newyorker--2020-07-18--The Depression-Era Book That Wanted to Cancel the Rent

The celebrated urbanist Jane Jacobs never hesitated to name an adversary in print .
In “ The Death and Life of Great American Cities , ” from 1961 , she takes special care to criticize Catherine Bauer , the most influential member of a cadre of city planners that Jacobs calls “ the Decentrists , ” though they were more commonly known as “ the housers.
” Jacobs accused Bauer and her circle of wanting to stifle the organic growth of cities , siphoning their tumultuous energy into sterile satellite settlements that “ resist future change , ” since “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the planners from the start and then stuck to.
” Sixty years later , Jacobs ’ s paean to city life , still in wide circulation , is the place readers are likeliest to encounter Bauer ’ s name .
They might reasonably picture a city planner in the mold of Robert Moses—Jacobs ’ most famous opponent , who fought to build a highway through Greenwich Village—though in fact Bauer disliked Moses ’ ideas almost as much as Jacobs did .
Jacobs presented a democratic vision of urban neighborhoods , in which self-governance @ @ @ @ @ @ @ live ; Bauer , by contrast , wanted the state to play the role of both developer and landlord .
The planned communities of Bauer ’ s imagination were indeed designed to resist a form of change : the creeping increase of property values that put decent housing out of reach for many Americans .
Jacobs had faith that the old buildings in places like Greenwich Village , as long as they were left standing , would remain affordable .
Bauer , convinced the market would always compel people to pay too much @ @ @ @ @ @ @ world we live in today .
Bauer ’ s only major book , “ Modern Housing , ” published in 1934 , was a staple of college reading lists when Jacobs lambasted the housers ’ “ city-destroying ideas ” in “ Death and Life.
” It spent decades out of print , until its reissue this past April , by the University of Minnesota Press , into the teeth of an economic disaster that may prove as dire as the one that shaped its author .
When the stock market crashed in 1929 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ; the beginnings of the Great Depression propelled what she later described as her development from “ an aesthete into a housing reformer.
” In “ Modern Housing , ” Bauer makes the case for what critics at the time denounced , more or less accurately , as socialized housing , although she herself framed the issue as a matter of making decent housing a “ public utility ” and a basic right .
She did not think , however , that writing books alone would bring her vision into being .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is said and done , by a handful of specialists , ” she writes in the final pages .
Change would come only when Americans “ demanded a positive program of good housing—not merely for some vague , hypothetical ‘ slum-dwellers , ’ but for themselves and their families.
” After the book ’ s publication , Bauer put aside her literary career to become a labor organizer and political lobbyist , working to drum up the broad demand she found wanting .
She fought to encode her ideas in the New Deal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ current economic crisis , there are signs of the kind of mass housing movement that never materialized during the Great Depression .
Across the country , activists are urging elected officials to cancel the rent .
More than seven hundred and ninety thousand households have gone on rent strike since March , according to the housing-justice coalition We Strike Together , and it seems likely that more will join them when pandemic unemployment assistance runs dry .
Many state-level eviction moratoriums are set to expire this summer , and one real-estate analytics firm @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be at risk of being turned onto the streets .
Black and Latino tenants , more than half of whom were “ cost-burdened ” before the pandemic—meaning they devoted more than thirty per cent of their earnings to keeping a roof over their families ’ heads—will disproportionately struggle to hold onto their homes .
Could the cruelty of evicting people in a pandemic finally elevate the demand for a right to housing into a mainstream political issue ?
Bauer once wrote , in letters quoted in the architectural historian Barbara Penner ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” that planners and experts could offer , at best , “ something to stir up the imagination ” and “ strike the spark ” to ignite broad desire for change .
Almost a century later , the ideas in her book still burn .
She draws her utopian image of a different America in so much detail that it begins to feel like a real destination .
Republished at an opportune moment , her dispatch from another crisis provides context , and perhaps inspiration , for a movement whose like she desperately @ @ @ @ @ @ @ unconcerned about shelter .
She was born in 1905 to upper-middle-class parents—her father was a highway engineer—and raised in a three-story house in Elizabeth , New Jersey , a suburb of New York .
After graduating from Vassar College in 1926 , she discovered modernism on a European tour .
She felt drawn to the social ideals expressed in functionalist buildings by architects like Le Corbusier , who famously called a house a “ machine ” that should generate maximal well being .
Bauer was tall and blond , with a frank charisma @ @ @ @ @ @ @ stride—you had to run to keep up with her—and always smoked , ” one acquaintance remembered .
She also possessed a gift for getting to know the right people .
Out dancing in Paris , she met the famous Viennese architect Adolf Loos and persuaded him to hire her by the end of the evening .
Back in New York , she kept company with artists like Alfred Stieglitz and Georgia O ’ Keeffe , and began to make her name as a writer .
Her door to the subject that would define @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an older man .
In 1929 , she met the acclaimed cultural critic Lewis Mumford , who wrote about cities and architecture for The New Yorker , and who would be the “ potter , ” she once wrote , to her “ clay.
” The intellectual influence ran both ways : Mumford once wrote that Bauer was “ the only pupil and collaborator whom I fully respected.
” He introduced her to the Regional Planning Association of America ( R.P.A.A . )
, a star-studded group that included the architects Henry Wright @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Edith Elmer Wood , and which advocated for American housing that reflected the principles of the English Garden City movement , a plan to create bucolic but socially vibrant suburbs .
Mumford also helped Bauer arrange two trips to Europe to study modernist housing , the second of which they took together , funded by Fortune magazine , which had commissioned Mumford to write a five-article series on European architecture .
He brought Bauer as his assistant , which in practice meant that she researched and wrote drafts that appeared , with his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Bauer and Mumford , soon to break up , spent the trip at loggerheads , but were aligned in their aim to mount an argument for the kind of state-subsidized housing then on the rise in countries like England , the Netherlands , and Austria .
Their leftist politics scandalized the conservative Fortune , which cancelled the project after three installments .
Bauer decided to turn her research into a book in her own name .

The celebrated urbanist Jane Jacobs never hesitated to name an adversary in print. In “The Death and Life of Great American Cities,” from 1961, she takes special care to criticize Catherine Bauer, the most influential member of a cadre of city planners that Jacobs calls “the Decentrists,” though they were more commonly known as “the housers.” Jacobs accused Bauer and her circle of wanting to stifle the organic growth of cities, siphoning their tumultuous energy into sterile satellite settlements that “resist future change,” since “every significant detail must be controlled by the planners from the start and then stuck to.”
Sixty years later, Jacobs’s paean to city life, still in wide circulation, is the place readers are likeliest to encounter Bauer’s name. They might reasonably picture a city planner in the mold of Robert Moses—Jacobs’ most famous opponent, who fought to build a highway through Greenwich Village—though in fact Bauer disliked Moses’ ideas almost as much as Jacobs did. Jacobs presented a democratic vision of urban neighborhoods, in which self-governance naturally gave rise to good places to live; Bauer, by contrast, wanted the state to play the role of both developer and landlord. The planned communities of Bauer’s imagination were indeed designed to resist a form of change: the creeping increase of property values that put decent housing out of reach for many Americans. Jacobs had faith that the old buildings in places like Greenwich Village, as long as they were left standing, would remain affordable. Bauer, convinced the market would always compel people to pay too much for too little, better anticipated the world we live in today.
Bauer’s only major book, “Modern Housing,” published in 1934, was a staple of college reading lists when Jacobs lambasted the housers’ “city-destroying ideas” in “Death and Life.” It spent decades out of print, until its reissue this past April, by the University of Minnesota Press, into the teeth of an economic disaster that may prove as dire as the one that shaped its author. When the stock market crashed in 1929, Bauer was a twenty-four-year-old architecture critic; the beginnings of the Great Depression propelled what she later described as her development from “an aesthete into a housing reformer.” In “Modern Housing,” Bauer makes the case for what critics at the time denounced, more or less accurately, as socialized housing, although she herself framed the issue as a matter of making decent housing a “public utility” and a basic right. She did not think, however, that writing books alone would bring her vision into being. “Movements are not made, when all is said and done, by a handful of specialists,” she writes in the final pages. Change would come only when Americans “demanded a positive program of good housing—not merely for some vague, hypothetical ‘slum-dwellers,’ but for themselves and their families.” After the book’s publication, Bauer put aside her literary career to become a labor organizer and political lobbyist, working to drum up the broad demand she found wanting. She fought to encode her ideas in the New Deal, and largely failed.
In our current economic crisis, there are signs of the kind of mass housing movement that never materialized during the Great Depression. Across the country, activists are urging elected officials to cancel the rent. More than seven hundred and ninety thousand households have gone on rent strike since March, according to the housing-justice coalition We Strike Together, and it seems likely that more will join them when pandemic unemployment assistance runs dry. Many state-level eviction moratoriums are set to expire this summer, and one real-estate analytics firm estimates that twenty-eight million renters may soon be at risk of being turned onto the streets. Black and Latino tenants, more than half of whom were “cost-burdened” before the pandemic—meaning they devoted more than thirty per cent of their earnings to keeping a roof over their families’ heads—will disproportionately struggle to hold onto their homes. Could the cruelty of evicting people in a pandemic finally elevate the demand for a right to housing into a mainstream political issue?
Bauer once wrote, in letters quoted in the architectural historian Barbara Penner’s new foreword to “Modern Housing,” that planners and experts could offer, at best, “something to stir up the imagination” and “strike the spark” to ignite broad desire for change. Almost a century later, the ideas in her book still burn. She draws her utopian image of a different America in so much detail that it begins to feel like a real destination. Republished at an opportune moment, her dispatch from another crisis provides context, and perhaps inspiration, for a movement whose like she desperately longed to see.
Bauer grew up unconcerned about shelter. She was born in 1905 to upper-middle-class parents—her father was a highway engineer—and raised in a three-story house in Elizabeth, New Jersey, a suburb of New York. After graduating from Vassar College in 1926, she discovered modernism on a European tour. She felt drawn to the social ideals expressed in functionalist buildings by architects like Le Corbusier, who famously called a house a “machine” that should generate maximal well being. Bauer was tall and blond, with a frank charisma; “she walked with an enormous stride—you had to run to keep up with her—and always smoked,” one acquaintance remembered. She also possessed a gift for getting to know the right people. Out dancing in Paris, she met the famous Viennese architect Adolf Loos and persuaded him to hire her by the end of the evening. Back in New York, she kept company with artists like Alfred Stieglitz and Georgia O’Keeffe, and began to make her name as a writer.
Her door to the subject that would define her life was a love affair with an older man. In 1929, she met the acclaimed cultural critic Lewis Mumford, who wrote about cities and architecture for The New Yorker, and who would be the “potter,” she once wrote, to her “clay.” The intellectual influence ran both ways: Mumford once wrote that Bauer was “the only pupil and collaborator whom I fully respected.” He introduced her to the Regional Planning Association of America (R.P.A.A.), a star-studded group that included the architects Henry Wright and Clarence Stein and the housing reformer Edith Elmer Wood, and which advocated for American housing that reflected the principles of the English Garden City movement, a plan to create bucolic but socially vibrant suburbs.
Mumford also helped Bauer arrange two trips to Europe to study modernist housing, the second of which they took together, funded by Fortune magazine, which had commissioned Mumford to write a five-article series on European architecture. He brought Bauer as his assistant, which in practice meant that she researched and wrote drafts that appeared, with his edits, under his sole byline. Bauer and Mumford, soon to break up, spent the trip at loggerheads, but were aligned in their aim to mount an argument for the kind of state-subsidized housing then on the rise in countries like England, the Netherlands, and Austria. Their leftist politics scandalized the conservative Fortune, which cancelled the project after three installments. Bauer decided to turn her research into a book in her own name.
“Modern Housing” begins with a history of the Depression-era housing crisis that will sound familiar to contemporary readers. The supposed prosperity of the nineteen-twenties masked rising rents, stagnant wages, and a significant shortage of low-income and middle-class housing. Only the “upper-third income group” could afford the new homes being built, Bauer writes. The problem, she argues, was not so much the real-estate industry as the basic function of the free market. The cost of housing is tied to the value of land, which is determined by “the most intensive”—which is to say, overcrowded—“future use to which a speculator estimates that the plot can be put.” The price of land thus reflects “the lowest housing standards permissible,” driving down standards of living even for the affluent, and consigning the poor to the slums. This is the basis of Bauer’s core argument, which is that housing must be decommodified. Good housing that is “available to the average citizen is not a ‘normal’ product of a capitalist society,” she writes.
The dwellings Bauer aspired to see in America, which she terms “modern housing,” must therefore be “non-speculative”: owned by public entities or nonprofit coöperatives. They must be affordable, with the help of government subsidies, to people on the lowest incomes, while also attracting middle-class residents, who will find them airier and more attractive than the free-market alternatives. That these groups should have access to equal amenities was axiomatic for Bauer. “If you start with sun and air and biological requirements, you cannot say that because this family has only half the income of that family, they should have only half as good an outlook or half as big a playground or half as much water or half a toilet,” she writes. Modern housing cannot be designed one building at a time but rather must be conceived as a town or neighborhood, a practice that controls costs while maximizing shared green space, granting “sunlight, quiet, and a pleasant outlook from every window.”
Such places existed, though not in America. During the twenties, while the U.S. doubled down on a laissez-faire notion of economic prosperity, European nations responded to a post-First World War housing shortage by building at least six million state-subsidized dwellings, four and a half million of which, by Bauer’s calculation, housed “about one seventh” of the families in England, Holland, Germany, and several other countries. (Some survive: more than sixty per cent of residents of Vienna live in social housing today.) The centralized planning of these communities was intended to be more than aesthetically pleasing. Bauer wrote that no modern housing development was complete without a nursery school, and probably also a café. As the historian Gail Radford notes in her classic study of New Deal housing policy, “Modern Housing for America,” Bauer would later promote these shared amenities in the hopes that they would form the basis of “cross-class coalitions” between residents, which could then be converted into political support for more modern housing.


newyorker--2020-07-18--Additional New York City Reopening Phases

Phase V :  The proper response to a stranger deliberately sneezing on you will once again be a lighthearted “ Only in New York !
, ” instead of the paralyzing fear that you have only seconds left to live .
Phase VI : All of the rich people will come back .
Phase VII : All of the rich people will leave again , upon remembering that August in New York isn ’ t very pleasant , regardless of whether there ’ s a pandemic going on .
Phase VIII : It will resume being socially acceptable to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ but ” from the phrase “ Normally , I don ’ t like Andrew Cuomo , but .
.
.
” Phase IX : All pledges to start looking for housing options in the suburbs will be completely abandoned and forgotten .
Phase X : CBGB will reopen , but just for three hours , and you ’ ll only be allowed in if you know the password or are Patti Smith , and no one will tell you the password , so you ’ ll have to settle for reading tweets @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Phase XI : The standard and appropriate response to the question “ How is New York City ?
” will once again be “ Morally and culturally superior to all other parts of the world.
” Phase XII : Talking for more than three hours about how upset the Knicks trading Kristaps Porzingis to the Mavericks made you will no longer be viewed as a sign that you are not focussing on the actual biggest threat to the city .
Phase XIII : That baby shower in Staten Island you really didn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were kind of hoping the pandemic would end up cancelling will officially be allowed to take place .
It will be much longer than expected .
Phase XIV : The U.S.N.S .
Comfort will return to Manhattan , but , this time , it will be for a giant dance party , at which all attendees are required to be touching at least three other attendees throughout the night .
Phase XV : I guess you can maybe stop doing the 7 P.M. cheer for essential workers ?
I mean , it ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ appreciate essential workers anymore , it ’ s just .
.
.
well , I don ’ t know , are we just doing this forever now ?
No one gets applauded for doing their job every day , do they ?
Not unless they ’ re hugely important people , like professional athletes or late-night talk-show hosts or members of Mötley Crüe .
You know , on second thought , just keep doing it .
Phase XVI : People will be allowed to enter lotteries for Broadway tickets again .
No one @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the shows , but entering the lottery is half the fun , right ?
Phase XVII : Giant , apelike creatures will once again be permitted to scale the city ’ s skyscrapers in tragically misguided attempts to possess the ingénues they have fallen in love with .
Phase XVIII : You will start to run dangerously low on excuses for why you don ’ t feel safe attending your friend ’ s improv shows and may just have to admit that you don ’ t think her troupe is very funny .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ quarantine life will set in as you begin to remember that your life was not exactly perfect when things were “ normal , ” either .
And , now that things are finally close to normal again , all you can do is think about how you should have used your time in quarantine more effectively .
You should have written more ; you should have read more ; you should have got to know yourself and your loved ones better .
Instead , you watched “ Tiger King.
” Twice !
And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ anymore !
Ugh , what a waste of an opportunity for self-improvement .
Phase XX : The second wave of the coronavirus should begin around this time .

Phase V: The proper response to a stranger deliberately sneezing on you will once again be a lighthearted “Only in New York!,” instead of the paralyzing fear that you have only seconds left to live.
Phase VI: All of the rich people will come back.
Phase VII: All of the rich people will leave again, upon remembering that August in New York isn’t very pleasant, regardless of whether there’s a pandemic going on.
Phase VIII: It will resume being socially acceptable to remove the words “normally” and “but” from the phrase “Normally, I don’t like Andrew Cuomo, but . . .”
Phase IX: All pledges to start looking for housing options in the suburbs will be completely abandoned and forgotten.
Phase X: CBGB will reopen, but just for three hours, and you’ll only be allowed in if you know the password or are Patti Smith, and no one will tell you the password, so you’ll have to settle for reading tweets about it and pretending you were there.
Phase XI: The standard and appropriate response to the question “How is New York City?” will once again be “Morally and culturally superior to all other parts of the world.”
Phase XII: Talking for more than three hours about how upset the Knicks trading Kristaps Porzingis to the Mavericks made you will no longer be viewed as a sign that you are not focussing on the actual biggest threat to the city.
Phase XIII: That baby shower in Staten Island you really didn’t want to go to and were kind of hoping the pandemic would end up cancelling will officially be allowed to take place. It will be much longer than expected.
Phase XIV: The U.S.N.S. Comfort will return to Manhattan, but, this time, it will be for a giant dance party, at which all attendees are required to be touching at least three other attendees throughout the night.
Phase XV: I guess you can maybe stop doing the 7 P.M. cheer for essential workers? I mean, it’s not like you don’t appreciate essential workers anymore, it’s just . . . well, I don’t know, are we just doing this forever now? No one gets applauded for doing their job every day, do they? Not unless they’re hugely important people, like professional athletes or late-night talk-show hosts or members of Mötley Crüe. You know, on second thought, just keep doing it.
Phase XVI: People will be allowed to enter lotteries for Broadway tickets again. No one will actually be able to go see the shows, but entering the lottery is half the fun, right?
Phase XVII: Giant, apelike creatures will once again be permitted to scale the city’s skyscrapers in tragically misguided attempts to possess the ingénues they have fallen in love with.
Phase XVIII: You will start to run dangerously low on excuses for why you don’t feel safe attending your friend’s improv shows and may just have to admit that you don’t think her troupe is very funny.
Phase XIX: Highly questionable nostalgia for quarantine life will set in as you begin to remember that your life was not exactly perfect when things were “normal,” either. And, now that things are finally close to normal again, all you can do is think about how you should have used your time in quarantine more effectively. You should have written more; you should have read more; you should have got to know yourself and your loved ones better. Instead, you watched “Tiger King.” Twice! And no one even cares about that show anymore! Ugh, what a waste of an opportunity for self-improvement.
Phase XX: The second wave of the coronavirus should begin around this time.


newyorker--2020-07-18--Coronavirus, Conspiracy Theory, and Denialism

Last Saturday marked the twenty-fifth anniversary of Europe ’ s worst massacre since the Second World War .
In 1995 , in the final months of the war in Bosnia , eight thousand Muslim men and boys were killed in mass executions around the town of Srebrenica .
In the years since , their widows and children , along with thousands of other mourners , have gathered to attend an annual ceremony honoring those deaths .
It is held on July 11th , the day that the enclave fell to Bosnian Serb forces and the killings began .
This year @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to limit the gathering to several hundred people .
Those who did attend wore masks .
Diplomats from around the world , as they do each year , issued solemn messages of regret for the international community ’ s culpability in the killings .
In a humanitarian half-measure that went fatally wrong , American and European officials devised a scheme in which U.N. peacekeepers stripped Srebrenica ’ s Muslim defenders of their most powerful weaponry and declared the town a “ United Nations-protected safe area.
” Two years later , they stood by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and killed nearly every Bosnian Muslim male they captured .
This year , owing to the coronavirus pandemic , the remorseful messages from foreign dignitaries were pre-taped videos , including ones from Secretary of State Mike Pompeo and the actress Angelina Jolie .
Most of the messages focussed on the growing denial of the massacres by Bosnian Serb nationalists , which reflects , in turn , the stalled effort to reunify the country , a quarter century after the killings ceased .
I covered the war in 1994 and 1995 , and wrote @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Science Monitor that helped expose the killings in Srebrenica .
Every five years , I ’ ve tried to return for the commemoration .
Over time , I ’ ve listened as , despite mounting evidence , Serb nationalists have increasingly denied what occurred .
On my most recent visit , in 2015 , they flatly dismissed the findings of the largest DNA-identification project in the world , which has matched the remains of 6,909 men with their surviving relatives .
Several hundred other men who went missing have never been found .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ the killings , exhuming mass graves , establishing the Bosnian Serb military chain of command during the executions , and ruling , in 2004 , that they constitute genocide—acts committed with the intent to destroy , in whole or in part , a national , ethnical , racial , or religious group .
On my last visit , in otherwise genial conversations , Serb civilians told me fantastical conspiracy theories .
The Bosnian Muslims listed as dead in the town ’ s graveyard , where the remains of six thousand people are buried @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in Germany , a woman told me .
Muslims had stolen the bodies of Serbs and falsely declared them massacre victims , a man said .
Others called the reports of eight thousand dead a “ farce , ” a “ circus , ” and “ make believe.
” Such statements were disappointing but not surprising .
During the war , Serb nationalist leaders had spread conspiracy theories in order to maintain popular support for both the conflict and their hold on power .
At the time , I blamed the embrace of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in wartime .
Telling the big lie works , I thought , when a population fears for its safety .
A diplomat based in Bosnia who asked not to be named told me that , decades after the war ’ s end , corrupt nationalist leaders and the media outlets they control have been perpetuating the rhetoric of mistrust and fear in the country , particularly before elections .
The glorification of convicted war criminals , the denial of genocide and war crimes , and bitter disputes around conflicting commemorations all create an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ becoming the norm .
Last year , Milorad Dodik , the Bosnian Serb member of Bosnia and Herzegovina ’ s tripartite Presidency , called the Srebrenica genocide “ a fabricated myth.
” In 2016 , he named a student dormitory in a Serb-dominated town for the wartime Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadžić , after the U.N. tribunal had convicted him of genocide .
Last month , Bosnian Serbs painted a mural of Ratko Mladić , the Bosnian Serb Army chief , whose forces carried out the Srebrenica killings , on the wall of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , was convicted of genocide , in 2017 .
Last month , Judge Carmel Agius , the president of the U.N. war-crimes court , told Reuters that Bosnian Serb officials had launched a systematic effort to teach schoolchildren that the Srebrenica genocide never occurred .
“ What you find is a humongous effort on the part of the authorities to indoctrinate their children with their own version of the events , ” Agius said .
Some Bosnian Serb leaders have even begun staging celebrations of “ the 1995 liberation of Srebrenica ” on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ denial has spread internationally as well , with left- and right-wing online commentators questioning the extent of the killings .
Last year , the Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded to the Austrian novelist and playwright Peter Handke , who has publicly questioned the number of killings in Srebrenica .
After travelling in the former Yugoslavia after the war , Handke published a series of essays , including one in which he wrote , “ I want to ask how such a massacre is to be explained , carried out.
” In 2006 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ funeral of Slobodan Milosević , the wartime President of Serbia , who armed and aided the Bosnian Serb forces .
At Saturday ’ s ceremony , Šefik Džaferović , the Bosnian Muslim member of the tripartite Presidency , urged the international community to help combat the false claims .
“ I am calling on our friends from around the world to show , not just with words but also with actions , that they will not accept the denial of genocide and celebration of its perpetrators , ” he said .
“ The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ systematically and meticulously as it was executed in 1995.
” The issues of denialism and historical revisionism took on new meaning as I watched the commemoration from the United States , a country so divided and dysfunctional that it is unable to effectively respond to the coronavirus .
Like most Americans , I had hoped that , at this point in our history , the successful use of disinformation , conspiracy theories , and denialism for significant political gain was no longer viable .
I assumed , arrogantly , that our nation ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ its free press , would reject , expose , and discredit false claims .
Instead , in recent years , a willingness to distort basic facts , the rise of partisan media outlets , and the explosion of false information online has made denialism politically profitable in the U.S. As a pandemic , protests for racial justice , and a Presidential race unfold across the country , an extraordinary level of confusion and division has beset the country .
Basic tenets of American governance , from trusting nonpartisan experts to election results , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ problem is President Trump ’ s embrace of such tactics , but it is foolish to ignore the distrust , institutional decay , and alienation that contribute to his appeal .
I had told myself that , if a national calamity befell the United States , its leaders and institutions would rise to the challenge .
Instead , today , more than a hundred and thirty thousand Americans are dead of the coronavirus—a toll larger , in fact , than the hundred thousand who perished in the war in Bosnia .
The virus @ @ @ @ @ @ @ U.S. , with forty-two deaths per hundred thousand cases , six times the rate of seven per hundred thousand in Bosnia .

Last Saturday marked the twenty-fifth anniversary of Europe’s worst massacre since the Second World War. In 1995, in the final months of the war in Bosnia, eight thousand Muslim men and boys were killed in mass executions around the town of Srebrenica. In the years since, their widows and children, along with thousands of other mourners, have gathered to attend an annual ceremony honoring those deaths. It is held on July 11th, the day that the enclave fell to Bosnian Serb forces and the killings began. This year, fear of the coronavirus prompted authorities to limit the gathering to several hundred people. Those who did attend wore masks.
Diplomats from around the world, as they do each year, issued solemn messages of regret for the international community’s culpability in the killings. In a humanitarian half-measure that went fatally wrong, American and European officials devised a scheme in which U.N. peacekeepers stripped Srebrenica’s Muslim defenders of their most powerful weaponry and declared the town a “United Nations-protected safe area.” Two years later, they stood by as Bosnian Serb nationalists overran the town and killed nearly every Bosnian Muslim male they captured. This year, owing to the coronavirus pandemic, the remorseful messages from foreign dignitaries were pre-taped videos, including ones from Secretary of State Mike Pompeo and the actress Angelina Jolie. Most of the messages focussed on the growing denial of the massacres by Bosnian Serb nationalists, which reflects, in turn, the stalled effort to reunify the country, a quarter century after the killings ceased.
I covered the war in 1994 and 1995, and wrote a series of stories for the Christian Science Monitor that helped expose the killings in Srebrenica. Every five years, I’ve tried to return for the commemoration. Over time, I’ve listened as, despite mounting evidence, Serb nationalists have increasingly denied what occurred. On my most recent visit, in 2015, they flatly dismissed the findings of the largest DNA-identification project in the world, which has matched the remains of 6,909 men with their surviving relatives. Several hundred other men who went missing have never been found. A U.N. war-crimes tribunal has exhaustively documented the killings, exhuming mass graves, establishing the Bosnian Serb military chain of command during the executions, and ruling, in 2004, that they constitute genocide—acts committed with the intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial, or religious group.
On my last visit, in otherwise genial conversations, Serb civilians told me fantastical conspiracy theories. The Bosnian Muslims listed as dead in the town’s graveyard, where the remains of six thousand people are buried, were really still alive and living in Germany, a woman told me. Muslims had stolen the bodies of Serbs and falsely declared them massacre victims, a man said. Others called the reports of eight thousand dead a “farce,” a “circus,” and “make believe.”
Such statements were disappointing but not surprising. During the war, Serb nationalist leaders had spread conspiracy theories in order to maintain popular support for both the conflict and their hold on power. At the time, I blamed the embrace of denialism on the trauma that people experience in wartime. Telling the big lie works, I thought, when a population fears for its safety. A diplomat based in Bosnia who asked not to be named told me that, decades after the war’s end, corrupt nationalist leaders and the media outlets they control have been perpetuating the rhetoric of mistrust and fear in the country, particularly before elections. The glorification of convicted war criminals, the denial of genocide and war crimes, and bitter disputes around conflicting commemorations all create an environment of perpetual division that is gradually becoming the norm.
Last year, Milorad Dodik, the Bosnian Serb member of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s tripartite Presidency, called the Srebrenica genocide “a fabricated myth.” In 2016, he named a student dormitory in a Serb-dominated town for the wartime Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadžić, after the U.N. tribunal had convicted him of genocide. Last month, Bosnian Serbs painted a mural of Ratko Mladić, the Bosnian Serb Army chief, whose forces carried out the Srebrenica killings, on the wall of a primary school. Mladić, too, was convicted of genocide, in 2017. Last month, Judge Carmel Agius, the president of the U.N. war-crimes court, told Reuters that Bosnian Serb officials had launched a systematic effort to teach schoolchildren that the Srebrenica genocide never occurred. “What you find is a humongous effort on the part of the authorities to indoctrinate their children with their own version of the events,” Agius said. Some Bosnian Serb leaders have even begun staging celebrations of “the 1995 liberation of Srebrenica” on the anniversary of the killings.
The denial has spread internationally as well, with left- and right-wing online commentators questioning the extent of the killings. Last year, the Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded to the Austrian novelist and playwright Peter Handke, who has publicly questioned the number of killings in Srebrenica. After travelling in the former Yugoslavia after the war, Handke published a series of essays, including one in which he wrote, “I want to ask how such a massacre is to be explained, carried out.” In 2006, he delivered a eulogy at the funeral of Slobodan Milosević, the wartime President of Serbia, who armed and aided the Bosnian Serb forces.
At Saturday’s ceremony, Šefik Džaferović, the Bosnian Muslim member of the tripartite Presidency, urged the international community to help combat the false claims. “I am calling on our friends from around the world to show, not just with words but also with actions, that they will not accept the denial of genocide and celebration of its perpetrators,” he said. “The Srebrenica genocide is being denied just as systematically and meticulously as it was executed in 1995.”
The issues of denialism and historical revisionism took on new meaning as I watched the commemoration from the United States, a country so divided and dysfunctional that it is unable to effectively respond to the coronavirus. Like most Americans, I had hoped that, at this point in our history, the successful use of disinformation, conspiracy theories, and denialism for significant political gain was no longer viable. I assumed, arrogantly, that our nation’s democratic institutions, as well as its free press, would reject, expose, and discredit false claims. Instead, in recent years, a willingness to distort basic facts, the rise of partisan media outlets, and the explosion of false information online has made denialism politically profitable in the U.S. As a pandemic, protests for racial justice, and a Presidential race unfold across the country, an extraordinary level of confusion and division has beset the country. Basic tenets of American governance, from trusting nonpartisan experts to election results, are under assault. Part of the problem is President Trump’s embrace of such tactics, but it is foolish to ignore the distrust, institutional decay, and alienation that contribute to his appeal.
I had told myself that, if a national calamity befell the United States, its leaders and institutions would rise to the challenge. Instead, today, more than a hundred and thirty thousand Americans are dead of the coronavirus—a toll larger, in fact, than the hundred thousand who perished in the war in Bosnia. The virus has also been far deadlier in the U.S., with forty-two deaths per hundred thousand people, six times the rate of seven per hundred thousand in Bosnia.


newyorker--2020-07-18--Richard Linklater Talks the Future of Cinema—in His Own Empty Theatre

For much of this past spring , the scene in Austin , Texas , felt like the dream that Richard Linklater describes in the opening monologue of “ Slacker ” —the early-nineties film that he wrote , acted in , and shot in the city .
“ Man , I just had the weirdest dream , back on the bus there ?
” his character tells a disinterested cabdriver .
“ There was nothing going on at all .
Man , it was like ‘ The Omega Man.
’ There was just nobody around .
.
.
.
When I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like , flipping through the TV stations endlessly , reading.
” Austin issued its first stay-at-home order on March 24th , as the number of coronavirus cases in Texas approached a thousand .
Then , on May 1st , hours after reporting a record-high single-day death toll , the state initiated its reopening process .
The governor , Greg Abbott , invited businesses to reopen at reduced capacity .
In Austin , some shops and restaurants opened their doors immediately ; Cisco ’ s , a popular Tex-Mex diner , used blue painter @ @ @ @ @ @ @ stools at the counter , while Texas Chili Parlor , a restaurant in the shadow of the state capitol , seated customers in its back room .
Others were more reluctant .
A.F.S .
Cinema , the movie theatre run by the Austin Film Society—a group that Linklater founded , in 1985—was the first theatre to announce that it would remain closed .
( “ Whatever control experiment the government seems to want to be doing right now , we ’ re not going to be on the front end of that , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ followed suit : as of July , only five of the more than twenty theatres in the Austin area have attempted to reopen .
The other day , Linklater drove forty minutes from his home , southeast of Austin , , into the city , to go to the movies .
He pulled up at a white-stucco strip mall that is sandwiched between chain hotels and empty lots , and headed toward the corner of the building , where the A.F.S .
Cinema has operated since 2013 .
The theatre shows independent , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a soft spot for films made in Texas .
Linklater , the Austin Film Society ’ s artistic director , no longer calls all the organization ’ s shots , but he still curates screenings for the cinema—including a “ never-ending ” run of films from the nineteen-eighties .
The week the theatre closed , in March , had originally been committed to screenings for the South by Southwest festival .
( The entire festival was cancelled owing to the pandemic , too . )
“ First venture out , ” Linklater said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lobby , hands on hips .
“ Everything in suspended animation.
” He wore a polka-dotted face mask , a short-sleeved button-down , shorts , and a pair of Keen hiking sandals .
Days before the stay-at-home order went into effect , he 'd finished production on his next movie , “ Apollo 10½ : A Space Age Adventure , ” a story set in Houston during the 1969 moon landing .
The film , inspired by Linklater ’ s memories , follows the mission as well as a group of children fantasizing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in live-action and will be partially animated using techniques similar to rotoscoping ; Linklater had spent much of his time in quarantine editing the footage .
He ’ d also been watching old movies with his sixteen-year-old twin daughters , such as “ Gim me Shelter , ” the documentary about the Rolling Stones on tour .
That is , until his projector broke .
“ It ’ s about the worst time ever , ” he said .
“ I hate to even mention it.
” Like a dog sniffing out his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the movie posters hanging by the theatre entrances— “ Kiss Me Deadly , ” “ Il Deserto Rosso , ” an entire wall for posters made in Poland—all taken from his vast collection .
He considered where to place a new one he ’ d bought in Paris ( “ There ’ s something about those Paris poster shops ” ) , for the Blaxploitation film “ Coffy.
” “ I thought it would be a nice mix , ” he said .
Then he eyed a crimson print from Jean-Luc Godard ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ whether he should replace it .
“ We 're a little too Eurocentric here.
” The cinema was closed to the public , but it wasn ’ t empty ; Aaron Malzahn , the technical manager , was around to tend to the equipment—the digital projectors and servers need to be switched on and off throughout the month , lest they lose their connection , like an idling car battery .
Holly Herrick , the Austin Film Society ’ s head of film and creative media , was there , too , with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Like Linklater , she hadn ’ t visited the theatre since March .
“ I was a little worried at how emotional I ’ d be , ” she said .
“ But I ’ m so used to walking through those doors that it doesn ’ t feel like much time has passed.
” “ It ’ s definitely a lack , you know , ” Linklater said , of the theatre being closed .
“ It ’ s like something has been removed .
Then there ’ s the personal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like , I need this .
But this is one thing we all believe so strongly.
” Linklater moved to Austin in 1983 , and began taking film classes at Austin Community College .
The University of Texas was a four-minute bike ride away from his home , and he used to catch screenings from the school ’ s different departments .
He hit the ceiling of offerings quickly ; one could find ways to watch “ Wild Strawberries ” and “ Seven Samurai , ” but rarely anything beyond the Film 101 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the owner of Quackenbush ’ s , a coffee shop near campus , to let them use the building ’ s upstairs space , rent-free , to screen 16-mm .
prints of films .
As the screenings grew popular , the owner wanted to charge them , and so they moved out and floated around other city spaces .
The group called itself the Austin Film Society .
Linklater never left Austin , but he moved from screening films to making them ; after “ Slacker ” brought him into the indie limelight @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ Waking Life ” earned him widespread critical acclaim ( and “ School of Rock ” more mainstream attention ) .
He became known for his patience as a filmmaker , working with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy over the course of eighteen years for his “ Before ” trilogy , and with Hawke , Patricia Arquette , and Ellar Coltrane for twelve years while shooting “ Boyhood , ” both of which garnered Oscar nominations .
The Austin Film Society , meanwhile , kept growing .
Along with the cinema , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ well as a media studio where locals can rent out film equipment and take classes .
The society has built up a loyal audience of filmmakers and viewers that , Linklater believes , will return when it ’ s safe—whenever that might be .
“ For all of us who come here , it ’ s kind of our entire social life , ” Herrick said .
“ You have a great screening , and then it starts here in this room , ” Linklater said , hovering his hands by the doors @ @ @ @ @ @ @ goes out there ” —to the lobby and bar— ” and somebody orders a drink .
By the end of the night , you finally go to your car , an hour after the movie ended .
You ’ re not to be processed .
You ’ re to hang out.
” Linklater has managed to enshrine , through cinema , the flow state of hanging out , whether in the hormone-heavy atmosphere of a college campus ( “ Everybody Wants Some !
!
” ) or in the intoxicating , painful exchanges @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Before ” trilogy ) .
In his life , such moments have often happened because of cinema .
It is impossible to replicate this without a physical space .
“ Film people are film people , ” he said .
“ There ’ s no place they ’ d rather be than in a theatre .
”

For much of this past spring, the scene in Austin, Texas, felt like the dream that Richard Linklater describes in the opening monologue of “Slacker”—the early-nineties film that he wrote, acted in, and shot in the city. “Man, I just had the weirdest dream, back on the bus there?” his character tells a disinterested cabdriver. “There was nothing going on at all. Man, it was like ‘The Omega Man.’ There was just nobody around. . . . When I was at home, I was, like, flipping through the TV stations endlessly, reading.” Austin issued its first stay-at-home order on March 24th, as the number of coronavirus cases in Texas approached a thousand. Then, on May 1st, hours after reporting a record-high single-day death toll, the state initiated its reopening process. The governor, Greg Abbott, invited businesses to reopen at reduced capacity.
In Austin, some shops and restaurants opened their doors immediately; Cisco’s, a popular Tex-Mex diner, used blue painter’s tape to block out alternating stools at the counter, while Texas Chili Parlor, a restaurant in the shadow of the state capitol, seated customers in its back room. Others were more reluctant. A.F.S. Cinema, the movie theatre run by the Austin Film Society—a group that Linklater founded, in 1985—was the first theatre to announce that it would remain closed. (“Whatever control experiment the government seems to want to be doing right now, we’re not going to be on the front end of that,” Linklater later explained.) Others followed suit: as of July, only five of the more than twenty theatres in the Austin area have attempted to reopen.
The other day, Linklater drove forty minutes from his home, southeast of Austin, into the city, to go to the movies. He pulled up at a white-stucco strip mall that is sandwiched between chain hotels and empty lots, and headed toward the corner of the building, where the A.F.S. Cinema has operated since 2013. The theatre shows independent, foreign, and experimental movies, with a soft spot for films made in Texas. Linklater, the Austin Film Society’s artistic director, no longer calls all the organization’s shots, but he still curates screenings for the cinema—including a “never-ending” run of films from the nineteen-eighties. The week the theatre closed, in March, had originally been committed to screenings for the South by Southwest festival. (The entire festival was cancelled owing to the pandemic, too.)
“First venture out,” Linklater said, wandering through the cinema’s lobby, hands on hips. “Everything in suspended animation.” He wore a polka-dotted face mask, a short-sleeved button-down, shorts, and a pair of Keen hiking sandals. Days before the stay-at-home order went into effect, he'd finished production on his next movie, “Apollo 10½: A Space Age Adventure,” a story set in Houston during the 1969 moon landing. The film, inspired by Linklater’s memories, follows the mission as well as a group of children fantasizing about it from Earth. It was shot in live-action and will be partially animated using techniques similar to rotoscoping; Linklater had spent much of his time in quarantine editing the footage. He’d also been watching old movies with his sixteen-year-old twin daughters, such as “Gimme Shelter,” the documentary about the Rolling Stones on tour. That is, until his projector broke. “It’s about the worst time ever,” he said. “I hate to even mention it.”
Like a dog sniffing out his old digs, Linklater scurried over to the movie posters hanging by the theatre entrances—“Kiss Me Deadly,” “Il Deserto Rosso,” an entire wall for posters made in Poland—all taken from his vast collection. He considered where to place a new one he’d bought in Paris (“There’s something about those Paris poster shops”), for the Blaxploitation film “Coffy.” “I thought it would be a nice mix,” he said. Then he eyed a crimson print from Jean-Luc Godard’s “La Chinoise,” wondering whether he should replace it. “We're a little too Eurocentric here.”
The cinema was closed to the public, but it wasn’t empty; Aaron Malzahn, the technical manager, was around to tend to the equipment—the digital projectors and servers need to be switched on and off throughout the month, lest they lose their connection, like an idling car battery. Holly Herrick, the Austin Film Society’s head of film and creative media, was there, too, with a cloth napkin wrapped around her face. Like Linklater, she hadn’t visited the theatre since March. “I was a little worried at how emotional I’d be,” she said. “But I’m so used to walking through those doors that it doesn’t feel like much time has passed.”
“It’s definitely a lack, you know,” Linklater said, of the theatre being closed. “It’s like something has been removed. Then there’s the personal loss. You almost feel selfish, like, I need this. But this is one thing we all believe so strongly.”
Linklater moved to Austin in 1983, and began taking film classes at Austin Community College. The University of Texas was a four-minute bike ride away from his home, and he used to catch screenings from the school’s different departments. He hit the ceiling of offerings quickly; one could find ways to watch “Wild Strawberries” and “Seven Samurai,” but rarely anything beyond the Film 101 canon. He and his friends persuaded the owner of Quackenbush’s, a coffee shop near campus, to let them use the building’s upstairs space, rent-free, to screen 16-mm. prints of films. As the screenings grew popular, the owner wanted to charge them, and so they moved out and floated around other city spaces. The group called itself the Austin Film Society.
Linklater never left Austin, but he moved from screening films to making them; after “Slacker” brought him into the indie limelight, “Dazed and Confused” and “Waking Life” earned him widespread critical acclaim (and “School of Rock” more mainstream attention). He became known for his patience as a filmmaker, working with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy over the course of eighteen years for his “Before” trilogy, and with Hawke, Patricia Arquette, and Ellar Coltrane for twelve years while shooting “Boyhood,” both of which garnered Oscar nominations. The Austin Film Society, meanwhile, kept growing. Along with the cinema, the organization runs a production complex, as well as a media studio where locals can rent out film equipment and take classes. The society has built up a loyal audience of filmmakers and viewers that, Linklater believes, will return when it’s safe—whenever that might be. “For all of us who come here, it’s kind of our entire social life,” Herrick said.
“You have a great screening, and then it starts here in this room,” Linklater said, hovering his hands by the doors to the theatres. “Then it goes out there”—to the lobby and bar—“and somebody orders a drink. By the end of the night, you finally go to your car, an hour after the movie ended. You’re not to be processed. You’re to hang out.” Linklater has managed to enshrine, through cinema, the flow state of hanging out, whether in the hormone-heavy atmosphere of a college campus (“Everybody Wants Some!!”) or in the intoxicating, painful exchanges between two unlikely lovers (the “Before” trilogy). In his life, such moments have often happened because of cinema. It is impossible to replicate this without a physical space. “Film people are film people,” he said. “There’s no place they’d rather be than in a theatre.”
The “death of movie theatres” has been anticipated since the invention of television. But, in recent months, the threat has seemed more tangible: theatres are enclosed and, ideally, crowded, and most of their profits come from concessions, which are difficult to eat while wearing a mask. The commercial chains are perhaps the most at risk of mass failure; in March, AMC, Regal, and Cinemark, the largest theatre companies in the country, saw their stocks plummet. (AMC, nearly five billion dollars in debt, was rumored to be considering bankruptcy.) Movies themselves are stuck in the pipeline, too: the release of “No Time to Die,” the new James Bond film, has been postponed until November, and the première of Christopher Nolan’s “Tenet” has been pushed twice, and is now scheduled for August 12th. The big chains, trailing the films, have pushed their reopenings (masks required) to late July.
If theatres were to die, one could still blame it on smaller screens—more specifically, streaming services, which help explain a decline in movie attendance that long predates the pandemic. (Last year, there were 1.24 billion tickets sold in North America, representing a twenty-per-cent drop from the box-office peak, in 2002.) Instead of waiting for theatres to reopen, Universal Pictures released “Trolls World Tour”—a sequel to its 2016 movie “Trolls”—on demand, in April, and saw nearly a hundred million dollars in revenue within three weeks of its release, more than the original “Trolls” generated during its five-month theatre run. Afterward, Universal announced that it was exploring the possibility of releasing all future movies—even the post-COVID-19 ones—in theatres and on streaming services simultaneously. AMC, in retaliation, announced that it would ban Universal movies in its theatres.
Art-house theatres are less flustered about “Trolls World Tour.” They worry instead about the difficulties of making rent, and the prospect of having to disband their close-knit teams—in March, A.F.S. laid off nine full-time employees. But these theatres also have more flexibility than a commercial chain. During the pandemic, many independent cinemas have opted for virtual screening platforms, on which viewers can stream indie films for a ticket price that goes partially to the local theatre. Some are selling curbside concessions. The Belcourt, in Nashville, has hosted watch parties on the streaming platform Twitch. A group of theatres in Pennsylvania came up with a digital “Family Feud”-style game called Reel Rumble, which pits cinema staffers against one another to answer movie-trivia questions supplied by their audiences.
Art houses are often nonprofits, and their audiences tend to be loyal; both of these qualities can come in handy during a crisis. In late March, the Criterion Collection and Janus Films launched a crowdsourced fund-raising campaign to provide financial relief to the hundred and eighty-four independent cinemas that had temporarily closed for the pandemic. The campaign raised more than eight hundred thousand dollars, with contributions from Linklater, Lulu Wang, Barry Jenkins, John Waters, and other filmmakers. Alison Kozberg, the administrator of the campaign, said that whether small theatres can survive—even with this influx of donations—depends on what burdens each one. “Do they have reserve?” she asked. “Do they own their building? Are they paying down debt? Do they have a forgiving landlord? All of those things are going to be tremendously impactful.”


newyorker--2020-07-18--John Lewis’s Legacy and America’s Redemption

John Robert Lewis was born in 1940 near the Black Belt town of Troy , Alabama .
His parents were sharecroppers , and he grew up spending Sundays with a great-grandfather who was born into slavery , and hearing about the lynchings of Black men and women that were still a commonplace in the region .
When Lewis was a few months old , the manager of a chicken farm named Jesse Thornton was lynched about twenty miles down the road , in the town of Luverne .
His offense was referring to a police officer by his first name @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mob pursued Thornton , stoned and shot him , then dumped his body in a swamp ; it was found , a week later , surrounded by vultures .
These stories , and the realities of Jim Crow-era segregation , prompted Lewis to become an American dissident .
Steeped in the teachings of his church and the radio sermons of Martin Luther King , Jr. , he left home for Nashville , to study theology and the tactics of nonviolent resistance .
King teased him as “ the boy from Troy , ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the movement .
In a long career as an activist , Lewis was arrested forty-five times and beaten repeatedly by the police and by white supremacists , most famously in Selma , on March 7 , 1965—Bloody Sunday—when he helped lead six hundred people marching for voting rights .
After they had peacefully crossed a bridge , Alabama troopers attacked , using tear gas , clubs , and bullwhips .
Within moments of their charge , Lewis lay unconscious , his skull fractured .
He later said , “ I thought I was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ this country , seeming progress is derailed , reversed , or overwhelmed .
Bloody Sunday led directly to the passage of the Voting Rights Act––and yet suppressing the Black vote is a pillar of today ’ s Republican Party strategy .
The election of the first African-American President was followed by a bigot running for election , and now reëlection , on a platform of racism and resentment .
The murder of Jesse Thornton has its echoes in the murders of George Floyd , Breonna Taylor , and many others .
Indeed , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Lewis nearly lost his life is named in honor of Edmund Pettus , a U.S. senator who was a Confederate officer and a Grand Dragon of the Alabama Ku Klux Klan .
And so there were times when Lewis , who died on Friday , at the age of eighty , might have felt the temptation at times to give up , to give way .
But it was probably his most salient characteristic that he always refused despair ; with open eyes , he acknowledged the darkest chapters of American history yet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Recently , he took part in a Zoom town hall with Barack Obama and a group of activists , and told them that he had been inspired by the weeks of demonstrations for racial justice across the country .
The protesters , he said , will “ redeem the soul of America and move closer to a community at peace with itself.
” Dissent is an essential component of the American story and the American future .
In that spirit , next week ’ s issue of The New Yorker will feature Profiles @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and poetry from the archives on this theme .
Some of the figures written about here were dissenters in the public arena , like Dr. King , Margaret Fuller , and Cesar Chavez , who set out to battle the established order of racism , misogyny , and exploitation .
Others were artists , like Langston Hughes and Toni Morrison , who provide the vision and the language to understand our predicament and , perhaps , to help transform it .
And then there are those , like the scientist James Hansen , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ validity of fact , when willful ignorance can lead to the catastrophic warming of the planet—or to the spread of a deadly virus .
All of them persevered against countless obstacles even as they knew they might not live to see their most fundamental struggles concluded .
♦

John Robert Lewis was born in 1940 near the Black Belt town of Troy, Alabama. His parents were sharecroppers, and he grew up spending Sundays with a great-grandfather who was born into slavery, and hearing about the lynchings of Black men and women that were still a commonplace in the region. When Lewis was a few months old, the manager of a chicken farm named Jesse Thornton was lynched about twenty miles down the road, in the town of Luverne. His offense was referring to a police officer by his first name, not as “Mister.” A mob pursued Thornton, stoned and shot him, then dumped his body in a swamp; it was found, a week later, surrounded by vultures.
These stories, and the realities of Jim Crow-era segregation, prompted Lewis to become an American dissident. Steeped in the teachings of his church and the radio sermons of Martin Luther King, Jr., he left home for Nashville, to study theology and the tactics of nonviolent resistance. King teased him as “the boy from Troy,” the youngest face at the forefront of the movement. In a long career as an activist, Lewis was arrested forty-five times and beaten repeatedly by the police and by white supremacists, most famously in Selma, on March 7, 1965—Bloody Sunday—when he helped lead six hundred people marching for voting rights. After they had peacefully crossed a bridge, Alabama troopers attacked, using tear gas, clubs, and bullwhips. Within moments of their charge, Lewis lay unconscious, his skull fractured. He later said, “I thought I was going to die.”
Too often in this country, seeming progress is derailed, reversed, or overwhelmed. Bloody Sunday led directly to the passage of the Voting Rights Act––and yet suppressing the Black vote is a pillar of today’s Republican Party strategy. The election of the first African-American President was followed by a bigot running for election, and now reëlection, on a platform of racism and resentment. The murder of Jesse Thornton has its echoes in the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and many others. Indeed, to this day, the bridge where Lewis nearly lost his life is named in honor of Edmund Pettus, a U.S. senator who was a Confederate officer and a Grand Dragon of the Alabama Ku Klux Klan.
And so there were times when Lewis, who died on Friday, at the age of eighty, might have felt the temptation at times to give up, to give way. But it was probably his most salient characteristic that he always refused despair; with open eyes, he acknowledged the darkest chapters of American history yet insisted that change was always possible. Recently, he took part in a Zoom town hall with Barack Obama and a group of activists, and told them that he had been inspired by the weeks of demonstrations for racial justice across the country. The protesters, he said, will “redeem the soul of America and move closer to a community at peace with itself.”
Dissent is an essential component of the American story and the American future. In that spirit, next week’s issue of The New Yorker will feature Profiles, reporting, essays, fiction, and poetry from the archives on this theme. Some of the figures written about here were dissenters in the public arena, like Dr. King, Margaret Fuller, and Cesar Chavez, who set out to battle the established order of racism, misogyny, and exploitation. Others were artists, like Langston Hughes and Toni Morrison, who provide the vision and the language to understand our predicament and, perhaps, to help transform it. And then there are those, like the scientist James Hansen, whose bravery is to insist on the validity of fact, when willful ignorance can lead to the catastrophic warming of the planet—or to the spread of a deadly virus. All of them persevered against countless obstacles even as they knew they might not live to see their most fundamental struggles concluded. ♦


newyorker--2020-07-18--Ben Bernanke and Janet Yellen Give Republicans in Congress a Lesson on Coronavirus Economics

It was no real surprise to see Ben Bernanke and Janet Yellen , the past two chairs of the Federal Reserve , testifying to Congress on Friday about the economic-policy response to the coronavirus pandemic .
Although neither of them has appeared before a congressional committee since leaving the Fed , they have both emerged in recent months as vocal supporters of using monetary and fiscal policy aggressively to support the stricken economy .
Last month , they signed a public letter from more than a hundred and fifty economists that called on Congress to pass another big spending bill @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Relief , and Economic Security ( CARES ) Act , which was enacted in March .
There is no time to lose .
About this time next week , the supplementary unemployment benefits of six hundred dollars a week that were introduced as part of the CARES Act will start to expire .
If Congress doesn ’ t extend the benefits , this will have a hugely negative impact on the roughly thirty-three million Americans who are out of work and claiming benefits from local or federal programs .
Many of these @ @ @ @ @ @ @ no fault of their own , will be plunged into poverty , and the damage won ’ t end there .
As they cut back on spending because their income has been slashed , the effects will ripple through the rest of the economy , causing further job losses .
Exactly how many more jobs will go is difficult to say in advance , but Harvard ’ s Jason Furman , who headed the White House Council of Economic Advisers during the second term of the Obama Administration , recently estimated that over @ @ @ @ @ @ @ could be around two million .
Appearing at the hearing of a coronavirus subcommittee that was set up by the House Committee on Oversight and Reform , Bernanke and Yellen didn ’ t get into that level of detail .
Drawing on some basic economics and their experiences dealing with a previous crisis—the Great Recession and its aftermath—they did persuasively explain why Congress should act urgently on three fronts : extending the supplementary unemployment payments ; providing additional financial support to state and local governments ; and developing a comprehensive plan to make @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and contact tracing .
The two former policymakers , who are both highly regarded academic economists , also pushed back against recent suggestions from the White House that the new spending should be limited to a trillion dollars .
Yellen said it was hard to tell precisely how much financial support might be needed , so it would be unwise to impose a spending cap .
Bernanke said , “ Whatever it takes is probably what we need to be thinking now.
” Bernanke also pointed to recent signs of stalling in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ over the past couple of months , as many states saw case numbers rise .
But some Republican members of the subcommittee seemed less interested in debating what measures were needed to boost the economy than in scoring political points .
“ What ’ s more important : reopening schools or protesting ?
” Representative Jim Jordan , of Ohio , asked Bernanke .
The former Fed chairman , who was nominated by President George W. Bush , in 2005 , replied that both were important , but he wisely refused to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ reopen schools .
A number of the Republicans on the committee expressed frustration at the fact that , because of the enhanced unemployment benefits , some jobless Americans are currently receiving more income than they were when they were employed .
Representative Blaine Luetkemeyer , of Missouri , said this was a disincentive for people to take jobs .
Bernanke agreed that this could be an issue ; he also pointed out that it could be dealt with by restructuring the benefits or giving extra tax credits to people who return to work @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the subcommittee , Bernanke and Yellen said that the supplementary unemployment payments should be maintained until the jobless rate fell to a more normal level .
Yellen , whom President Barack Obama nominated to succeed Bernanke , in 2013 , stressed the need to provide federal support for states and municipalities that have seen their tax revenues fall drastically at the same time that their spending needs , on things like health care and relief programs , have risen sharply .
Because many states have a limited capacity to borrow money and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pressure to slash spending and cut payrolls .
“ If there isn ’ t substantial support there , we are going to see massive layoffs in state and local governments , ” Yellen warned .
Like Bernanke , Yellen tried to avoid being drawn into partisan conflicts .
But that didn ’ t prevent her from expressing skepticism about the notion that promoting a vigorous economic recovery and taking strenuous measures to contain the virus are in conflict .
“ There ’ s not much of a trade-off , ” she said .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ and elsewhere that took decisive measures to contain the virus , and which are now in a strong position to reopen their economies .
With a nod to the increasingly alarming situation in many parts of this country , she added , “ It is very expensive to have to shut down again.
” The two former Fed chairs also addressed concerns about the red ink that the federal government is running up in responding to the pandemic .
( In June , the budget deficit hit a monthly record of $ 864 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ believe that concerns about the deficit and debt should prevent the Congress from responding robustly to this emergency , ” Yellen said .
“ The top priorities at this time should be protecting our citizens from the pandemic and pursuing a stronger and equitable economic recovery.
” Bernanke pointed out that , thanks to record-low interest rates and strong demand for Treasury bonds from domestic and international investors , the U.S. government is in the fortunate position of being able to finance large deficits cheaply .
“ It ’ s an opportunity to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , to do something to help our economy recover , ” he said .
We ’ ll find out soon if the Trump Administration and Republicans in Congress take this sound advice .
• The coronavirus vaccine is on track to be the fastest ever developed .
• What the coronavirus has revealed about American medicine .
• Recommendations for maintaining social distancing as the U.S. reopens , from socializing and using public bathrooms to wearing masks .
• Why remote work is so hard—and how it can be fixed .
• Seattle @ @ @ @ @ @ @ responding to the coronavirus .
New York leaders did not .
• The long crusade of Dr. Anthony Fauci , the infectious-disease expert pinned between Donald Trump and the American people .
• What to read , watch , cook , and listen to under quarantine .

It was no real surprise to see Ben Bernanke and Janet Yellen, the past two chairs of the Federal Reserve, testifying to Congress on Friday about the economic-policy response to the coronavirus pandemic. Although neither of them has appeared before a congressional committee since leaving the Fed, they have both emerged in recent months as vocal supporters of using monetary and fiscal policy aggressively to support the stricken economy. Last month, they signed a public letter from more than a hundred and fifty economists that called on Congress to pass another big spending bill to extend and broaden the Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act, which was enacted in March.
There is no time to lose. About this time next week, the supplementary unemployment benefits of six hundred dollars a week that were introduced as part of the CARES Act will start to expire. If Congress doesn’t extend the benefits, this will have a hugely negative impact on the roughly thirty-three million Americans who are out of work and claiming benefits from local or federal programs. Many of these people, who lost their jobs through no fault of their own, will be plunged into poverty, and the damage won’t end there. As they cut back on spending because their income has been slashed, the effects will ripple through the rest of the economy, causing further job losses. Exactly how many more jobs will go is difficult to say in advance, but Harvard’s Jason Furman, who headed the White House Council of Economic Advisers during the second term of the Obama Administration, recently estimated that over the course of the next year it could be around two million.
Appearing at the hearing of a coronavirus subcommittee that was set up by the House Committee on Oversight and Reform, Bernanke and Yellen didn’t get into that level of detail. Drawing on some basic economics and their experiences dealing with a previous crisis—the Great Recession and its aftermath—they did persuasively explain why Congress should act urgently on three fronts: extending the supplementary unemployment payments; providing additional financial support to state and local governments; and developing a comprehensive plan to make available adequate testing, medical equipment, and contact tracing. The two former policymakers, who are both highly regarded academic economists, also pushed back against recent suggestions from the White House that the new spending should be limited to a trillion dollars. Yellen said it was hard to tell precisely how much financial support might be needed, so it would be unwise to impose a spending cap. Bernanke said, “Whatever it takes is probably what we need to be thinking now.”
Bernanke also pointed to recent signs of stalling in the economic rebound that we’ve seen over the past couple of months, as many states saw case numbers rise. But some Republican members of the subcommittee seemed less interested in debating what measures were needed to boost the economy than in scoring political points. “What’s more important: reopening schools or protesting?” Representative Jim Jordan, of Ohio, asked Bernanke. The former Fed chairman, who was nominated by President George W. Bush, in 2005, replied that both were important, but he wisely refused to be drawn into the debate about whether to reopen schools.
A number of the Republicans on the committee expressed frustration at the fact that, because of the enhanced unemployment benefits, some jobless Americans are currently receiving more income than they were when they were employed. Representative Blaine Luetkemeyer, of Missouri, said this was a disincentive for people to take jobs. Bernanke agreed that this could be an issue; he also pointed out that it could be dealt with by restructuring the benefits or giving extra tax credits to people who return to work. In a joint statement they submitted to the subcommittee, Bernanke and Yellen said that the supplementary unemployment payments should be maintained until the jobless rate fell to a more normal level.
Yellen, whom President Barack Obama nominated to succeed Bernanke, in 2013, stressed the need to provide federal support for states and municipalities that have seen their tax revenues fall drastically at the same time that their spending needs, on things like health care and relief programs, have risen sharply. Because many states have a limited capacity to borrow money and run deficits, they are coming under pressure to slash spending and cut payrolls. “If there isn’t substantial support there, we are going to see massive layoffs in state and local governments,” Yellen warned.
Like Bernanke, Yellen tried to avoid being drawn into partisan conflicts. But that didn’t prevent her from expressing skepticism about the notion that promoting a vigorous economic recovery and taking strenuous measures to contain the virus are in conflict. “There’s not much of a trade-off,” she said. Then she pointed to countries in Europe and elsewhere that took decisive measures to contain the virus, and which are now in a strong position to reopen their economies. With a nod to the increasingly alarming situation in many parts of this country, she added, “It is very expensive to have to shut down again.”
The two former Fed chairs also addressed concerns about the red ink that the federal government is running up in responding to the pandemic. (In June, the budget deficit hit a monthly record of $864 billion.) “We do not believe that concerns about the deficit and debt should prevent the Congress from responding robustly to this emergency,” Yellen said. “The top priorities at this time should be protecting our citizens from the pandemic and pursuing a stronger and equitable economic recovery.” Bernanke pointed out that, thanks to record-low interest rates and strong demand for Treasury bonds from domestic and international investors, the U.S. government is in the fortunate position of being able to finance large deficits cheaply. “It’s an opportunity to take advantage of our ability to borrow, to do something to help our economy recover,” he said. We’ll find out soon if the Trump Administration and Republicans in Congress take this sound advice.
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-07-18--Trump Replaces Mary Trump with Kayleigh McEnany as Niece

WASHINGTON ( The Borowitz Report ) —In the latest shakeup in his inner circle , Donald Trump has named the @ @ @ @ @ Kayleigh McEnany , to the position of niece , replacing Mary Trump , effective immediately @ @ @ @ @ a half months to go until the election , replacing family members could be seen @ @ @ @ @ , political insiders said .
But , according to a White House source , the @ @ @ @ @ with McEnany was a “ no-brainer.
” “ The President wanted a niece who could @ @ @ @ @ has proven every day that she can do that , ” the source said .
@ @ @ @ @ role as press secretary in addition to niece , and will refer to Trump as @ @ @ @ @ for Mary Trump , she will remain a member of the Trump family , but @ @ @ @ @ to third cousin .

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—In the latest shakeup in his inner circle, Donald Trump has named the White House press secretary, Kayleigh McEnany, to the position of niece, replacing Mary Trump, effective immediately.
With only three and a half months to go until the election, replacing family members could be seen as a sign of desperation, political insiders said.
But, according to a White House source, the decision to replace Mary Trump with McEnany was a “no-brainer.”
“The President wanted a niece who could rewrite history, and Kayleigh has proven every day that she can do that,” the source said.
McEnany will continue in her role as press secretary in addition to niece, and will refer to Trump as “Uncle President.”
As for Mary Trump, she will remain a member of the Trump family, but has been demoted from niece to third cousin.


newyorker--2020-07-19--Sunday Reading: Manhattan Sketches

Sunday Reading: Manhattan Sketches

New York has always been a city in transition .
In 1939 , Joseph Mitchell published a piece in The New Yorker about one of his favorite watering holes , Dick ’ s Bar and Grill .
“ Obituary of a Gin Mill ” is his nostalgic homage to the old bar that he loved—before it reopened under a new guise , in a new location , and lost some of its grubby charm .
For Mitchell , the saloon was more than a favorite haunt ; with its curmudgeonly management and eccentric patrons , it felt like home .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Mitchell excelled at bringing the city to life through his detailed reporting .
His Manhattan character sketches offer a series of intricate , revelatory glimpses of the city .
This week , we ’ re bringing you his piece and a selection of others that showcase city life in its many dimensions .
In “ Charles Mingus at Peace , ” Whitney Balliett profiles the jazz legend and joins him at some of his preferred city haunts .
( “ Mingus , the incomparable forty-nine-year-old bassist , composer , bandleader , autobiographer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of his life attempting to rearrange the world according to an almost Johnsonian set of principles that abhor , among other things , cant , racism , inhibition , managerial greed , sloppy music , Uncle Tomism , and conformity.
” ) Janet Flanner writes about the novelist Edith Wharton and her portraits of New York society , and Robert A. Caro chronicles the extraordinary ascent of the urban planner Robert Moses .
In “ Moving On , a Love Story , ” Nora Ephron recounts her devotion to the Apthorp , a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I had never planned to live on the Upper West Side , but after a few weeks I couldn ’ t imagine living anywhere else , and I began , in my manner , to make a religion out of my neighborhood.
” ) In “ All Mixed Up , ” Susan Orlean observes the habitués of a dynamic grocery store in Queens .
In “ The Chicken Vanishes , ” Calvin Trillin delves into the mystery behind the disappearance of a chicken in Chinatown that plays ticktacktoe .
Hendrik Hertzberg visits John @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Village apartment , and Frank McCourt recalls his early days as an expat patronizing Irish bars around the city .
In “ Revealing and Obscuring Myself on the Streets of New York , ” Hilton Als contemplates his life as a writer in the city and describes his recent move to a new neighborhood .
( “ We are Manhattanites and preoccupied by our lives in Manhattan .
Sometimes Love stays for the night , and other nights Love cooks meals.
” ) In “ Red Mittens !
, ” Lillian Ross reports @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on the Upper East Side , in the style of Tom Wolfe .
Finally , in “ Rockefeller Center , Ho !
, ” John Updike makes the trek from the Empire State Building to Rockefeller Center , all without setting foot on Fifth or Sixth Avenue .
Taken together , these pieces celebrate the collective character of New York and its many residents .
Sometimes , leaning against the spick-and-span new bar , I am overcome by nostalgia for the gutter .
“ My book was written for black people , to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” Mingus said .
The inner and outer voyages of Edith Wharton .
How Robert Moses got things done .
To move into the Apthorp was to enter a state of giddy , rent-stabilized delirium .
All kinds of people from all over the world come to live in Jackson Heights .
But who taught it to play ticktacktoe ?
Finally , the mystery is solved .
Why John and Yoko love New York .
I walk through my neighborhood dealing with personal stuff , including learning how to physically and mentally @ @ @ @ @ @ @ feel that my “ I ” should exist at all .
Only our own footsteps made noise .

Photograph by Gary Hershorn / Getty
New York has always been a city in transition. In 1939, Joseph Mitchell published a piece in The New Yorker about one of his favorite watering holes, Dick’s Bar and Grill. “Obituary of a Gin Mill” is his nostalgic homage to the old bar that he loved—before it reopened under a new guise, in a new location, and lost some of its grubby charm. For Mitchell, the saloon was more than a favorite haunt; with its curmudgeonly management and eccentric patrons, it felt like home. During his decades at The New Yorker, Mitchell excelled at bringing the city to life through his detailed reporting. His Manhattan character sketches offer a series of intricate, revelatory glimpses of the city. This week, we’re bringing you his piece and a selection of others that showcase city life in its many dimensions. In “Charles Mingus at Peace,” Whitney Balliett profiles the jazz legend and joins him at some of his preferred city haunts. (“Mingus, the incomparable forty-nine-year-old bassist, composer, bandleader, autobiographer, and iconoclast, has spent much of his life attempting to rearrange the world according to an almost Johnsonian set of principles that abhor, among other things, cant, racism, inhibition, managerial greed, sloppy music, Uncle Tomism, and conformity.”) Janet Flanner writes about the novelist Edith Wharton and her portraits of New York society, and Robert A. Caro chronicles the extraordinary ascent of the urban planner Robert Moses. In “Moving On, a Love Story,” Nora Ephron recounts her devotion to the Apthorp, a celebrated uptown Beaux-Arts building. (“I had never planned to live on the Upper West Side, but after a few weeks I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, and I began, in my manner, to make a religion out of my neighborhood.”) In “All Mixed Up,” Susan Orlean observes the habitués of a dynamic grocery store in Queens. In “The Chicken Vanishes,” Calvin Trillin delves into the mystery behind the disappearance of a chicken in Chinatown that plays ticktacktoe. Hendrik Hertzberg visits John Lennon and Yoko Ono in their West Village apartment, and Frank McCourt recalls his early days as an expat patronizing Irish bars around the city. In “Revealing and Obscuring Myself on the Streets of New York,” Hilton Als contemplates his life as a writer in the city and describes his recent move to a new neighborhood. (“We are Manhattanites and preoccupied by our lives in Manhattan. Sometimes Love stays for the night, and other nights Love cooks meals.”) In “Red Mittens!,” Lillian Ross reports on the activities of the kindergarten set on the Upper East Side, in the style of Tom Wolfe. Finally, in “Rockefeller Center, Ho!,” John Updike makes the trek from the Empire State Building to Rockefeller Center, all without setting foot on Fifth or Sixth Avenue. Taken together, these pieces celebrate the collective character of New York and its many residents.
— Erin Overbey, archive editor
Photograph by Margaret Bourke-White / The LIFE Picture Collection / Getty
Sometimes, leaning against the spick-and-span new bar, I am overcome by nostalgia for the gutter.
“My book was written for black people, to tell them how to get through life,” Mingus said.
The inner and outer voyages of Edith Wharton.
Illustration by Saul Steinberg
How Robert Moses got things done.
Illustration by Arnold Roth
To move into the Apthorp was to enter a state of giddy, rent-stabilized delirium.
All kinds of people from all over the world come to live in Jackson Heights.
But who taught it to play ticktacktoe? Finally, the mystery is solved.
Why John and Yoko love New York.
The initiation of a young Irishman.
Illustration by Brian Stauffer
I walk through my neighborhood dealing with personal stuff, including learning how to physically and mentally defend myself against those who do not feel that my “I” should exist at all.
Photograph by H. Armstrong Roberts / Getty
Pre-school style at Central Park.
Photograph from Getty
Only our own footsteps made noise.