newyorker--2020-06-22--Frank Kameny’s Orderly, Square Gay-Rights Activism

Was Franklin Edward Kameny crossed by his stars or favored by them ?
Growing up in Queens during the Great Depression , he knew at the age of six that he wanted to be an astronomer .
By the time he was in his early thirties , he had realized his dream : he received a Ph.D. from Harvard , taught at Georgetown , and , in 1957 , started working as an astronomer for the Army Map Service .
But he lasted there only a few months : the U.S. government found out that he was homosexual , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also his security clearance , which almost all astronomy jobs then required .
He spent the rest of his working life goading the government to treat homosexual employees fairly .
By the time federal policy changed , in 1975 , he had become a lion of the gay-civil-rights movement , which he seems to have relished , but his chance to study the stars had slipped away .
Kameny was square and unromantic—an unlikely combatant for erotic freedom .
“ Not gifted with obvious charisma ” is the polite formulation of one historian @ @ @ @ @ @ @ no interest in movies , sports , or popular music .
By the time he was fifteen , he had concluded that society was wrong to censure homosexuality , but , apart from a little experimentation in summer camp , he postponed acting on his desires for almost a decade and a half .
He obscured his orientation when he enlisted to fight in the Second World War and took no advantage of wartime sexual opportunities while serving .
Returning home , he enrolled at Harvard , and spent a year of his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Arizona , where , on the night of his twenty-ninth birthday , in 1954 , he at last made love with a man : he and a young man named Keith drove out into the desert north of the city .
There was a full moon , he later recalled , though almanacs show that it was actually waning gibbous .
The romance didn ’ t outlast Kameny ’ s stay in the Southwest , and though he claimed throughout his life that he hoped for a steady boyfriend , Keith seems @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Despite impressively thorough archival research , Eric Cervini , the author of a brisk , clear-eyed new biography , “ The Deviant ’ s War ” ( Farrar , Straus & Giroux ) , is unable to provide Keith ’ s last name .
Kameny , who died in 2011 , never disclosed it to interviewers .
After Keith , so many of Kameny ’ s loves were ephemeral that one suspects he came to prefer it that way .
Cervini sets the opening scene of his book in what was known @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” —a public rest room where men negotiated , transacted , and hid homosexual activity , through a set of conventions that Cervini characterizes as a “ silent choreography.
” Back when homosexual acts were illegal , tearooms were convenient and discreet—a hookup app avant la lettre—although subject to intervention by the police .
“ What the covert deviant needs is a sexual machine—collapsible to hip-pocket size , silent in operation , ” a sociologist wrote , in the late sixties , to describe the problem that rest-room sex almost solved .
Kameny @ @ @ @ @ @ @ train terminal , in August , 1956 , while in town for an astronomy conference .
No sooner did he let his genitals be touched , by a six-foot-two blue-eyed man in public relations , however , than both were arrested by police officers spying from behind a ventilation grille .
The next morning , Kameny , impatient to return to Washington , D.C. , where he was about to start a yearlong teaching assignment at Georgetown , pleaded guilty to lewd conduct and paid a fine of fifty dollars .
He expected @ @ @ @ @ @ @ months of good behavior .
Instead , it destroyed his career , and gave him his vocation .
Because the arrest occurred at a time before online mug shots , the blow to Kameny ’ s career took more than a year to land .
He finished up at Georgetown , and , at the Army Map Service , set about improving the precision of missile-guidance maps by comparing the moon ’ s occultations of stars from different points on Earth .
When the Soviets launched Sputnik , in October , 1957 , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of its own , Kameny thought of volunteering to become an astronaut .
Later that month , however , the Map Service ’ s personnel office wrote to him in Hawaii , where he was measuring occultations , and summoned him back to headquarters .
There he faced a pair of government investigators .
“ Information has come to the attention of the U.S. Civil Service Commission that you are a homosexual , ” one of the investigators said .
“ What comment , if any , do you care to make ?
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ his job application , but he had listed the charge as disorderly , rather than lewd , conduct .
( If he had omitted it altogether , he might never have had any trouble , Douglas M. Charles suggests in his 2015 history , “ Hoover ’ s War on Gays.
” ) Not yet a champion of gay rights , Kameny claimed that he had let the other man touch him only out of curiosity , and he dodged the question about his orientation .
“ As a matter of principle one @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” he said .
The Map Service fired him .
The official reason was that he had falsified a government form .
Kameny was one of thousands of homosexuals dismissed from federal employment during the Cold War , but Washington had not always been so inhospitable .
A park across the street from the White House—in Lafayette Square , where President Donald Trump recently held a photo op , after protesters there were driven out with tear gas—was a gay cruising ground from the late nineteenth century onward .
A new government @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gold-tinted hair dancing cheek to cheek at a party in a former stable behind two town houses on P Street .
When government jobs multiplied during the New Deal , gay men flocked to the city , in part because many of them felt more comfortable in workplaces with a substantial number of women , and women , thanks to the impartiality of civil-service exams , had long fared better in the federal workforce than in the private sector .
During the Second World War , Franklin Roosevelt resisted firing a key foreign-policy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ drunkenly propositioned several black train porters .
Roosevelt ’ s hand was eventually forced , however , by less tolerant politicians and officials , including the head of the F.B.I.
, J. Edgar Hoover .
As the Cold War took hold , conservatives argued that the government , confronted with the Soviet menace , couldn ’ t afford any internal weakness ; closeted homosexuals were vulnerable to blackmail , and uncloseted ones , if there were any , would bring the government into disrepute .
In 1947 , Harry S. Truman ordered the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ applicants .
The same year , the U.S. Park Police started its so-called Pervert Elimination Campaign , to stamp out cruising areas in Washington , and the State Department , under pressure from the Senate , began quietly forcing homosexuals to resign , on the ground that they were security risks .
By 1950 , the tally of “ shady ” individuals removed from the State Department , most of them homosexuals , had reached ninety-one , a deputy under-secretary disclosed to Congress that year , in an attempt to counter accusations by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and homosexuals .
The disclosure backfired , however ; voters were shocked that there had been so many homosexuals to get rid of in the first place .
McCarthy soon dropped the issue—as a middle-aged bachelor , he was wary of being too closely associated with it—but other politicians kept hammering away .
“ Who could be more dangerous to the United States of America than a pervert ?
” a Republican senator from Nebraska demanded ; he believed that Soviet intelligence agents were likely working their way through a list of homosexuals @ @ @ @ @ @ @ aides warned him that the issue was riling working-class voters , whom the Democrats , then as now , could ill afford to lose .
Secretary of State Dean Acheson tried to assure a roomful of newspaper editors that his employees were “ clean-living , ” pointing out that one had even been the captain of the Princeton football team , but the Senate initiated an investigation anyway—led by a North Carolina Democrat so unfamiliar with the topic of homosexuality that he privately asked one of the lawyers involved , “ Can you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ women possibly do ?
”

Was Franklin Edward Kameny crossed by his stars or favored by them? Growing up in Queens during the Great Depression, he knew at the age of six that he wanted to be an astronomer. By the time he was in his early thirties, he had realized his dream: he received a Ph.D. from Harvard, taught at Georgetown, and, in 1957, started working as an astronomer for the Army Map Service. But he lasted there only a few months: the U.S. government found out that he was homosexual, and he lost not only his job but also his security clearance, which almost all astronomy jobs then required. He spent the rest of his working life goading the government to treat homosexual employees fairly. By the time federal policy changed, in 1975, he had become a lion of the gay-civil-rights movement, which he seems to have relished, but his chance to study the stars had slipped away.
Kameny was square and unromantic—an unlikely combatant for erotic freedom. “Not gifted with obvious charisma” is the polite formulation of one historian of the gay movement. He had no interest in movies, sports, or popular music. By the time he was fifteen, he had concluded that society was wrong to censure homosexuality, but, apart from a little experimentation in summer camp, he postponed acting on his desires for almost a decade and a half. He obscured his orientation when he enlisted to fight in the Second World War and took no advantage of wartime sexual opportunities while serving. Returning home, he enrolled at Harvard, and spent a year of his graduate training at an observatory in Tucson, Arizona, where, on the night of his twenty-ninth birthday, in 1954, he at last made love with a man: he and a young man named Keith drove out into the desert north of the city. There was a full moon, he later recalled, though almanacs show that it was actually waning gibbous.
The romance didn’t outlast Kameny’s stay in the Southwest, and though he claimed throughout his life that he hoped for a steady boyfriend, Keith seems to have been the closest he came. Despite impressively thorough archival research, Eric Cervini, the author of a brisk, clear-eyed new biography, “The Deviant’s War” (Farrar, Straus & Giroux), is unable to provide Keith’s last name. Kameny, who died in 2011, never disclosed it to interviewers.
After Keith, so many of Kameny’s loves were ephemeral that one suspects he came to prefer it that way. Cervini sets the opening scene of his book in what was known in gay slang as a “tearoom”—a public rest room where men negotiated, transacted, and hid homosexual activity, through a set of conventions that Cervini characterizes as a “silent choreography.” Back when homosexual acts were illegal, tearooms were convenient and discreet—a hookup app avant la lettre—although subject to intervention by the police. “What the covert deviant needs is a sexual machine—collapsible to hip-pocket size, silent in operation,” a sociologist wrote, in the late sixties, to describe the problem that rest-room sex almost solved. Kameny resorted to one in a San Francisco train terminal, in August, 1956, while in town for an astronomy conference. No sooner did he let his genitals be touched, by a six-foot-two blue-eyed man in public relations, however, than both were arrested by police officers spying from behind a ventilation grille. The next morning, Kameny, impatient to return to Washington, D.C., where he was about to start a yearlong teaching assignment at Georgetown, pleaded guilty to lewd conduct and paid a fine of fifty dollars. He expected the charge to be dismissed after six months of good behavior. Instead, it destroyed his career, and gave him his vocation.
Because the arrest occurred at a time before online mug shots, the blow to Kameny’s career took more than a year to land. He finished up at Georgetown, and, at the Army Map Service, set about improving the precision of missile-guidance maps by comparing the moon’s occultations of stars from different points on Earth. When the Soviets launched Sputnik, in October, 1957, prompting America to jump-start a space program of its own, Kameny thought of volunteering to become an astronaut. Later that month, however, the Map Service’s personnel office wrote to him in Hawaii, where he was measuring occultations, and summoned him back to headquarters. There he faced a pair of government investigators. “Information has come to the attention of the U.S. Civil Service Commission that you are a homosexual,” one of the investigators said. “What comment, if any, do you care to make?”
Kameny had disclosed his arrest on his job application, but he had listed the charge as disorderly, rather than lewd, conduct. (If he had omitted it altogether, he might never have had any trouble, Douglas M. Charles suggests in his 2015 history, “Hoover’s War on Gays.”) Not yet a champion of gay rights, Kameny claimed that he had let the other man touch him only out of curiosity, and he dodged the question about his orientation. “As a matter of principle one’s private life is his own,” he said. The Map Service fired him. The official reason was that he had falsified a government form.
Kameny was one of thousands of homosexuals dismissed from federal employment during the Cold War, but Washington had not always been so inhospitable. A park across the street from the White House—in Lafayette Square, where President Donald Trump recently held a photo op, after protesters there were driven out with tear gas—was a gay cruising ground from the late nineteenth century onward. A new government hire of 1933 recalled seeing men with gold-tinted hair dancing cheek to cheek at a party in a former stable behind two town houses on P Street. When government jobs multiplied during the New Deal, gay men flocked to the city, in part because many of them felt more comfortable in workplaces with a substantial number of women, and women, thanks to the impartiality of civil-service exams, had long fared better in the federal workforce than in the private sector. During the Second World War, Franklin Roosevelt resisted firing a key foreign-policy strategist at the State Department who had drunkenly propositioned several black train porters.
Roosevelt’s hand was eventually forced, however, by less tolerant politicians and officials, including the head of the F.B.I., J. Edgar Hoover. As the Cold War took hold, conservatives argued that the government, confronted with the Soviet menace, couldn’t afford any internal weakness; closeted homosexuals were vulnerable to blackmail, and uncloseted ones, if there were any, would bring the government into disrepute. In 1947, Harry S. Truman ordered the vetting of all federal employees and job applicants. The same year, the U.S. Park Police started its so-called Pervert Elimination Campaign, to stamp out cruising areas in Washington, and the State Department, under pressure from the Senate, began quietly forcing homosexuals to resign, on the ground that they were security risks.
By 1950, the tally of “shady” individuals removed from the State Department, most of them homosexuals, had reached ninety-one, a deputy under-secretary disclosed to Congress that year, in an attempt to counter accusations by Senator Joseph McCarthy that State harbored Communists and homosexuals. The disclosure backfired, however; voters were shocked that there had been so many homosexuals to get rid of in the first place. McCarthy soon dropped the issue—as a middle-aged bachelor, he was wary of being too closely associated with it—but other politicians kept hammering away. “Who could be more dangerous to the United States of America than a pervert?” a Republican senator from Nebraska demanded; he believed that Soviet intelligence agents were likely working their way through a list of homosexuals compiled by Hitler. Truman’s aides warned him that the issue was riling working-class voters, whom the Democrats, then as now, could ill afford to lose. Secretary of State Dean Acheson tried to assure a roomful of newspaper editors that his employees were “clean-living,” pointing out that one had even been the captain of the Princeton football team, but the Senate initiated an investigation anyway—led by a North Carolina Democrat so unfamiliar with the topic of homosexuality that he privately asked one of the lawyers involved, “Can you please tell me, what can two women possibly do?”
In Senate testimony, the director of the C.I.A. asserted that homosexual men were volatile, easily dominated, cowardly, promiscuous, often effeminate, indiscreet, readily seduced, defiant, gullible, and cliquish. Although homosexuals were often blackmailed for money, no example could be found of one who had been blackmailed into revealing U.S. state secrets. The historian David K. Johnson, in his book “The Lavender Scare” (2004), writes categorically that no such thing ever happened. (In 1957, in Moscow, the K.G.B. did photograph a closeted American journalist in bed with a male Soviet agent, but the journalist confessed to officials at the American Embassy, who helped him slip away to Paris.) In lieu of evidence, the C.I.A. director started talking about Colonel Alfred Redl, an Austrian spymaster before the First World War who sold secrets to Russia. The director claimed that the Russians had been able to compromise Redl by sending him a handsome “newsboy” and then surprising the two in a hotel room. As Cervini writes, the story was “almost entirely, verifiably inaccurate.” Although Redl was indeed homosexual and a double agent, the Russians never procured him a newsboy, and he probably wouldn’t have been much frightened by blackmail; his lover accompanied him to society events in Vienna. His motive for treason was most likely simple greed.
The Senate committee’s final report contended that homosexuals were security risks with “no place in the United States government.” The F.B.I. began checking records of arrests for homosexual activity against federal employment records and forwarding names and fingerprints to the Civil Service Commission and various government agencies. The Bureau’s file on so-called “sex deviates” eventually ran to more than three hundred thousand pages. “Michelangelo might not be able to get a job under such terms,” Senator Hubert Humphrey, of Minnesota, joked in 1955.
Many homosexuals in federal employment resigned once detected; a number committed suicide. Kameny, however, waited to be fired and then wrote a twelve-page appeal. Not quite denying his homosexuality or quite owning up to it, he simply insisted that what he had been accused of doing in San Francisco had “no logical, rational connection with reliability, or with the ability to preserve proper security.” He solicited testimonials from friends and colleagues, as well as a letter certifying his heterosexuality from a prominent psychiatrist, whom he had duped by inventing a girlfriend. Cervini has discovered a draft of a letter Kameny wrote to the psychiatrist—on the same piece of paper as a draft of a birthday note to Keith.
The Army Map Service rejected Kameny’s appeal, and the Civil Service Commission, for good measure, banned him from any federal employment for three years. Kameny appealed the commission’s ban, was rejected, appealed the rejection, and was rejected again. His lie and his perseverance suggest a rule-follower in agony at finding himself on the wrong side of the rules for the first time. As a strategy for recovering a job, showing up unannounced at the office to ask why one was fired, as Kameny did more than once, is unlikely to succeed, but demands for justice have often looked initially like pointless self-sabotage; “She does not know how to bend before her troubles,” the Theban elders tsk-tsked about Antigone. Kameny may have been in the right, but in 1957 he was far from able to articulate that right; he was still in the closet.
In the spring of 1958, he pursued jobs in academia and private industry, but he was, as he wrote a few years later, “in the peculiarly ironic position of being in excessively great demand (as an astronomer at the commencement of the Space Age) and yet totally unable to get a job because of security problems.” In September, he was arrested near a men’s room in Lafayette Square; curiosity was no longer a convincing explanation, if it ever had been. A few days later, he wrote to the chair of the Civil Service Commission, calling him “guilty of gross immorality and grossly unethical conduct” and arguing that the commission, by pronouncing on a citizen’s morals, had violated the freedom of religion guaranteed by the First Amendment. Toward the end of the year, Kameny contacted the chair again to say that his unemployment compensation was about to run out, and, rather than take a job outside his field, he was going on a hunger strike. “Enjoy your Christmas dinner,” he wrote.
“During this troubling time, I think we should extend to our customers our most heartfelt deals, deals, deals.” Cartoon by Emily Bernstein Copy link to cartoon Copy link to cartoon Shop Shop
Kameny didn’t, in fact, starve himself, but in early 1959 his food budget was twenty cents a day, and he ate frankfurters and mashed potatoes, on the days he ate at all. When his landlord tried to evict him, a judge referred him to the Salvation Army, which gave him eleven dollars’ worth of groceries.
In June, 1959, with the help of a sympathetic lawyer, Kameny sued the Secretary of the Army. He worried that the case, which he allowed his name to be attached to openly, would scupper his chances of a job, but in September he was hired by a manufacturer of devices that tested paints and coatings (one of his specialties as an astronomer had been applying the reflective surface on a telescope’s focussing mirror). His lawsuit was dismissed, but Kameny did not give up, and, as he prepared an appeal, he approached the New York chapter of the Mattachine Society, an organization concerned with gay rights.
The Mattachine Society had been founded in California, around 1950, and was originally quite radical. Its founders theorized that homosexuals—they preferred the term “homophiles,” as sounding less medical—constituted a distinct social minority, who needed to embrace their group identity. The society retreated from activism during the Red Scare, and, by the time Kameny got in touch, its leaders were encouraging assimilation into the mainstream. “To keep quiet is not necessarily to deny the truth,” one of them had written.


The Mail

Nicholas Lemann ’ s thesis , which ends his review of Walter Johnson ’ s book “ The Broken Heart of America , ” is a warning : we should expect only “ partial victories ” when it comes to racial justice in America , and we ought to beware the likes of Johnson , who insists on “ deflating and deriding ” past progress ( Books , May 25th ) .
To Lemann , Johnson errs insofar as he “ discourages us from drawing much hope ” from the election of an African-American President , the passage of civil-rights @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Thirteenth Amendment .
But Johnson ’ s contribution—like much of the recent scholarship on racial capitalism—reveals the poison at the heart of these and other celebrated steps forward .
The Thirteenth Amendment , for example , contains , in its liberating language , the legal justification for convict labor and chain gangs , and amounts to an impetus for mass incarceration .
White supremacy is indeed an adaptable and slippery monster , but the real hazards to forward motion are naïveté , white privilege , and a deficit of imagination and courage .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ I read Adam Gopnik ’ s piece on remote therapy sessions with great interest ( “ The Empty Couch , ” June 1st ) .
When a chronic illness forced me , as a younger therapist , to work remotely , I dreaded exposing my vulnerabilities to my patients .
I had been trained to make my office a neutral setting , and to erase my personal life from it .
But bringing humanity to the work enriches it in ways we can ’ t predict .
As Gopnik ’ s article implies @ @ @ @ @ @ @ relationship to grow when the power dynamic softens , as it has during the pandemic .
The strict dichotomy between those who heal and those who are healed is an outdated paradigm .
Therapists fall ill , lose relationships , and struggle with their own mortality .
These days , with the ongoing threat of the coronavirus and the racial and political crises in our country , we can ’ t deny the collective experience of vulnerability .
What we therapists can do , using our training in cultivating resilience over time , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ complexity .
Those in the helping professions should not try to keep their humanity off their computer screens ; patients need to see it now more than ever .
I thoroughly enjoyed Rivka Galchen ’ s portrait of P. G. Wodehouse , one of my favorite authors ( Books , June 1st ) .
Galchen describes Wodehouse ’ s astonishing naïveté as a prisoner in German internment camps .
Wodehouse was savvy , though , when it came to his livelihood as a writer .
In 1938 and 1941 , the author negotiated @ @ @ @ @ @ @ publishers .
The Bureau of Internal Revenue decided that Wodehouse ’ s advance earnings amounted to royalties , and were therefore subject to U.S. taxes .
Wodehouse litigated the issue all the way to the Supreme Court , losing , 5–3 , in 1949 .
But Wodehouse eventually won , in a way : in 1954 , Congress overturned the decision , allowing foreign authors to sell their work without being taxed for earnings other than sales .
At least as far as his money was concerned , Wodehouse was far from oblivious @ @ @ @ @ @ @ than Wooster .
Letters should be sent with the writer ’ s name , address , and daytime phone number via e-mail to themail @ newyorker.com .
Letters may be edited for length and clarity , and may be published in any medium .
We regret that owing to the volume of correspondence we can not reply to every letter .

The True Impediments to Racial Justice
Nicholas Lemann’s thesis, which ends his review of Walter Johnson’s book “The Broken Heart of America,” is a warning: we should expect only “partial victories” when it comes to racial justice in America, and we ought to beware the likes of Johnson, who insists on “deflating and deriding” past progress (Books, May 25th). To Lemann, Johnson errs insofar as he “discourages us from drawing much hope” from the election of an African-American President, the passage of civil-rights legislation, or the ratification of the Thirteenth Amendment. But Johnson’s contribution—like much of the recent scholarship on racial capitalism—reveals the poison at the heart of these and other celebrated steps forward. The Thirteenth Amendment, for example, contains, in its liberating language, the legal justification for convict labor and chain gangs, and amounts to an impetus for mass incarceration. White supremacy is indeed an adaptable and slippery monster, but the real hazards to forward motion are naïveté, white privilege, and a deficit of imagination and courage.
Bill Ayers
Chicago, Ill.
Zoom Therapy
As a marriage and family psychotherapist, I read Adam Gopnik’s piece on remote therapy sessions with great interest (“The Empty Couch,” June 1st). When a chronic illness forced me, as a younger therapist, to work remotely, I dreaded exposing my vulnerabilities to my patients. I had been trained to make my office a neutral setting, and to erase my personal life from it. But bringing humanity to the work enriches it in ways we can’t predict. As Gopnik’s article implies, there is potential for the therapeutic relationship to grow when the power dynamic softens, as it has during the pandemic. The strict dichotomy between those who heal and those who are healed is an outdated paradigm. Therapists fall ill, lose relationships, and struggle with their own mortality. These days, with the ongoing threat of the coronavirus and the racial and political crises in our country, we can’t deny the collective experience of vulnerability. What we therapists can do, using our training in cultivating resilience over time, is model how to navigate uncertainty and complexity. Those in the helping professions should not try to keep their humanity off their computer screens; patients need to see it now more than ever.
Eva Tuschman
Menlo Park, Calif.
A Case for Jeeves
I thoroughly enjoyed Rivka Galchen’s portrait of P. G. Wodehouse, one of my favorite authors (Books, June 1st). Galchen describes Wodehouse’s astonishing naïveté as a prisoner in German internment camps. Wodehouse was savvy, though, when it came to his livelihood as a writer. In 1938 and 1941, the author negotiated significant up-front, lump-sum payments from American publishers. The Bureau of Internal Revenue decided that Wodehouse’s advance earnings amounted to royalties, and were therefore subject to U.S. taxes. Wodehouse litigated the issue all the way to the Supreme Court, losing, 5–3, in 1949. But Wodehouse eventually won, in a way: in 1954, Congress overturned the decision, allowing foreign authors to sell their work without being taxed for earnings other than sales. At least as far as his money was concerned, Wodehouse was far from oblivious; indeed, he was more Jeeves than Wooster.
Reuven Avi-Yonah
Lincoln, Mass.
•
Letters should be sent with the writer’s name, address, and daytime phone number via e-mail to themail@newyorker.com. Letters may be edited for length and clarity, and may be published in any medium. We regret that owing to the volume of correspondence we cannot reply to every letter.


newyorker--2020-06-22--Corina Newsome and the Black Birders Movement

Corina Newsome , a twenty-seven-year-old graduate student in ornithology , studies threats to seaside sparrows that nest on the shore of southern Georgia .
She has been avian-obsessed for six years , ever since she saw her first blue jay , during a college field course .
She watches migrating flocks on weather radar like a sports fan watches a soccer match .
Like many birders , she keeps lists on eBird , an online server , of the species she has seen ( more than three hundred ) , and her own lists of those she hopes to see @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , she has released a remix , with new lyrics , of the Offset and Cardi B song “ Clout , ” called “ Anything for the Count.
” “ Everybody wan na see Tits / Everybody wan na see Chicks , ” she raps .
“ If I was you , I ’ d start my list.
” Growing up in Philadelphia , Newsome had no idea that she could be a wildlife scientist until a friend of a friend , who was a carnivore keeper at the local zoo , suggested @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ It ’ s the only reason I ’ m here now and not working at Home Depot , ” Newsome said the other day .
She was in a humid salt marsh , in Brunswick , combing through green spartina grass , looking for sparrow nests .
A cacophony of laughing gulls flew by .
“ That ’ s why representation is so important .
I am now a crazy bird human.
” In early June , Newsome helped organize the inaugural # BlackBirdersWeek , as a response to what happened on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Cooper .
He was birding in Central Park when he encountered a white woman named Amy Cooper ( no relation ) , and politely asked her to leash her dog , per Park regulation .
Instead , she called the police to report that “ an African-American man ” was threatening her life .
( Later that day , George Floyd was killed by a Minneapolis cop . )
Newsome and her co-organizers—all members of an online group chat called Black AF in STEM—planned an event series to promote black naturalists and anti-racism @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is tall , with large eyes and long eyelashes , high-stepped across scattered oyster shells in a tidal creek .
The week had been a huge success .
The National Audubon Society had live-streamed two panels , featuring Newsome , Cooper , and other distinguished birders , to its 1.5 million followers .
The events were the first in the organization ’ s long history to feature only black birders , promoting justice and inclusivity .
“ It can ’ t , of course , be compared to the risks that people take @ @ @ @ @ @ @ protesting police brutality , ” Newsome said .
“ But both efforts are attempts to eradicate a culture steeped in white supremacy , and the valuing of white experience over all else.
” She wore a sun hat and quick-dry pants , which were sealed to her boots , to prevent snails from falling in .
She carried a G.P.S .
tracker and a clipboard with waterproof paper .
“ I ’ m always on guard .
I try to prominently display my gear , ” she said .
“ Even if I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ if I see white folks approaching me , I immediately look through my binoculars .
I need them to know what I ’ m doing.
” In February , a black man named Ahmaud Arbery was pursued by a group of white men and then killed , while out jogging , near Newsome ’ s field site .
“ The first time I came back out here , ” she said , after Arbery ’ s death , “ I drove around that neighborhood where he was jogging .
On my way out—and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ windows down , and screamed at the top of my lungs .
I was bursting on the inside and there was nothing I could do .
I was sobbing .
I felt like I was gon na vomit.
” A sparrow flashed up from the grass .
“ Pish pish pish pish , ” Newsome called , trying to get its attention .
The bird started chipping .
“ Ooh !
O.K.
, that means there ’ s a nest nearby , ” she said .
“ Birding in the marsh is as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ she added , quietly .
“ There ’ s no way I ’ m going in a remote area , or the woods , without a white person as cover.
” The bird continued chipping .
“ I ’ m stuck between feeling like I need to drop everything academically and dedicate my time to more directly advocating for black lives—I should be on the front lines of protests right now—and feeling like I am on the front lines , in a different way , ” she said .
She sits on the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Evangelicals for Climate Action .
( “ To say that everything is in God ’ s hands , and not take action , is just a cop-out , ” she said . )
Many of the seaside sparrow nests she finds fail , the fledglings killed by predators or drowned .
Sea-level rise is expected to increase the risk of nests flooding .
“ I ’ m not comparing people to wildlife , ” she said .
“ But , when we deplete and exploit the natural world , it hurts the most @ @ @ @ @ @ @ She tacked right in pursuit of the sparrow .
“ It ’ s like Marco Polo , ” she said , and started talking about the wonders of migration .
“ Hold on .
I found it !
” Under her nose was a cup of dried grass , about four inches across , tucked between spartina stalks .
Inside were three dime-size , brown-speckled eggs .
“ I literally don ’ t know how I found that .
It ’ s completely camouflaged .
You can ’ t see it.
” But @ @ @ @ @ @ @ so happy to be here , ” she said , as if it were a confession .
♦ • The death of George Floyd , in context .
• The civil-rights lawyer Bryan Stevenson examines the frustration and despair behind the protests .
• Who , David Remnick asks , is the true agitator behind the racial unrest ?
• A sociologist examines the so-called pillars of whiteness that prevent white Americans from confronting racism .
• The Black Lives Matter co-founder Opal Tometi on what it would mean to defund police departments @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The quest to transform the United States can not be limited to challenging its brutal police .

Corina Newsome Illustration by João Fazenda
Corina Newsome, a twenty-seven-year-old graduate student in ornithology, studies threats to seaside sparrows that nest on the shore of southern Georgia. She has been avian-obsessed for six years, ever since she saw her first blue jay, during a college field course. She watches migrating flocks on weather radar like a sports fan watches a soccer match. Like many birders, she keeps lists on eBird, an online server, of the species she has seen (more than three hundred), and her own lists of those she hopes to see, but, unlike any other birder, she has released a remix, with new lyrics, of the Offset and Cardi B song “Clout,” called “Anything for the Count.” “Everybody wanna see Tits / Everybody wanna see Chicks,” she raps. “If I was you, I’d start my list.”
Growing up in Philadelphia, Newsome had no idea that she could be a wildlife scientist until a friend of a friend, who was a carnivore keeper at the local zoo, suggested that she apply for an internship. “It’s the only reason I’m here now and not working at Home Depot,” Newsome said the other day. She was in a humid salt marsh, in Brunswick, combing through green spartina grass, looking for sparrow nests. A cacophony of laughing gulls flew by. “That’s why representation is so important. I am now a crazy bird human.”
In early June, Newsome helped organize the inaugural #BlackBirdersWeek, as a response to what happened on Memorial Day to a man named Christian Cooper. He was birding in Central Park when he encountered a white woman named Amy Cooper (no relation), and politely asked her to leash her dog, per Park regulation. Instead, she called the police to report that “an African-American man” was threatening her life. (Later that day, George Floyd was killed by a Minneapolis cop.) Newsome and her co-organizers—all members of an online group chat called Black AF in STEM—planned an event series to promote black naturalists and anti-racism in the field.
Newsome, who is tall, with large eyes and long eyelashes, high-stepped across scattered oyster shells in a tidal creek. The week had been a huge success. The National Audubon Society had live-streamed two panels, featuring Newsome, Cooper, and other distinguished birders, to its 1.5 million followers. The events were the first in the organization’s long history to feature only black birders, promoting justice and inclusivity. “It can’t, of course, be compared to the risks that people take when they are out in the streets protesting police brutality,” Newsome said. “But both efforts are attempts to eradicate a culture steeped in white supremacy, and the valuing of white experience over all else.”
She wore a sun hat and quick-dry pants, which were sealed to her boots, to prevent snails from falling in. She carried a G.P.S. tracker and a clipboard with waterproof paper. “I’m always on guard. I try to prominently display my gear,” she said. “Even if I don’t see a bird, if I see white folks approaching me, I immediately look through my binoculars. I need them to know what I’m doing.” In February, a black man named Ahmaud Arbery was pursued by a group of white men and then killed, while out jogging, near Newsome’s field site. “The first time I came back out here,” she said, after Arbery’s death, “I drove around that neighborhood where he was jogging. On my way out—and this sounds crazy—I parked, rolled my windows down, and screamed at the top of my lungs. I was bursting on the inside and there was nothing I could do. I was sobbing. I felt like I was gonna vomit.”
A sparrow flashed up from the grass. “Pish pish pish pish,” Newsome called, trying to get its attention. The bird started chipping. “Ooh! O.K., that means there’s a nest nearby,” she said. “Birding in the marsh is as remote as I will go,” she added, quietly. “There’s no way I’m going in a remote area, or the woods, without a white person as cover.” The bird continued chipping. “I’m stuck between feeling like I need to drop everything academically and dedicate my time to more directly advocating for black lives—I should be on the front lines of protests right now—and feeling like I am on the front lines, in a different way,” she said. She sits on the steering committee of a group called Young Evangelicals for Climate Action. (“To say that everything is in God’s hands, and not take action, is just a cop-out,” she said.) Many of the seaside sparrow nests she finds fail, the fledglings killed by predators or drowned. Sea-level rise is expected to increase the risk of nests flooding. “I’m not comparing people to wildlife,” she said. “But, when we deplete and exploit the natural world, it hurts the most vulnerable first, and most intensely.”
She tacked right in pursuit of the sparrow. “It’s like Marco Polo,” she said, and started talking about the wonders of migration. “Hold on. I found it!” Under her nose was a cup of dried grass, about four inches across, tucked between spartina stalks. Inside were three dime-size, brown-speckled eggs. “I literally don’t know how I found that. It’s completely camouflaged. You can’t see it.” But she had. “I’m so happy to be here,” she said, as if it were a confession. ♦
Race, Policing, and Black Lives Matter Protests


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Each week, we provide a cartoon in need of a caption. You, the reader, submit your caption here, we choose three finalists, and you vote for your favorite. Anyone age thirteen or older can enter or vote. To read the complete rules, click here.
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newyorker--2020-06-23--For now, Donald Trump and William Barr Are Losing Their Way

On Friday night , William Barr seemed to embrace obstruction of justice as a way of life in his ongoing defense of Donald Trump .
It didn ’ t go well .
In an apparent attempt to protect President Trump ’ s personal lawyer Rudy Giuliani from criminal prosecution , Barr issued a false statement that the U.S. Attorney in Manhattan , Geoffrey Berman , had agreed to step down .
“ With tenacity and savvy , Geoff has done an excellent job leading one of our nation ’ s most significant U.S. Attorney ’ s Offices , ” Barr @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at 9:15 p.m. “ I appreciate his service to the Department of Justice and our nation , and I wish him well in the future.
” Barr added that Jay Clayton , the head of the Securities and Exchange Commission , and a golf buddy of Trump ’ s , would replace Berman in the powerful post .
In a startling act of defiance , Berman called out Barr ’ s lie : at 11:14 p.m. , he issued his own statement , declaring , “ I have not resigned , and have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” ( A Justice Department official said that phrases such as “ stepping down ” are used as a courtesy when officials are removed from their posts . )
The federal prosecutor then made a remarkable—and historic—plea for the other two branches of government to confront and restrain an out-of-control President .
And , in this case , his out-of-control Attorney General , too .
“ I was appointed by the Judges of the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York , ” Berman wrote .
“ I will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is confirmed by the Senate .
Until then , our investigations will move forward without delay or interruption.
” The duelling announcements captured the confusing combination of brazen corruption and sheer incompetence that has become a hallmark of the Trump Administration .
Barr , surely at Trump ’ s behest , was attempting to remove a federal prosecutor who has carried out a series of politically embarrassing investigations of Trump allies .
The attempted Friday-night firing confirmed allegations in a new book by the former National Security Adviser John Bolton—which Trump and Barr @ @ @ @ @ @ @ repeatedly interfered in criminal investigations into friends , political allies , and , most of all , himself .
A Justice Department official who asked not to be named denied Bolton ’ s allegations and said that the extent of Southern District investigations that involve Trump associates is being exaggerated .
The official added that Clayton is well liked in the Administration and that Barr ’ s actions are being cast in an unfairly conspiratorial way .
“ He was planning on leaving the Administration , and he expressed interest in the position @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to Clayton .
“ The Attorney General thought he would be a good fit to lead the office.
” Berman ’ s mention of having been appointed by federal judges was a reference to the Trump White House ’ s handling of his appointment in the first place .
Normally , a newly elected President nominates federal prosecutors , to serve in posts across the United States , who are then confirmed by the Senate .
Trump interviewed and nominated Berman , who is a Republican , in 2017 , but the Administration @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Senate , fearing that Democrats would block it .
After a hundred and twenty days , U.S. federal judges nominated him .
But the Administration , for its purposes , appears not to have properly vetted Berman—who , because his jurisdiction includes Manhattan , would inevitably oversee cases involving Trump associates .
From the start , Berman signalled his refusal to protect Trump politically ; in other words , he would take proper action as a federal prosecutor .
Berman had donated to Trump ’ s 2016 campaign , and he recused himself @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Trump ’ s former personal lawyer Michael D. Cohen .
In a case that consumed the headlines for months and infuriated Trump , federal prosecutors in Berman ’ s office brokered a plea deal with Cohen , in which he confessed to having violated campaign-finance laws by facilitating hush-money payments to the adult-film actress Stormy Daniels and the model Karen McDougal .
Cohen stated under oath that Trump ordered him to make the payments .
Trump enjoys immunity from prosecution for as long as he is President , but he was reportedly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ politically embarrassing case go away .
In 2019 , prosecutors working in Berman ’ s office indicted two Giuliani associates , Lev Parnas and Igor Fruman , alleging that they had made illegal campaign contributions to a U.S. congressman and others .
( Parnas and Fruman ’ s trial is scheduled for next year ; both have pleaded not guilty . )
Berman ’ s office is now reportedly investigating Giuliani for potential violations of foreign-lobbying disclosure requirements .
( Giuliani has denied any wrongdoing and has not been charged . )
More @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have demanded Barr ’ s resignation , citing his repeated interventions in Trump-related probes , in ways that appeared to aid the President politically .
The Attorney General ’ s likely rationale is his decades-long belief in an extreme interpretation of Presidential power , which gives Trump control of all executive-branch agencies , without restriction .
In Barr ’ s view , this means that Trump would be within his rights to oversee an investigation into his own misconduct .
Legal experts have called the interpretation bizarre and dangerous .
In a sign @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s political standing is shifting , one of Trump ’ s most fawning backers in the Senate , Lindsey Graham , indicated on Saturday that he would not support the nomination of Clayton , who has no experience as a prosecutor .
Graham is locked in a tight reëlection race with Jaime Harrison , the Democratic challenger , in South Carolina .
After other Senate Republicans declined to support Clayton , Barr agreed to appoint Berman ’ s deputy , Audrey Strauss , as an interim U.S. Attorney , following standard practice .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ that Strauss , like Berman , would defy pressure to quash politically embarrassing investigations .
“ None of the office ’ s work will be compromised , ” Samidh Guha , a former assistant U.S. attorney in the office , told the Washington Post .
Support for Barr among career Justice Department officials appears to be eroding , the Times reported .
Since Barr took office , nineteen months ago , he has carried out some of the Administration ’ s most controversial legal actions , from reducing the sentence requested for Roger @ @ @ @ @ @ @ against Michael Flynn , to the so-far-failed effort to block the publication of Bolton ’ s book .
Over the past several weeks , three senior department officials have announced their departures : Brian Benczkowski , the head of the criminal division ; Noel Francisco , the solicitor general ; and Jody Hunt , a career official who runs the civil division .
The Justice Department official whom I spoke with denied any morale problems .
The official added that Barr is adhering to legal views that he has held for decades ; @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his guilty pleas , was thin and the sentence against Stone excessive .
Barr is “ just doing what is right—he ’ s going back and fixing things that shouldn ’ t have happened , ” the official said .
“ And that ’ s what he ’ s done consistently.
” Meanwhile , Trump ’ s handling of the pandemic , the concurrent recession , and the nationwide protests over the police killing of George Floyd have , for now , driven his poll numbers down .
Bolton , the former Defense @ @ @ @ @ @ @ senior Administration officials have publicly declared Trump a danger to American democracy .
Barr , for his part , continues to double-down on enabling and defending Trump .
Last Monday , Barr dismissed Bolton ’ s claim that the President intervenes in criminal cases to aid autocrats and allies .
Five days later , Barr tried to remove Berman .
On Sunday , Barr again defended Trump in a Fox News interview , warned of mob rule , and said that mail-in voting “ opens the floodgates to fraud.
” On Monday morning @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s interview and then exaggerated his claim , falsely stating that foreign governments are printing millions of fake mail-in ballots , and that the November vote is already “ FIXED.
” The Justice Department official told me that the Attorney General is defending the Presidency , not merely this particular President , and that Barr is taking the actions because he feels they are right , not because of pressure from Trump .
The official added that Barr has no regrets and intends to serve through the November election , noting that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
He would not say something that he doesn ’ t believe.
” Who finds Bill Barr convincing ?
Increasingly , not the judges , not the prosecutors , and not , if one believes the polls , the American public .

On Friday night, William Barr seemed to embrace obstruction of justice as a way of life in his ongoing defense of Donald Trump. It didn’t go well. In an apparent attempt to protect President Trump’s personal lawyer Rudy Giuliani from criminal prosecution, Barr issued a false statement that the U.S. Attorney in Manhattan, Geoffrey Berman, had agreed to step down. “With tenacity and savvy, Geoff has done an excellent job leading one of our nation’s most significant U.S. Attorney’s Offices,” Barr said, in a press release issued at 9:15 p.m. “I appreciate his service to the Department of Justice and our nation, and I wish him well in the future.” Barr added that Jay Clayton, the head of the Securities and Exchange Commission, and a golf buddy of Trump’s, would replace Berman in the powerful post.
In a startling act of defiance, Berman called out Barr’s lie: at 11:14 p.m., he issued his own statement, declaring, “I have not resigned, and have no intention of resigning, my position.” (A Justice Department official said that phrases such as “stepping down” are used as a courtesy when officials are removed from their posts.) The federal prosecutor then made a remarkable—and historic—plea for the other two branches of government to confront and restrain an out-of-control President. And, in this case, his out-of-control Attorney General, too. “I was appointed by the Judges of the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York,” Berman wrote. “I will step down when a presidentially appointed nominee is confirmed by the Senate. Until then, our investigations will move forward without delay or interruption.”
The duelling announcements captured the confusing combination of brazen corruption and sheer incompetence that has become a hallmark of the Trump Administration. Barr, surely at Trump’s behest, was attempting to remove a federal prosecutor who has carried out a series of politically embarrassing investigations of Trump allies. The attempted Friday-night firing confirmed allegations in a new book by the former national-security adviser John Bolton—which Trump and Barr unsuccessfully tried to suppress—that the President has repeatedly interfered in criminal investigations into friends, political allies, and, most of all, himself.
A Justice Department official who asked not to be named denied Bolton’s allegations and said that the extent of Southern District investigations that involve Trump associates is being exaggerated. The official added that Clayton is well liked in the Administration and that Barr’s actions are being cast in an unfairly conspiratorial way. “He was planning on leaving the Administration, and he expressed interest in the position,” the official said, referring to Clayton. “The Attorney General thought he would be a good fit to lead the office.”
Berman’s mention of having been appointed by federal judges was a reference to the Trump White House’s handling of his appointment in the first place. Normally, a newly elected President nominates federal prosecutors to serve in posts across the United States, and they are then confirmed by the Senate. Trump interviewed and nominated Berman, who is a Republican, in 2017, but the Administration never formally submitted his nomination to the Senate, fearing that Democrats would block it. After a hundred and twenty days, U.S. federal judges nominated him. But the Administration, for its purposes, appears not to have properly vetted Berman—who, because his jurisdiction includes Manhattan, would inevitably oversee cases involving Trump associates. From the start, Berman signalled his refusal to protect Trump politically; in other words, he would take proper action as a federal prosecutor.
Berman had donated to Trump’s 2016 campaign, and he recused himself from the Southern District’s investigation of Trump’s former personal lawyer Michael D. Cohen. In a case that consumed the headlines for months and infuriated Trump, federal prosecutors in Berman’s office brokered a plea deal with Cohen, in which he confessed to having violated campaign-finance laws by facilitating hush-money payments to the adult-film actress Stormy Daniels and the model Karen McDougal. Cohen stated under oath that Trump ordered him to make the payments. Trump enjoys immunity from prosecution for as long as he is President, but he was reportedly irate with Berman for not making the politically embarrassing case go away. In 2019, prosecutors working in Berman’s office indicted two Giuliani associates, Lev Parnas and Igor Fruman, alleging that they had made illegal campaign contributions to a U.S. congressman and others. (Parnas and Fruman’s trial is scheduled for next year; both have pleaded not guilty.) Berman’s office is now reportedly investigating Giuliani for potential violations of foreign-lobbying disclosure requirements. (Giuliani has denied any wrongdoing and has not been charged.)
More than a thousand former Justice Department officials have demanded Barr’s resignation, citing his repeated interventions in Trump-related probes, in ways that appeared to aid the President politically. The Attorney General’s likely rationale is his decades-long belief in an extreme interpretation of Presidential power, which gives Trump control of all executive-branch agencies, without restriction. In Barr’s view, this means that Trump would be within his rights to oversee an investigation into his own misconduct. Legal experts have called the interpretation bizarre and dangerous.
In a sign of how quickly Trump and Barr’s political standing is shifting, one of Trump’s most fawning backers in the Senate, Lindsey Graham, indicated on Saturday that he would not support the nomination of Clayton, who has no experience as a prosecutor. Graham is locked in a tight reëlection race with Jaime Harrison, the Democratic challenger, in South Carolina. After other Senate Republicans declined to support Clayton, Barr agreed to appoint Berman’s deputy, Audrey Strauss, as an interim U.S. Attorney, following standard practice. Former federal prosecutors in New York said that Strauss, like Berman, would defy pressure to quash politically embarrassing investigations. “None of the office’s work will be compromised,” Samidh Guha, a former assistant U.S. attorney in the office, told the Washington Post.
Support for Barr among career Justice Department officials appears to be eroding, the Times reported. Since Barr took office, nineteen months ago, he has carried out some of the Administration’s most controversial legal actions, from reducing the sentence requested for Roger Stone to attempting to withdraw charges against Michael Flynn to the so-far-failed effort to block the publication of Bolton’s book. In the past several weeks, three senior department officials have announced their departures: Brian Benczkowski, the head of the criminal division; Noel Francisco, the solicitor general; and Jody Hunt, a career official who runs the civil division.
The Justice Department official whom I spoke with denied any morale problems. The official added that Barr is adhering to legal views that he has held for decades; that the evidence against Flynn, despite his guilty pleas, was thin and the sentence against Stone excessive. Barr is “just doing what is right—he’s going back and fixing things that shouldn’t have happened,” the official said. “And that’s what he’s done consistently.”
Meanwhile, Trump’s handling of the pandemic, the concurrent recession, and the nationwide protests over the police killing of George Floyd have, for now, driven his poll numbers down. Bolton, the former Defense Secretary James Mattis, and other former senior Administration officials have publicly declared Trump a danger to American democracy. Barr, for his part, continues to double down on enabling and defending Trump. Last Monday, Barr dismissed Bolton’s claim that the President intervenes in criminal cases to aid autocrats and allies. Five days later, Barr tried to remove Berman. On Sunday, Barr again defended Trump, in a Fox News interview, warned of mob rule, and said that mail-in voting “opens the floodgates to fraud.” On Monday morning, Trump tweeted a link to Barr’s interview and then exaggerated his claim, falsely stating that foreign governments are printing millions of fake mail-in ballots, and that the November vote is already “FIXED.”
The Justice Department official told me that the Attorney General is defending the Presidency, not merely this particular President, and that Barr is taking the actions because he feels they are right, not because of pressure from Trump. The official added that Barr has no regrets and intends to serve through the November election, noting that “Bill Barr is his own man. He would not say something that he doesn’t believe.” Who finds Bill Barr convincing? Increasingly, not the judges, not the prosecutors, and not, if one believes the polls, the American public.


newyorker--2020-06-22--Masha Gessen on Recognizing an Autocrat

Masha Gessen on Recognizing an Autocrat

In the past month , President Trump has cleared peaceful demonstrations with tear gas , told governors to “ dominate @ @ @ @ @ to invoke the Insurrection Act .
The staff writer Masha Gessen argues that transgressions like @ @ @ @ @ President ’ s mind-set is fundamentally not democratic but autocratic .
“ Polarization and violence @ @ @ @ @ things that benefit an autocrat , ” they warn David Remnick .
Gessen ’ s @ @ @ @ @ Autocracy , ” draws on their experience as a targeted journalist in Russia , and @ @ @ @ @ Trump and Vladimir Putin .

Download a transcript.
Photograph by Leah Millis / Reuters
In the past month, President Trump has cleared peaceful demonstrations with tear gas, told governors to “dominate” protesters, and threatened to invoke the Insurrection Act. The staff writer Masha Gessen argues that transgressions like these are signs that the President’s mind-set is fundamentally not democratic but autocratic. “Polarization and violence and high anxiety are all things that benefit an autocrat,” they warn David Remnick. Gessen’s new book, “Surviving Autocracy,” draws on their experience as a targeted journalist in Russia, and Gessen sees troubling similarities between Trump and Vladimir Putin.


newyorker--2020-06-22--How the Head of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary Came Around to Trump

In the fall of 2016 , Albert Mohler , the head of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and one of the most prominent evangelical thinkers in the United States , wrote an op-ed for the Washington Post in which he described Donald Trump as a “ crisis of conscience ” for religious conservatives , and an “ excruciating ” one , at that .
Mohler , who has long been vocal about his opposition to same-sex marriage , abortion rights , divorce , and other tenets of secular liberalism , described Hillary Clinton as “ a threat to values and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ flourishing , ” but argued that his fellow evangelical leaders were wrong “ to serve as apologists for Donald Trump.
” Mohler called Trump a “ sexual predator ” and asked , “ How could ‘ family values voters ’ support a man who had , among other things , stated openly that no man ’ s wife was safe with him in the room ?
A casino titan who posed for the cover of Playboy magazine ?
A man who boasted that he did not repent of his ( well-documented ) sins @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said that he did not vote for Trump or Clinton .
In 2016 , Mohler said that the “ marriage of convenience ” between evangelicals and the Republican Party was over .
In April , 2020 , however , he announced that he planned to vote for Trump this fall .
In a video released by the seminary , he said that he still has concerns about Trump ’ s character , but that the two parties have diverged to the point that he is choosing to support the Republican candidate .
Mohler @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Gathering Storm : Secularism , Culture , and the Church , ” borrows the title of Winston Churchill ’ s account of the lead-up to the Second World War to describe the urgent threat of “ the dechristianization of society.
” Mohler and I recently spoke by phone .
During our conversation , which has been edited for length and clarity , we discussed his views of modernity , why he has decided to vote for Trump , and whether Trump is speeding up the secularization of American society .
I once heard @ @ @ @ @ @ @ live in a Victorian house , but not with Victorian medicine .
Do you think the fact that we don ’ t have Victorian medicine has to do with changes brought about in part by these waves of secularization that you don ’ t like ?
I appreciate the question .
I ’ m trying to be intellectually honest .
I think one temptation for conservatives is always to try to point to some golden era to which we want to return .
That ’ s a misreading of history .
There are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ may wish to retain , and certain truths that we continue to cherish .
But there is no golden moment that , judged adequately and honestly , would mean that we would want to return there .
I believe in the sovereignty of God .
I don ’ t believe it was an accident that I was born in 1959 .
I believe the life that I was called to live is grounded in my birth , in 1959 , because the sovereign God of the universe determined that it would be so @ @ @ @ @ @ @ God means that I believe this is the time in which I am called to live .
It would thus be an insult to God to suggest that I should ’ ve lived in some other time , past or future .
And there are achievements of modernity .
In just about every major intellectual or historical epoch , there are genuine gains—gains of prosperity in a market economy , gains of science and modern medicine .
I ’ m very thankful for antibiotics and anesthesia and MRI technology .
If those had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t be alive to have this conversation .
I ’ m also thankful for some of the moral achievements of the modern age , which include expanding our affirmation of human dignity in a way that includes many human beings made in the image of God whose dignity had been denied , often violently so , in previous centuries .
In your book , you talk about Churchill and the glories of Western civilization .
But the places that conservatives especially tend to celebrate as having thrived are in many ways the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Can one occur without the other ?
You raise a host of issues in that question , and that ’ s a huge puzzle and challenge .
Can you have any of the aspects of modernity without setting loose the acids of modernity ?
There ’ s a sense in which cultural conservatives are increasingly pessimistic that modernity can be a limited project .
And , by the way , that doesn ’ t mean just a concern about any particular aspect of modernity , because Marx ’ s statement was “ All @ @ @ @ @ @ @ If you ’ re a modern secularist , you can say , “ Well , that ’ s great .
There goes theism.
” But the problem is , a generation from now , I hope we ’ re not looking back and saying , “ Oh , there it went , human dignity.
” Because if all that is solid melts into air , then there is no stop to modernity ’ s erosion of truth claims and settled ways of life .
And society can not exist without truth claims and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ m a Christian , so I hold to a Biblical understanding of human sinfulness , so I ’ m not surprised to see it .
Every civilization is made up of human beings who are tainted by sin and whose ambitions and motivations are often not what they should ’ ve been .
But Western , European , and North American civilization has produced notions of liberty that have survived longer than such truths have survived anywhere else .
And with an expansion of logic , that has actually served to undermine the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ civilization .
Even as Western nations and Western civilization , with expansion and imperialism and colonialism and all the rest—even though it involved the slave trade , the internal logic of Western civilization produced not only the opportunity for a counter voice but , eventually , an abolition movement that was more powerful than the argument for slavery .
It has been a very difficult task , but , decade by decade , sometimes with two steps forward and one step back , you see the cultures of Western civilization grappling with issues @ @ @ @ @ @ @ moral responsibility , that you just do not see in other experiments in human ordering .
It ’ s not an accident that so much of the debate right now is within what remains of Western civilization or those regions heavily influenced by Western civilization , because this is the only place that discourse can even take place .
I wouldn ’ t want to tell people in countries , specifically in countries where they live under a dictator that perhaps the West has supported or funded , that they don ’ t @ @ @ @ @ @ @ liberty , and— You mean the individuals ?
Yeah .
I wouldn ’ t want to say that to those individuals .
Sure .
That ’ s not what I ’ m saying .
It ’ s an institutional project .
I understand .
But it seems to me that people who embrace “ Western civilization ” as a concept want to view the struggle as having ended and don ’ t want to push any further , which seems too convenient to me .
Do you think that is unfair ?
No @ @ @ @ @ @ @ very interesting conversation , but it also points out the fact that there are different arguments being made here .
I think the self-corrective nature of Western civilization—it ’ s a project , imperfect , always imperfect , never utopian—is evident from the fact that the United States , right now , in the midst of unrest after the killing of George Floyd and other events , has a massive cultural consensus , reported in just about every major media source and backed up by survey data , about the mandate of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in society to protect that dignity for African-Americans .
And , of course , there ’ s particular historical context for that in the United States .
The United States has shown over the course of its national history a pattern of dealing badly with people who are considered different when they arrive , and then incorporating them into the American experiment such that latter generations would never have known they could have been controversial .

In the fall of 2016, Albert Mohler, the head of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and one of the most prominent evangelical thinkers in the United States, wrote an op-ed for the Washington Post in which he described Donald Trump as a “crisis of conscience” for religious conservatives, and an “excruciating” one, at that. Mohler, who has long been vocal about his opposition to same-sex marriage, abortion rights, divorce, and other tenets of secular liberalism, described Hillary Clinton as “a threat to values and causes we see as vital to human flourishing,” but argued that his fellow evangelical leaders were wrong “to serve as apologists for Donald Trump.” Mohler called Trump a “sexual predator” and asked, “How could ‘family values voters’ support a man who had, among other things, stated openly that no man’s wife was safe with him in the room? A casino titan who posed for the cover of Playboy magazine? A man who boasted that he did not repent of his (well-documented) sins and would not?” Mohler has said that he did not vote for Trump or Clinton.
In 2016, Mohler said that the “marriage of convenience” between evangelicals and the Republican Party was over. In April, 2020, however, he announced that he planned to vote for Trump this fall. In a video released by the seminary, he said that he still has concerns about Trump’s character, but that the two parties have diverged to the point that he is choosing to support the Republican candidate. Mohler’s latest book, “The Gathering Storm: Secularism, Culture, and the Church,” borrows the title of Winston Churchill’s account of the lead-up to the Second World War to describe the urgent threat of “the dechristianization of society.” Mohler and I recently spoke by phone. During our conversation, which has been edited for length and clarity, we discussed his views of modernity, why he has decided to vote for Trump, and whether Trump is speeding up the secularization of American society.
I once heard you say that you would like to live in a Victorian house, but not with Victorian medicine. Do you think the fact that we don’t have Victorian medicine has to do with changes brought about in part by these waves of secularization that you don’t like?
I appreciate the question. I’m trying to be intellectually honest. I think one temptation for conservatives is always to try to point to some golden era to which we want to return. That’s a misreading of history. There are certain realities of previous eras that we may wish to retain, and certain truths that we continue to cherish. But there is no golden moment that, judged adequately and honestly, would mean that we would want to return there.
I believe in the sovereignty of God. I don’t believe it was an accident that I was born in 1959. I believe the life that I was called to live is grounded in my birth, in 1959, because the sovereign God of the universe determined that it would be so. So believing in the sovereignty of God means that I believe this is the time in which I am called to live. It would thus be an insult to God to suggest that I should’ve lived in some other time, past or future.
And there are achievements of modernity. In just about every major intellectual or historical epoch, there are genuine gains—gains of prosperity in a market economy, gains of science and modern medicine. I’m very thankful for antibiotics and anesthesia and MRI technology. If those had not been available, I probably wouldn’t be alive to have this conversation. I’m also thankful for some of the moral achievements of the modern age, which include expanding our affirmation of human dignity in a way that includes many human beings made in the image of God whose dignity had been denied, often violently so, in previous centuries.
In your book, you talk about Churchill and the glories of Western civilization. But the places that conservatives especially tend to celebrate as having thrived are in many ways the places that have secularized the most. Can one occur without the other?
You raise a host of issues in that question, and that’s a huge puzzle and challenge. Can you have any of the aspects of modernity without setting loose the acids of modernity? There’s a sense in which cultural conservatives are increasingly pessimistic that modernity can be a limited project. And, by the way, that doesn’t mean just a concern about any particular aspect of modernity, because Marx’s statement was “All that is solid melts into air.” If you’re a modern secularist, you can say, “Well, that’s great. There goes theism.” But the problem is, a generation from now, I hope we’re not looking back and saying, “Oh, there it went, human dignity.” Because if all that is solid melts into air, then there is no stop to modernity’s erosion of truth claims and settled ways of life. And society cannot exist without truth claims and settled ways of life.
I’m a Christian, so I hold to a Biblical understanding of human sinfulness, so I’m not surprised to see it. Every civilization is made up of human beings who are tainted by sin and whose ambitions and motivations are often not what they should’ve been. But Western, European, and North American civilization has produced notions of liberty that have survived longer than such truths have survived anywhere else. And with an expansion of logic, that has actually served to undermine the faults of the nations involved in Western civilization. Even as Western nations and Western civilization, with expansion and imperialism and colonialism and all the rest—even though it involved the slave trade, the internal logic of Western civilization produced not only the opportunity for a counter voice but, eventually, an abolition movement that was more powerful than the argument for slavery. It has been a very difficult task, but, decade by decade, sometimes with two steps forward and one step back, you see the cultures of Western civilization grappling with issues of human dignity, human rights, moral responsibility, that you just do not see in other experiments in human ordering. It’s not an accident that so much of the debate right now is within what remains of Western civilization or those regions heavily influenced by Western civilization, because this is the only place that discourse can even take place.
I wouldn’t want to tell people in countries, specifically in countries where they live under a dictator that perhaps the West has supported or funded, that they don’t care about human freedom and flourishing and liberty, and—
You mean the individuals?
Yeah. I wouldn’t want to say that to those individuals.
Sure. That’s not what I’m saying. It’s an institutional project.
I understand. But it seems to me that people who embrace “Western civilization” as a concept want to view the struggle as having ended and don’t want to push any further, which seems too convenient to me. Do you think that is unfair?
No, I think that’s a very interesting conversation, but it also points out the fact that there are different arguments being made here. I think the self-corrective nature of Western civilization—it’s a project, imperfect, always imperfect, never utopian—is evident from the fact that the United States, right now, in the midst of unrest after the killing of George Floyd and other events, has a massive cultural consensus, reported in just about every major media source and backed up by survey data, about the mandate of the extension of full dignity and corrective measures in society to protect that dignity for African-Americans. And, of course, there’s particular historical context for that in the United States. The United States has shown over the course of its national history a pattern of dealing badly with people who are considered different when they arrive, and then incorporating them into the American experiment such that latter generations would never have known they could have been controversial.
You said, in 2016, “Perhaps the best we can hope for in this sad election cycle with these two unsupportable candidates is that we do not allow a national disgrace to become the Great Evangelical Embarrassment.” Trump is now supported by a huge majority of American evangelicals. Has it been an embarrassment?
Yes. President Trump is a huge embarrassment. And it’s an embarrassment to evangelical Christianity that there appear to be so many who will celebrate precisely the aspects that I see Biblically as most lamentable and embarrassing. So I have to make a distinction between voting for a candidate and rationalizing for a candidate, much less being enthusiastic about what I would see as the character faults of a candidate. I intend to vote for Donald Trump in 2020, but my shift is from reluctantly not voting for him in 2016 to what you might call reluctantly voting for him in 2020, and hoping for his reëlection, because the alternative is increasingly unthinkable. But I will not become an apologist for the misbehavior of the President and for what I see as glaring deficiencies in his private and public character.