newyorker--2020-03-30--Reality Has Endorsed Bernie Sanders

Reality Has Endorsed Bernie Sanders

The debate over the role of government in addressing income inequality , housing insecurity , debt accumulation , and health care continues , now against the grim backdrop of the raging coronavirus .
It is difficult to articulate the speed with which the U.S. and , indeed , the world , has descended into an existential crisis .
We are experiencing an unprecedented public-health event whose diminution and potential resolution rests with a series of prescriptions , including settlement-in-place orders , that will annihilate the economy .
The deadly spread of COVID-19 demands enclosure as a way to starve the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The consequences of doing so removes workers from work and consumers from consumption ; no economy can operate under these conditions .
American life has been suddenly and dramatically upended , and , when things are turned upside down , the bottom is brought to the surface and exposed to the light .
In 2005 , when Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath ravaged the Gulf Coast , it , too , provided a deeper look into the darkness of U.S. inequality .
As the actor Danny Glover said then , “ When the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rose and tore through New Orleans , plunging its remaining population into a carnival of misery , it did not turn the region into a Third World country , as it has been disparagingly implied in the media ; it revealed one .
It revealed the disaster within the disaster ; gruelling poverty rose to the surface like a bruise to our skin.
” For years , the United States has gotten away with persistently chipping away at its weak welfare state by hiding or demonizing the populations most dependent on it .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ and inept , unable to cash in on the riches of American society .
There are more than forty million poor people in the U.S. , but they almost never merit a mention .
While black poverty is presented as exemplary , white poverty is obscured , and Latinos and other brown people ’ s experiences are ignored .
As many as four in five Americans say they live paycheck to paycheck .
Forty per cent of Americans say that they can not cover an unexpected four-hundred-dollar emergency expense .
This is a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of American poverty .
For years now , even in the midst of the economic recovery from the 2008 financial crisis , rising rents and stagnant salaries and wages have forced millions of families to improvise housing ; nearly four million households live in overcrowded homes .
This is the cruel irony of the San Francisco Bay Area ’ s shelter-in-place mandate : the region is at the epicenter of the U.S. housing crisis , as exemplified by its growing unsheltered homeless population .
How do you practice social isolation without privacy or @ @ @ @ @ @ @ public offices that poor people congregate in to navigate access to services and income .
There are the emergency rooms that function as primary health-care providers—not to mention the county jails and state prisons .
Economic inequality is exacerbated by racial injustice , both held in place by a threadbare social-safety net .
Black and brown populations are particularly vulnerable to infection because poverty is a fount of underlying conditions , such as diabetes , hypertension , pulmonary disease , and heart disease , that make it more likely that the virus will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ vulnerable because greater rates of poverty and under-employment have hindered access to health care .
In Milwaukee , the most segregated city in the U.S. , where black unemployment is four times the rate of white unemployment , the majority of diagnosed coronavirus cases are middle-aged black men .
And as anyone who has ever had to wonder how they will make their rent payment knows , the stress of economic uncertainty is corrosive , eating into the capability of the immune system .
But the danger of contracting the coronavirus will hardly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ working class alone .
Those who , because of poverty and insecurity , are most vulnerable to infection also have disproportionate contact with the broader public , through their low-wage retail and service work .
Consider the plight of the home health-care worker .
Millions of such workers attend to a largely elderly and homebound population for meagre hourly wages and often without health insurance .
In 2018 , home health-care workers , eighty-seven per cent of whom are women and sixty per cent of whom are black or Latino , made an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ cents an hour .
These workers are the sinews of our society : they must work to insure that our society continues to function , even as that work poses potential threats to their clients and the general public .
Their insecurity , combined with the failure of meaningful action by the federal government , will make the suppression of the virus nearly impossible .
Thus far , the Trump Administration has predictably bungled the response to the coronavirus .
But the Democratic Party ’ s response has been hampered by its shared @ @ @ @ @ @ @ state , through the advance of vast universal programs , to attend to an unprecedented , devolving catastrophe .
About half of American workers receive health insurance through their employer .
As job losses mount , millions of workers will lose their insurance while the public-health crisis surges .
In the last Democratic debate , former Vice-President Joe Biden insisted that the U.S. doesn ’ t need single-payer health care because the severity of the coronavirus outbreak in Italy proved that it doesn ’ t work .
Strangely , he simultaneously insisted that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ should be free because we are in crisis .
This insistence that health care should only be free in an emergency reveals a profound ignorance about the ways that preventive medicine can mitigate the harshest effects of an acute infection .
By mid-February , a Chinese government study of that country ’ s coronavirus-related deaths found that those with preëxisting conditions accounted for at least a third of all COVID-19 fatalities .
Dismissing the necessity of universal health care also shows an obliviousness to the power of medical expenses to alter the course @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Americans who file for bankruptcy say that medical debt or losing work while they were sick contributed to their need to do so .
The costs of medical treatment become a reason for postponing visits to the doctor .
A 2018 poll found that forty-four per cent of Americans delayed seeing a doctor due to its cost .
Already , half of Americans polled have said that they worry about the costs of the testing and treatment of COVID-19 .
In a situation like the one we are in , it becomes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ access to health care exacerbates a public-health breakdown .
N.B.A .
players , celebrities , and the wealthy have access to the coronavirus test , but attending nurses and frontline health-care workers , community health centers , and public hospitals do not .
Health-care inequalities are problems that have been left unattended , creating so many small , imperceptible fractures that , in the midst of a full-scale crisis , the structure is collapsing , shattering under its own weight .
The case has never been clearer for a transition to Medicare for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Democratic Party ’ s decades-long hostility to funding the social-welfare state .
At the heart of this resistance is the pernicious glorification of “ personal responsibility , ” through which success or failure in life is seen as an expression of personal fortitude or personal laxity .
The American Dream , we are told , is anchored in the promise of unfettered social mobility , a destiny driven by self-determination and perseverance .
This ingrained thinking evades the fact that it was the New Deal , in the nineteen-thirties , and the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , that , through a combination of federal work programs , subsidies , and government-backed guarantees , created a middle-class life style for millions of white Americans .
In the nineteen-sixties , as a result of prolonged black protest , Lyndon Johnson authored the War on Poverty and other Great Society programs , which were intended to lessen the impact of decades of racial discrimination in jobs , housing , and education .
By 1969 , with Richard Nixon at the helm , during an economic downturn that ended what was then the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the conservatives attacked the notion of the “ social contract ” embedded in all of these programs , claiming that they rewarded laziness and were evidence of special rights for some .
When Nixon ran for reëlection , in 1972 , he claimed that his campaign pitted the “ work ethic ” against the “ welfare ethic .
”

The debate over the role of government in addressing income inequality, housing insecurity, debt accumulation, and health care continues, now against the grim backdrop of the raging coronavirus. It is difficult to articulate the speed with which the U.S. and, indeed, the world, has descended into an existential crisis. We are experiencing an unprecedented public-health event whose diminution and potential resolution rests with a series of prescriptions, including settlement-in-place orders, that will annihilate the economy. The deadly spread of COVID-19 demands enclosure as a way to starve the searching virus of bodies to inhabit. The consequences of doing so removes workers from work and consumers from consumption; no economy can operate under these conditions.
American life has been suddenly and dramatically upended, and, when things are turned upside down, the bottom is brought to the surface and exposed to the light. In 2005, when Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath ravaged the Gulf Coast, it, too, provided a deeper look into the darkness of U.S. inequality. As the actor Danny Glover said then, “When the hurricane struck the Gulf and the floodwaters rose and tore through New Orleans, plunging its remaining population into a carnival of misery, it did not turn the region into a Third World country, as it has been disparagingly implied in the media; it revealed one. It revealed the disaster within the disaster; gruelling poverty rose to the surface like a bruise to our skin.”
For years, the United States has gotten away with persistently chipping away at its weak welfare state by hiding or demonizing the populations most dependent on it. The poor are relegated as socially dysfunctional and inept, unable to cash in on the riches of American society. There are more than forty million poor people in the U.S., but they almost never merit a mention. While black poverty is presented as exemplary, white poverty is obscured, and Latinos and other brown people’s experiences are ignored. As many as four in five Americans say they live paycheck to paycheck. Forty per cent of Americans say that they cannot cover an unexpected four-hundred-dollar emergency expense.
This is a virus that will thrive in the intimacy of American poverty. For years now, even in the midst of the economic recovery from the 2008 financial crisis, rising rents and stagnant salaries and wages have forced millions of families to improvise housing; nearly four million households live in overcrowded homes. This is the cruel irony of the San Francisco Bay Area’s shelter-in-place mandate: the region is at the epicenter of the U.S. housing crisis, as exemplified by its growing unsheltered homeless population. How do you practice social isolation without privacy or personal space? There are the crowded public offices that poor people congregate in to navigate access to services and income. There are the emergency rooms that function as primary health-care providers—not to mention the county jails and state prisons.
Economic inequality is exacerbated by racial injustice, both held in place by a threadbare social-safety net. Black and brown populations are particularly vulnerable to infection because poverty is a fount of underlying conditions, such as diabetes, hypertension, pulmonary disease, and heart disease, that make it more likely that the virus will be deadly. They are also more vulnerable because greater rates of poverty and under-employment have hindered access to health care. In Milwaukee, the most segregated city in the U.S., where black unemployment is four times the rate of white unemployment, the majority of diagnosed coronavirus cases are middle-aged black men. And as anyone who has ever had to wonder how they will make their rent payment knows, the stress of economic uncertainty is corrosive, eating into the capability of the immune system.
But the danger of contracting the coronavirus will hardly be the problem of the poor and working class alone. Those who, because of poverty and insecurity, are most vulnerable to infection also have disproportionate contact with the broader public, through their low-wage retail and service work. Consider the plight of the home health-care worker. Millions of such workers attend to a largely elderly and homebound population for meagre hourly wages and often without health insurance. In 2018, home health-care workers, eighty-seven per cent of whom are women and sixty per cent of whom are black or Latino, made an average of about eleven dollars and fifty cents an hour. These workers are the sinews of our society: they must work to insure that our society continues to function, even as that work poses potential threats to their clients and the general public. Their insecurity, combined with the failure of meaningful action by the federal government, will make the suppression of the virus nearly impossible.
Thus far, the Trump Administration has predictably bungled the response to the coronavirus. But the Democratic Party’s response has been hampered by its shared hostility to unleashing the power of the state, through the advance of vast universal programs, to attend to an unprecedented, devolving catastrophe. About half of American workers receive health insurance through their employer. As job losses mount, millions of workers will lose their insurance while the public-health crisis surges. In the last Democratic debate, former Vice-President Joe Biden insisted that the U.S. doesn’t need single-payer health care because the severity of the coronavirus outbreak in Italy proved that it doesn’t work. Strangely, he simultaneously insisted that all testing and treatment of the virus should be free because we are in crisis. This insistence that health care should only be free in an emergency reveals a profound ignorance about the ways that preventive medicine can mitigate the harshest effects of an acute infection. By mid-February, a Chinese government study of that country’s coronavirus-related deaths found that those with preëxisting conditions accounted for at least a third of all COVID-19 fatalities.
Dismissing the necessity of universal health care also shows an obliviousness to the power of medical expenses to alter the course of one’s life. Two-thirds of Americans who file for bankruptcy say that medical debt or losing work while they were sick contributed to their need to do so. The costs of medical treatment become a reason for postponing visits to the doctor. A 2018 poll found that forty-four per cent of Americans delayed seeing a doctor due to its cost. Already, half of Americans polled have said that they worry about the costs of the testing and treatment of COVID-19. In a situation like the one we are in, it becomes easy to see the ways that encumbered access to health care exacerbates a public-health breakdown. N.B.A. players, celebrities, and the wealthy have access to the coronavirus test, but attending nurses and frontline health-care workers, community health centers, and public hospitals do not. Health-care inequalities are problems that have been left unattended, creating so many small, imperceptible fractures that, in the midst of a full-scale crisis, the structure is collapsing, shattering under its own weight.
The case has never been clearer for a transition to Medicare for All, but its achievement clashes with the Democratic Party’s decades-long hostility to funding the social-welfare state. At the heart of this resistance is the pernicious glorification of “personal responsibility,” through which success or failure in life is seen as an expression of personal fortitude or personal laxity. The American Dream, we are told, is anchored in the promise of unfettered social mobility, a destiny driven by self-determination and perseverance. This ingrained thinking evades the fact that it was the New Deal, in the nineteen-thirties, and the G.I. Bill, in the nineteen-forties, that, through a combination of federal work programs, subsidies, and government-backed guarantees, created a middle-class life style for millions of white Americans. In the nineteen-sixties, as a result of prolonged black protest, Lyndon Johnson authored the War on Poverty and other Great Society programs, which were intended to lessen the impact of decades of racial discrimination in jobs, housing, and education. By 1969, with Richard Nixon at the helm, during an economic downturn that ended what was then the longest economic expansion in American history, the conservatives attacked the notion of the “social contract” embedded in all of these programs, claiming that they rewarded laziness and were evidence of special rights for some. When Nixon ran for reëlection, in 1972, he claimed that his campaign pitted the “work ethic” against the “welfare ethic.”
This was an attack not only on public aid and subsidized housing but also on the people using those programs. Republicans successfully tapped into the racial resentments of white suburbanites, who decried “their” tax dollars going to unruly, rioting African-Americans. They resented “forced integration,” “forced busing,” and “the bureaucrats,” as Nixon derisively called the previous Democratic Administrations. It is important to understand that this was not demonization for its own sake or because of some irrational antipathy toward African-Americans. This was about keeping the corporate tax rate low and reëstablishing the profitability of capital in the aftermath of another, longer economic downturn. It is hard for businesses and their political representatives to counsel ordinary workers to do more with less. It was easier to blame welfare queens, welfare cheats, and an oblique, yet black, underclass for the end of these “wasteful” programs. In 1973, Nixon unceremoniously declared an end to the “urban crisis”—the catalyst for much of Johnson’s welfare state. This created the pretext for his gutting of the Office of Economic Opportunity, the office that managed the web of anti-poverty programs created by the War on Poverty.
The eventual defection of ordinary white voters from the Democratic Party to the Republicans meant that the Democrats soon aped the right’s strategy of downplaying the structural roots of inequality while portraying black communities as ultimately responsible for their own hardships. By the end of the nineteen-eighties, the Democratic Party was championing law-and-order politics and harsh, racist attacks on welfare entitlements. In a 1988 column for the Post of Newark, Delaware, titled “Welfare System About to Change,” the then Senator Biden wrote, “We are all too familiar with the stories of welfare mothers driving luxury cars and leading lifestyles that mirror the rich and famous. Whether they are exaggerated or not, these stories underlie a broad social concern that the welfare system has broken down—that it only parcels out welfare checks and does nothing to help the poor find productive jobs.” This statement was hardly extraordinary; it reflected widespread efforts to transform public perceptions of the Democratic Party. By the early nineties, President Bill Clinton was promising to “end welfare as we know it,” which he succeeded in doing by the end of the decade.
This is the historical backdrop to the hypocrisy of U.S. government-spending priorities today. Bipartisan denunciations of big government do not apply to the obscene amounts spent on the military or the maintenance of the nation’s criminal-justice system. The U.S., across all levels of government, spends more than eighty billion dollars annually to operate jails and prisons and to maintain probation and parole. The budget for the U.S. armed forces topped out at a stunning seven hundred and thirty-eight billion dollars for this year alone—more than the next seven largest military budgets in the world. Meanwhile, social-welfare programs—from food stamps to Medicaid, to subsidized and assisted housing, to public schools—are forced to provide on the thinnest margin, triaging crises, rather than actually pulling people out of poverty.
When Bernie Sanders’s critics mocked his platform as just a bunch of “free stuff,” they were drawing on the past forty years of bipartisan consensus about social-welfare benefits and entitlements. They have argued, instead, that competition organized through the market insures more choices and better quality. In fact, the surreality of market logic was on clear display when, on March 13th, Donald Trump held a press conference to discuss the COVID-19 crisis with executives from Walgreens, Target, Walmart, and CVS, and a host of laboratory, research, and medical-device corporations. There were no social-service providers or educators there to discuss the immediate, overwhelming needs of the public.


newyorker--2020-03-30--“Here, the Terrorists Are Inside”: The French Psychiatrist Who Counsels Coronavirus Doctors

Philippe Nuss is the chief of the psychiatric unit for early psychosis at the Saint-Antoine Hospital , in Paris , and a researcher , specializing in the biophysics of schizophrenia , at the Sorbonne .
Since the Bataclan terrorist attacks of 2015 , he has devoted part of his clinical practice to counselling doctors and other carers about the strain of their work .
I heard about Nuss from my brother-in-law , an intensive-care doctor at a clinic in Seine-Saint-Denis , a department just north of Paris .
Every available bed in intensive care is full there ; patients are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Orléans and Rouen .
Five doctors have already died in France of the coronavirus , where yesterday the number of diagnosed cases surpassed forty thousand ; a group of more than six hundred doctors and other medical workers is suing the former Minister of Health and the Prime Minister for “ culpable negligence ” in failing to prepare for the epidemic .
The French health-care system is one of the world ’ s best , but it has suffered under austerity .
Amid a severe shortage of respirators , tests , and—most preventable—masks @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ The means to do their work has been reduced dramatically in recent years , so the carers now are very fragile , ” Nuss told me , over the telephone .
“ Everyone is lost , and everyone is afraid , and they need support.
” Nuss has spoken to around a hundred medical workers—doctors , nurses , nurse ’ s assistants , orderlies—since the beginning of the crisis .
Over the course of these conversations , he has begun to develop what may be one of the most nuanced understandings we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ down upon the people we are counting on to lift up everyone else .
On top of the usual stressors of sleep deprivation , overwork , and guilt , one of the things that make the coronavirus especially difficult for medical workers to manage , from a mental standpoint , is its duration .
“ Yesterday I was with two doctors , ” Nuss said .
“ Both were young , something like thirty .
They said to me , ‘ I know this weekend will be horrible .
Last weekend , we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and , this weekend , we know that people are coming , and we are already exhausted.
’ ” Nuss continued , “ I ’ m seeing negative anticipation , and the impression that the crisis will last too long , with too little means and quickly changing guidelines.
” At one hospital , Nuss encountered a nurse ’ s assistant who refused to wear a mask , to the horror of his colleagues .
When they spoke , the man said that the hospital often assigned him to inconvenient shifts .
When @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the television channels were changing shows around to times that weren ’ t good for him .
Nuss , recognizing signs of psychosis , put the man on medication and suggested that he go on leave , but a médecin du travail—a labor doctor—sent him back to work .
( Nuss ’ s civilian patients have also been having a “ very , very tough ” time , he said , with high rates of relapse—one schizophrenic patient , having heard that Vitamin C was effective against the coronavirus , skipped his medications @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ) At another hospital , earlier in the pandemic , the head of a critical department , managing thirty or forty doctors , was also refusing to wear a mask .
Nuss said , “ The result was that the doctors who wanted to be thought highly of were not wearing masks , and those who did were stigmatized.
” Hell on morale in the best of times , office politics can become crushing in degraded conditions .
“ Many colleagues have told me that it ’ s their last battle , that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ quit the public hospital because it ’ s too unfair to them , ” Nuss said .
To combat burnout at Saint-Antoine , he has asked department heads to force staff to go home immediately after their shifts rather than sticking around to try to help their colleagues .
Doctors are used to performing under intense pressure , but , in countries where the rate of coronavirus infections threatens to outstrip the capacity of the health system , they are confronting ethical quandaries for which nothing in their training prepared them .
Nuss @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the chief of an emergency unit on the phone , who told me , ‘ We will only have one respirator for every two people , so we ’ re trying to come up with a way for them to share it.
’ And it ’ s not easy .
The logistics weren ’ t there.
” Nuss observed , “ These are perfectionists .
You want to be perfect , but you have no ability to be.
” Nuss was on duty at Saint-Antoine on November 13 , 2015 , the night @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a rock concert at the nearby Bataclan theatre .
At one point , a nurse went into a room to tend to a wounded patient , who told her that his wife had been shot right in front of him .
She walked back out of the room , telling Nuss that she was too shaken to continue .
“ She was afraid that she was illegitimate , that the level of care that she was being asked to give was disproportionate to her skills , ” he recalled .
“ I said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to do .
The rest will be taken care of.
’ ” When medical personnel are overwhelmed by the feeling of having to bear the burden of a crisis , he tries to remind them that they are part of a chain of carers .
Perhaps the most anxiety-inducing feature of the coronavirus epidemic is that it adds uncertainty to injury .
In helping , a carer can end up inadvertently hurting herself or others .
“ With the attacks , we knew that the terrorists couldn ’ t come into the place @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ Whereas , here , the terrorists are inside , and we are not comfortable , because we fear for our lives as well.
” • How to practice social distancing , from responding to a sick housemate to the pros and cons of ordering food .
• How people cope and create new customs amid a pandemic .
• What it means to contain and mitigate the coronavirus outbreak .
• How much of the world is likely to be quarantined ?
• Donald Trump in the time of coronavirus .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ for more than a year before a vaccine could be widely available .
• We are all irrational panic shoppers .
• The strange terror of watching the coronavirus take Rome .

Philippe Nuss is the chief of the psychiatric unit for early psychosis at the Saint-Antoine Hospital, in Paris, and a researcher, specializing in the biophysics of schizophrenia, at the Sorbonne. Since the Bataclan terrorist attacks of 2015, he has devoted part of his clinical practice to counselling doctors and other carers about the strain of their work. I heard about Nuss from my brother-in-law, an intensive-care doctor at a clinic in Seine-Saint-Denis, a department just north of Paris. Every available bed in intensive care is full there; patients are now being transferred to the cities of Orléans and Rouen. Five doctors have already died in France of the coronavirus, where yesterday the number of diagnosed cases surpassed forty thousand; a group of more than six hundred doctors and other medical workers is suing the former Minister of Health and the Prime Minister for “culpable negligence” in failing to prepare for the epidemic. The French health-care system is one of the world’s best, but it has suffered under austerity. Amid a severe shortage of respirators, tests, and—most preventable—masks, personnel are underequipped and overstressed. “The means to do their work has been reduced dramatically in recent years, so the carers now are very fragile,” Nuss told me, over the telephone. “Everyone is lost, and everyone is afraid, and they need support.”
Nuss has spoken to around a hundred medical workers—doctors, nurses, nurse’s assistants, orderlies—since the beginning of the crisis. Over the course of these conversations, he has begun to develop what may be one of the most nuanced understandings we have of the pressures that are bearing down upon the people we are counting on to lift up everyone else. On top of the usual stressors of sleep deprivation, overwork, and guilt, one of the things that make the coronavirus especially difficult for medical workers to manage, from a mental standpoint, is its duration. “Yesterday I was with two doctors,” Nuss said. “Both were young, something like thirty. They said to me, ‘I know this weekend will be horrible. Last weekend, we were waiting and no one came, and, this weekend, we know that people are coming, and we are already exhausted.’ ” Nuss continued, “I’m seeing negative anticipation, and the impression that the crisis will last too long, with too little means and quickly changing guidelines.”
At one hospital, Nuss encountered a nurse’s assistant who refused to wear a mask, to the horror of his colleagues. When they spoke, the man said that the hospital often assigned him to inconvenient shifts. When they spoke more, he said that the television channels were changing shows around to times that weren’t good for him. Nuss, recognizing signs of psychosis, put the man on medication and suggested that he go on leave, but a médecin du travail—a labor doctor—sent him back to work. (Nuss’s civilian patients have also been having a “very, very tough” time, he said, with high rates of relapse—one schizophrenic patient, having heard that Vitamin C was effective against the coronavirus, skipped his medications and was eating nothing but oranges.) At another hospital, earlier in the pandemic, the head of a critical department, managing thirty or forty doctors, was also refusing to wear a mask. Nuss said, “The result was that the doctors who wanted to be thought highly of were not wearing masks, and those who did were stigmatized.” Hell on morale in the best of times, office politics can become crushing in degraded conditions. “Many colleagues have told me that it’s their last battle, that, after coronavirus, they’ll quit the public hospital because it’s too unfair to them,” Nuss said. To combat burnout at Saint-Antoine, he has asked department heads to force staff to go home immediately after their shifts rather than sticking around to try to help their colleagues.
Doctors are used to performing under intense pressure, but, in countries where the rate of coronavirus infections threatens to outstrip the capacity of the health system, they are confronting ethical quandaries for which nothing in their training prepared them. Nuss recalled, “Yesterday, I had the chief of an emergency unit on the phone, who told me, ‘We will only have one respirator for every two people, so we’re trying to come up with a way for them to share it.’ And it’s not easy. The logistics weren’t there.” Nuss observed, “These are perfectionists. You want to be perfect, but you have no ability to be.”
Nuss was on duty at Saint-Antoine on November 13, 2015, the night that Islamist terrorists killed ninety people during a rock concert at the nearby Bataclan theatre. At one point, a nurse went into a room to tend to a wounded patient, who told her that his wife had been shot right in front of him. She walked back out of the room, telling Nuss that she was too shaken to continue. “She was afraid that she was illegitimate, that the level of care that she was being asked to give was disproportionate to her skills,” he recalled. “I said, ‘Just manage what you have to do. The rest will be taken care of.’ ” When medical personnel are overwhelmed by the feeling of having to bear the burden of a crisis, he tries to remind them that they are part of a chain of carers. Perhaps the most anxiety-inducing feature of the coronavirus epidemic is that it adds uncertainty to injury. In helping, a carer can end up inadvertently hurting herself or others. “With the attacks, we knew that the terrorists couldn’t come into the place where we were,” Nuss said. “Whereas, here, the terrorists are inside, and we are not comfortable, because we fear for our lives as well.”
More Medical Dispatches


The Coronavirus Election

It ’ s been just more than a month since Donald Trump tweeted for the first time about the coronavirus—saying @ @ @ @ @ the virus did not pose a substantial threat to the United States .
Why did @ @ @ @ @ risks of COVID-19 ?
“ With Trump , sometimes the answer is pretty transparent , @ @ @ @ @ The New Yorker ’ s Washington correspondent , told David Remnick , “ and , @ @ @ @ @ think the answer is pretty transparent .
He didn ’ t want anything to interrupt @ @ @ @ @ entirely hinged on the strength of the U.S. economy.
” Even as the virus spreads @ @ @ @ @ self-isolation orders and made overtures toward reopening businesses to revitalize the economy .
Meanwhile , @ @ @ @ @ s likely Democratic Presidential opponent , has refrained from openly antagonizing the President .
Glasser @ @ @ @ @ Do you attack Trump right now , or do you just sort of stand out @ @ @ @ @ him shoot himself in the foot ?
”

Photograph by Stefani Reynolds / Bloomberg / Getty
It’s been just more than a month since Donald Trump tweeted for the first time about the coronavirus—saying, in essence, that the virus did not pose a substantial threat to the United States. Why did he so dramatically underplay the risks of COVID-19? “With Trump, sometimes the answer is pretty transparent,” Susan B. Glasser, The New Yorker’s Washington correspondent, told David Remnick, “and, in this case, I think the answer is pretty transparent. He didn’t want anything to interrupt his reëlection-campaign plan, which entirely hinged on the strength of the U.S. economy.” Even as the virus spreads, Trump has criticized widespread self-isolation orders and made overtures toward reopening businesses to revitalize the economy. Meanwhile, Joe Biden, Trump’s likely Democratic Presidential opponent, has refrained from openly antagonizing the President. Glasser weighs this tactic: “Do you attack Trump right now, or do you just sort of stand out of the way and let him shoot himself in the foot?”


newyorker--2020-03-30--As the Coronavirus Ravages the City, Where Should a Good New Yorker Be?

“ Do we want to be those people ?
” my daughter , Yolka , asked .
She meant , Do we want to be the rich white people who leave the besieged city because they can ?
“ Yes , ” I said .
I explained that we wanted to be those people who break the chain of contagion in our apartment building , where , every time we went outside , we touched at least three doorknobs and two elevator buttons .
And , if we got very ill , we wanted to be those people who were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ taking up hospital beds that were needed by people who didn ’ t have the option of leaving .
We rented a car .
We rented a house .
We drove , stopping only once—to refuel , using disinfected gloves .
On Monday , March 16th , we arrived in Falmouth , Massachusetts , a town on Cape Cod where my seventy-five-year-old father lives .
The town has a hospital with more than a hundred beds , for a year-round population of just over thirty thousand , and it ’ s only about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Boston Medical Area , a cluster of hospitals unlike any other in the country .
My twenty-one-year-old son flew in from college the following day , we conducted one giant shopping trip , and we commenced our quarantine .
My father is also under quarantine , because of possible exposure in Boston , where he works ; we haven ’ t seen him or anyone else .
A couple of days after we arrived in Falmouth , a narrative had started to take hold across the Northeast .
“ Coronavirus leads to class @ @ @ @ @ @ @ headline in the New York Post announced .
The Times reported that tensions were mounting in the Catskills .
The spectre haunting these stories was that of a wealthy Manhattanite who knows or suspects that she is infected with the coronavirus and wants to get treatment at the small , underequipped local hospital .
The Post story had two of these anecdotes , one in Southampton and the other in East Hampton , but neither account was firsthand .
The journalist Caroline Kitchener , writing about Nantucket , tweeted that “ someone drove @ @ @ @ @ @ @ arrived , ” though her story for The Lily omitted this anecdote .
Word on Martha ’ s Vineyard—a short ferry ride from Falmouth—is that the first person to test positive there was a New York real-estate agent who came into town for a closing .
Chris Priore , who owns a construction business on the island , told me about it , citing a story in the Martha ’ s Vineyard Times as his source .
In fact , the story identified the first Martha ’ s Vineyard coronavirus patient as a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that the person was “ previously from New York ” and mentioned a real-estate closing .
But , the day after the first confirmed case on Martha ’ s Vineyard , the presidents of the Martha ’ s Vineyard and Nantucket hospitals issued a joint statement asking people who were not already on the islands to stay away .
Members of the state legislature who represent the islands asked the Massachusetts governor , Charlie Baker , to restrict travel to the islands and consider deploying the National Guard .
( At this writing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the coronavirus and has not released information on whether the patients are local residents , while Martha ’ s Vineyard has six confirmed cases . )
Massachusetts has closed schools , restaurants , and bars , and taken other anti-pandemic measures , but Baker has insisted that construction should be allowed to continue .
( Both islands have since officially banned all construction locally . )
Priore , however , told me that he has declined to do work on houses on Martha ’ s Vineyard with seasonal inhabitants who were considering coming @ @ @ @ @ @ @ example , wanted him to open up their house and replace the water heater .
He has refused to do such work , primarily to protect himself but also because , as he told me , he is ambivalent about helping any second-home owners at this time .
Like most year-round residents , Priore , who is forty-one , depends on the summer crowd for much of his income , so , he said , “ It ’ s very conflicting for me.
” To explain to his regular customers why he was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he showed them the hospital presidents ’ statement .
Another Martha ’ s Vineyard resident I interviewed suggested that people coming to the island should be tested for the coronavirus before they are allowed entrance , and said that , as long as that ’ s not feasible , no one should be coming .
Rick Hamilton , who is sixty-five , also depends on summer business : he is a boat captain who mostly ferries people to and from their own boats .
He doesn ’ t want his customers arriving yet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , we are going to explode , ” he told me , his voice cracking .
“ You can hear the stress.
” It sounded more like terror .
Especially after President Trump ratcheted up mentions of New Yorkers during his coronavirus briefings—at one point even suggesting that he would place the tri-state area on lockdown—discussions on local online forums in Falmouth were becoming more heated .
In a Facebook group called “ Falmouth Discussion , ” people were sharing pictures of New York license plates that they had spotted in town .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ local branch of a national business chain deny entry to a customer who had driven up in a car with New York plates .
I contacted one of the outspoken opponents of part-timers via Facebook Messenger , and she wrote to me , “ They think because they own a property here and pay taxes that they have a right to be here .
The truth of it all is that , we don ’ t have enough medical staff , equipment , food , etc to sustain those of us who are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ We are too small to deal with selfish , greedy , know it alls who come here when we can ’ t even take care of our own.
” ( She then instructed me not to use her name . )
On Thursday , Falmouth put up electronic display boards along the highway : “ ATTN : COVID-19 NOTICE / METRO NY ARRIVALS REQUESTD / 14 DAY SLF QUARANTINE.
” When the governor of Rhode Island , Gina Raimondo , mobilized the police and the National Guard to stop cars with New York @ @ @ @ @ @ @ house to look for New Yorkers , in order to enforce self-quarantine , “ Falmouth Discussion ” lit up with demands for Governor Baker to do the same—and , of course , to close the two bridges to Cape Cod for everything but deliveries .
On another discussion board , “ Engage Falmouth , ” where the politics skew more progressive , weariness mixed with sympathy .
“ I understand the fear pushing people to come stay , ” Pamela McCarthy , one of the moderators of the group , wrote to me @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is fifty , lives in Mashpee , which borders Falmouth , and commutes to work at a university in Boston .
“ I am not sure how much good it will do people to stay somewhere else .
I don ’ t think you can really escape the virus .
I think practicing social distance where you currently are is the best bet right now.
” When I pointed out that social distancing is relatively easy in Falmouth—where most houses are single-family and many lakes , ponds , and wildlife reserves separate living @ @ @ @ @ @ @ People still have to get to the store and the pharmacy .
And they may still get sick .
”

“Do we want to be those people?” my daughter, Yolka, asked. She meant, Do we want to be the rich white people who leave the besieged city because they can?
“Yes,” I said. I explained that we wanted to be those people who break the chain of contagion in our apartment building, where, every time we went outside, we touched at least three doorknobs and two elevator buttons. And, if we got very ill, we wanted to be those people who were not stressing this already overtaxed city, taking up hospital beds that were needed by people who didn’t have the option of leaving.
We rented a car. We rented a house. We drove, stopping only once—to refuel, using disinfected gloves. On Monday, March 16th, we arrived in Falmouth, Massachusetts, a town on Cape Cod where my seventy-five-year-old father lives. The town has a hospital with more than a hundred beds, for a year-round population of just over thirty thousand, and it’s only about an hour’s drive from the Boston Medical Area, a cluster of hospitals unlike any other in the country. My twenty-one-year-old son flew in from college the following day, we conducted one giant shopping trip, and we commenced our quarantine. My father is also under quarantine, because of possible exposure in Boston, where he works; we haven’t seen him or anyone else.
A couple of days after we arrived in Falmouth, a narrative had started to take hold across the Northeast. “Coronavirus leads to class warfare in the Hamptons,” a headline in the New York Post announced. The Times reported that tensions were mounting in the Catskills. The spectre haunting these stories was that of a wealthy Manhattanite who knows or suspects that she is infected with the coronavirus and wants to get treatment at the small, underequipped local hospital. The Post story had two of these anecdotes, one in Southampton and the other in East Hampton, but neither account was firsthand. The journalist Caroline Kitchener, writing about Nantucket, tweeted that “someone drove to the hospital as soon as they arrived,” though her story for The Lily omitted this anecdote. Word on Martha’s Vineyard—a short ferry ride from Falmouth—is that the first person to test positive there was a New York real-estate agent who came into town for a closing. Chris Priore, who owns a construction business on the island, told me about it, citing a story in the Martha’s Vineyard Times as his source. In fact, the story identified the first Martha’s Vineyard coronavirus patient as a local resident, though it did say that the person was “previously from New York” and mentioned a real-estate closing.
But, the day after the first confirmed case on Martha’s Vineyard, the presidents of the Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket hospitals issued a joint statement asking people who were not already on the islands to stay away. Members of the state legislature who represent the islands asked the Massachusetts governor, Charlie Baker, to restrict travel to the islands and consider deploying the National Guard. (At this writing, Nantucket has eight confirmed cases of the coronavirus and has not released information on whether the patients are local residents, while Martha’s Vineyard has six confirmed cases.)
Massachusetts has closed schools, restaurants, and bars, and taken other anti-pandemic measures, but Baker has insisted that construction should be allowed to continue. (Both islands have since officially banned all construction locally.) Priore, however, told me that he has declined to do work on houses on Martha’s Vineyard with seasonal inhabitants who were considering coming to the island now—one family, for example, wanted him to open up their house and replace the water heater. He has refused to do such work, primarily to protect himself but also because, as he told me, he is ambivalent about helping any second-home owners at this time. Like most year-round residents, Priore, who is forty-one, depends on the summer crowd for much of his income, so, he said, “It’s very conflicting for me.” To explain to his regular customers why he was turning them away, he said, he showed them the hospital presidents’ statement.
Another Martha’s Vineyard resident I interviewed suggested that people coming to the island should be tested for the coronavirus before they are allowed entrance, and said that, as long as that’s not feasible, no one should be coming. Rick Hamilton, who is sixty-five, also depends on summer business: he is a boat captain who mostly ferries people to and from their own boats. He doesn’t want his customers arriving yet. “In a week or two, we are going to explode,” he told me, his voice cracking. “You can hear the stress.” It sounded more like terror.
Especially after President Trump ratcheted up mentions of New Yorkers during his coronavirus briefings—at one point even suggesting that he would place the tri-state area on lockdown—discussions on local online forums in Falmouth were becoming more heated. In a Facebook group called “Falmouth Discussion,” people were sharing pictures of New York license plates that they had spotted in town. Someone posted that she had seen a local branch of a national business chain deny entry to a customer who had driven up in a car with New York plates. I contacted one of the outspoken opponents of part-timers via Facebook Messenger, and she wrote to me, “They think because they own a property here and pay taxes that they have a right to be here. The truth of it all is that, we don’t have enough medical staff, equipment, food, etc to sustain those of us who are full time residents. . . . We are too small to deal with selfish, greedy, know it alls who come here when we can’t even take care of our own.” (She then instructed me not to use her name.)


newyorker--2020-03-31--C.D.C. Guidelines for Persuading Your Boomer Parents to Stay Home

Tell your parents that at some point in the next three months , between the hours of 6 A.M. and midnight , they will receive a singing telegram from Paul Simon .
Create a streaming watch list for them that is made up exclusively of documentaries about the Second World War and the events that led up to the Second World War .
Build a V.R .
headset equipped with one experience and one experience only : driving to the dump , to dump stuff .
Develop an immersive board game that simulates getting to the airport four hours early @ @ @ @ @ @ @ about having to remove your belt and shoes .
Point out that your parents don ’ t need to buy toilet paper , given that they have thirty years ’ worth of Reader ’ s Digest piling up in their bathrooms ( not to mention thirty years ’ worth of actual toilet paper ) .
Unsubscribe them from the neighborhood ’ s curbside-furniture e-mail Listserv .
Hold all of your parents ’ rum , tequila , and IcyHot hostage .
Don ’ t unlock the liquor or medicine cabinets until they hand over @ @ @ @ @ @ @ card game that simulates going to a restaurant that has license plates on the walls .
Create another watch list , because they ’ re going to tear through that first one in two days , tops .
Up next : Harrison Ford movies , “ The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel , ” and three-hundred-and-sixty-degree walking tours of Home Depot and Kroger .
Offer to mow their lawn once a week , but vow that , for each time they leave the house , you will miss a spot .
Every day , have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ghost pepper in through an open window , with a slip of paper containing the pepper ’ s history and a ghost- and/or pepper-themed joke .
Rig their front door so that if they open it the Keurig craps out .
Rig their back door so that if they open it the La-Z-Boy won ’ t recline .
Rig their television to play “ Hacksaw Ridge ” anytime one of them wonders aloud whether Ruby Tuesday is still open .
Convert their guest bedroom ( available whenever you want to visit , no @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pit of floppy disks , iPhone 4s , and cashmere sweaters from Coldwater Creek .
They should be tuckered out in a half hour .
Send them another watch list—this one is just a Webcam pointed at that spot in the woods where your parents take blurry pictures of deer .
They will somehow never tire of this .
Develop an immersive tabletop role-playing game that simulates scolding the G.P.S .
for not knowing the back roads , in order to ultimately prove that they weren ’ t “ born yesterday.
” Remind @ @ @ @ @ @ @ DiGiornos , dusty Diet Cokes , and random cans of gasoline to ride this thing out .
If all else fails , take drastic action : promise to answer their FaceTime calls .

America appears to be experiencing a generational divide in how people respond to recommendations to stay home and practice social distancing to help stop the spread of the coronavirus, experts say. Many young people have taken to social media to express frustration that members of older generations are still carrying on with their daily activities, such as dining out, playing golf or attending fitness classes despite warnings to practice social distancing and avoid large gatherings.—ABC News
Photograph from Buccina Studios / Getty
Tell your parents that at some point in the next three months, between the hours of 6 A.M. and midnight, they will receive a singing telegram from Paul Simon.
Create a streaming watch list for them that is made up exclusively of documentaries about the Second World War and the events that led up to the Second World War.
Build a V.R. headset equipped with one experience and one experience only: driving to the dump, to dump stuff.
Develop an immersive board game that simulates getting to the airport four hours early for a domestic flight but still complaining about having to remove your belt and shoes.
Point out that your parents don’t need to buy toilet paper, given that they have thirty years’ worth of Reader’s Digest piling up in their bathrooms (not to mention thirty years’ worth of actual toilet paper).
Unsubscribe them from the neighborhood’s curbside-furniture e-mail Listserv.
Hold all of your parents’ rum, tequila, and IcyHot hostage. Don’t unlock the liquor or medicine cabinets until they hand over their car keys.
Develop an immersive card game that simulates going to a restaurant that has license plates on the walls.
Create another watch list, because they’re going to tear through that first one in two days, tops. Up next: Harrison Ford movies, “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel,” and three-hundred-and-sixty-degree walking tours of Home Depot and Kroger.
Offer to mow their lawn once a week, but vow that, for each time they leave the house, you will miss a spot.
Every day, have a drone drop a new kind of ghost pepper in through an open window, with a slip of paper containing the pepper’s history and a ghost- and/or pepper-themed joke.
Rig their front door so that if they open it the Keurig craps out.
Rig their back door so that if they open it the La-Z-Boy won’t recline.
Rig their television to play “Hacksaw Ridge” anytime one of them wonders aloud whether Ruby Tuesday is still open.
Convert their guest bedroom (available whenever you want to visit, no questions asked!) into a ball pit of floppy disks, iPhone 4s, and cashmere sweaters from Coldwater Creek. They should be tuckered out in a half hour.
Send them another watch list—this one is just a Webcam pointed at that spot in the woods where your parents take blurry pictures of deer. They will somehow never tire of this.
Develop an immersive tabletop role-playing game that simulates scolding the G.P.S. for not knowing the back roads, in order to ultimately prove that they weren’t “born yesterday.”
Remind them that their garage contains enough frozen DiGiornos, dusty Diet Cokes, and random cans of gasoline to ride this thing out.
If all else fails, take drastic action: promise to answer their FaceTime calls.


newyorker--2020-03-31--The Doubled Fears of the Undocumented During the Coronavirus Shutdown

Carina has lived in South Florida , where she works as a customer-service representative for an insurance agency , for almost twenty years .
She rents a two-story home on a quiet street in a diverse neighborhood , which she shares with her two daughters—Karina and Carolina , both in their early twenties—and also her brother and their parents .
A few cousins live nearby .
The older of her daughters , Karina , works at a performing-arts center downtown , where she ’ s risen from intern to box-office manager .
The center closed indefinitely last week , on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pay has been halved .
Carolina had been working the cosmetics counter at Macy ’ s .
She was recently sent home indefinitely , the result of pandemic-related belt-tightening ; she hoped to be brought back when it ’ s safe to touch the faces of strangers again .
Carina ’ s father , whom they all call Tata , is a mechanic who does house calls .
He usually brings in the most money , but many of his customers are now balking at having him visit .
Carina ’ s employer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ continued to go in to the office , working from nine until six o ’ clock every day , for her usual pay .
But it ’ s never been enough to support everyone .
Carina has other worries .
Her mother , who is in her late sixties , had open-heart surgery two decades ago , in their native Argentina , and still has heart problems—in recent years , she has suffered multiple heart attacks and a stroke .
( She asked that I not use her name . )
She left @ @ @ @ @ @ @ after the heart surgery , following Tata , who had immigrated two years before and had sent money home so that she , their son , and Carina and her two daughters could join him .
( The father of Carina ’ s children stayed in Argentina ; he and Carina are divorced . )
Now , when Tata and his wife need medical care , they go to a clinic nearby , which offers free services to those who qualify , including those who—like Tata and his wife , and like Carina @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ( Karina and Carolina are both DACA recipients . )
“ If my grandparents need medical attention , I don ’ t know what would happen , ” Karina said recently .
The clinic has limited resources—it lacks a ventilator and has been closed since March 20th .
( According to a voice-mail recording , the clinic is closed for spring break and will reopen on March 30th . )
Karina went on , “ Most Americans have health care .
Most of my friends have it .
They ’ re calm about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and stuff.
” It is already harder for the undocumented to get medical attention , Karina said , and , “ in times like this , when everybody needs it , it will be even harder.
” She wondered how her family members would be asked to identify themselves at a hospital .
“ They have only expired Argentinean passports , ” she said .
Tata used to talk about returning to Argentina , but the virus has dampened his enthusiasm for the idea—he worries that it could be even more dangerous there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the conversations he ’ s been having with those back home .
“ He tries to be the macho man , ” Karina told me ; he has been using FaceTime to reassure his brother in Argentina , “ telling him that God would protect them , ” Carolina said , but also encouraging family members to wash their hands frequently .
Carolina and Karina wonder whether their grandfather ultimately will have a choice about where he lives .
“ I ’ ve seen how ICE is going into homes and trying to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” Carolina said .
“ That ’ s so scary.
” On March 16th , Immigration and Customs Enforcement carried out a raid in Los Angeles ; the agency subsequently issued a statement promising that it would delay certain actions for the time being , though not all .
“ During the COVID-19 crisis , ICE will not carry out enforcement operations at or near health care facilities , such as hospitals , doctors ’ offices , accredited health clinics , and emergent or urgent care facilities , except in the most extraordinary @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ Individuals should not avoid seeking medical care because they fear civil immigration enforcement.
” Many immigrants remain frightened and are unsure whom to trust .
Karina and Carolina watch Univision , but for news they rely mostly on Twitter users whom they regard as reliable , such as the fellow DACA recipient and immigration-rights advocate Juan Escalante .
On Twitter , many shared a Los Angeles Times report on the recent ICE raid , and a Vice News story about hunger strikes in detention centers in New Jersey , where undocumented @ @ @ @ @ @ @ fearing that the arrival of COVID-19 will turn the centers into death camps .
If Carina were to become the only member of the household with income , I wondered , how would they get by ?
“ We won ’ t , ” her two said .
“ We ’ re concerned about rent payments , ” Karina added .
“ If Mom loses hours , we ’ ll need help.
” They had heard that Congress was considering sending a thousand dollars or more to each citizen .
“ I feel @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with everyone else , since it ’ s not really our country , ” Carolina told me .
“ Especially our mother and grandparents , ” Karina added .
Karina and Carolina were born in Mendoza but have lived in the U.S. since they were a few years old .
“ This is where our life is , ” Karina said .
“ This is all we know.
” But , in some ways , Carolina said , they all “ live in the shadows.
” A week earlier , at a White @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Mnuchin had told reporters , “ Americans need cash now , and the President wants to get cash now—and I mean in the next two weeks.
” What did the sisters make of this ?
“ When the President says Americans will get checks in the mail , we are not sure who he means , ” Karina told me .
“ Does he mean people like us , who have lived here almost our entire lives ?
Even though we are not American on paper ?
” On Friday , Congress passed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for sending payments of up to twelve hundred dollars to each American , with additional money provided for dependents .
( The payments are phased out above certain income thresholds . )
It also bolsters the unemployment insurance that states offer , for up to four months , and makes independent contractors and those who are self-employed eligible for that insurance .
Carina ’ s family pays taxes , Karina told me , and they had become more hopeful that they would be included when relief checks are sent out .
But , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ director of the National Immigration Law Center , who has analyzed the bill , many mixed-status families—a category that , Hincapié noted , includes some eighty per cent of immigrant families—appear to be excluded .
“ A U.S.-citizen wife who is married to an undocumented husband , or Dreamer children with undocumented parents—those families , if they ’ re filing tax returns together , would not be eligible for the cash payment , ” Hincapié said .
Unemployment insurance will be offered only to immigrants with work permits , which Carina and her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , though the bill provides funding for hospitals and health centers to offer testing and treatment for COVID-19 , “ it has no requirement that those services be provided to patients who are uninsured , ” Hincapié told me .
Kerri Talbot , a lawyer who works for the Immigration Hub , an advocacy organization based in Washington , D.C. , said , “ If we don ’ t open up emergency Medicaid and a state option for Medicaid to cover undocumented immigrants , then we ’ re gon na have trouble on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t gon na be able to pay for treatment.
” This would be an issue for Dreamers , too , she noted , and “ people with protective status and new green-card holders.
” She and Hincapié both hope that subsequent relief bills will address these gaps in support .
“ In the meantime , ” Hincapié said , “ people are going to be suffering economically and health-wise , which puts us all at greater risk .
”

Carina has lived in South Florida, where she works as a customer-service representative for an insurance agency, for almost twenty years. She rents a two-story home on a quiet street in a diverse neighborhood, which she shares with her two daughters—Karina and Carolina, both in their early twenties—and also her brother and their parents. A few cousins live nearby. The older of her daughters, Karina, works at a performing-arts center downtown, where she’s risen from intern to box-office manager. The center closed indefinitely last week, on account of the coronavirus, and her pay has been halved. Carolina had been working the cosmetics counter at Macy’s. She was recently sent home indefinitely, the result of pandemic-related belt-tightening; she hoped to be brought back when it’s safe to touch the faces of strangers again. Carina’s father, whom they all call Tata, is a mechanic who does house calls. He usually brings in the most money, but many of his customers are now balking at having him visit. Carina’s employer has remained open, and she has continued to go in to the office, working from nine until six o’clock every day, for her usual pay. But it’s never been enough to support everyone.
Carina has other worries. Her mother, who is in her late sixties, had open-heart surgery two decades ago, in their native Argentina, and still has heart problems—in recent years, she has suffered multiple heart attacks and a stroke. (She asked that I not use her name.) She left Argentina for the United States not long after the heart surgery, following Tata, who had immigrated two years before and had sent money home so that she, their son, and Carina and her two daughters could join him. (The father of Carina’s children stayed in Argentina; he and Carina are divorced.) Now, when Tata and his wife need medical care, they go to a clinic nearby, which offers free services to those who qualify, including those who—like Tata and his wife, and like Carina and her daughters—are uninsured and undocumented. (Karina and Carolina are both DACA recipients.)
“If my grandparents need medical attention, I don’t know what would happen,” Karina said recently. The clinic has limited resources—it lacks a ventilator and has been closed since March 20th. (According to a voice-mail recording, the clinic is closed for spring break and will reopen on March 30th.) Karina went on, “Most Americans have health care. Most of my friends have it. They’re calm about it. They go to private doctors and stuff.” It is already harder for the undocumented to get medical attention, Karina said, and, “in times like this, when everybody needs it, it will be even harder.” She wondered how her family members would be asked to identify themselves at a hospital. “They have only expired Argentinean passports,” she said.
Tata used to talk about returning to Argentina, but the virus has dampened his enthusiasm for the idea—he worries that it could be even more dangerous there than in the U.S., judging from the conversations he’s been having with those back home. “He tries to be the macho man,” Karina told me; he has been using FaceTime to reassure his brother in Argentina, “telling him that God would protect them,” Carolina said, but also encouraging family members to wash their hands frequently. Carolina and Karina wonder whether their grandfather ultimately will have a choice about where he lives. “I’ve seen how ICE is going into homes and trying to deport families at this vulnerable time,” Carolina said. “That’s so scary.”
On March 16th, Immigration and Customs Enforcement carried out a raid in Los Angeles; the agency subsequently issued a statement promising that it would delay certain actions for the time being, though not all. “During the COVID-19 crisis, ICE will not carry out enforcement operations at or near health care facilities, such as hospitals, doctors’ offices, accredited health clinics, and emergent or urgent care facilities, except in the most extraordinary of circumstances,” the statement read. “Individuals should not avoid seeking medical care because they fear civil immigration enforcement.” Many immigrants remain frightened and are unsure whom to trust. Karina and Carolina watch Univision, but for news they rely mostly on Twitter users whom they regard as reliable, such as the fellow DACA recipient and immigration-rights advocate Juan Escalante. On Twitter, many shared a Los Angeles Times report on the recent ICE raid, and a Vice News story about hunger strikes in detention centers in New Jersey, where undocumented people have been protesting unsafe conditions, fearing that the arrival of COVID-19 will turn the centers into death camps.
If Carina were to become the only member of the household with income, I wondered, how would they get by? “We won’t,” her two daughters said. “We’re concerned about rent payments,” Karina added. “If Mom loses hours, we’ll need help.” They had heard that Congress was considering sending a thousand dollars or more to each citizen. “I feel like we won’t be prioritized with everyone else, since it’s not really our country,” Carolina told me. “Especially our mother and grandparents,” Karina added. Karina and Carolina were born in Mendoza but have lived in the U.S. since they were a few years old. “This is where our life is,” Karina said. “This is all we know.” But, in some ways, Carolina said, they all “live in the shadows.”
A week earlier, at a White House press briefing, Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin had told reporters, “Americans need cash now, and the President wants to get cash now—and I mean in the next two weeks.” What did the sisters make of this? “When the President says Americans will get checks in the mail, we are not sure who he means,” Karina told me. “Does he mean people like us, who have lived here almost our entire lives? Even though we are not American on paper?”
On Friday, Congress passed a two-trillion-dollar relief bill, which calls for sending payments of up to twelve hundred dollars to each American, with additional money provided for dependents. (The payments are phased out above certain income thresholds.) It also bolsters the unemployment insurance that states offer, for up to four months, and makes independent contractors and those who are self-employed eligible for that insurance. Carina’s family pays taxes, Karina told me, and they had become more hopeful that they would be included when relief checks are sent out.
But, according to Marielena Hincapié, the executive director of the National Immigration Law Center, who has analyzed the bill, many mixed-status families—a category that, Hincapié noted, includes some eighty per cent of immigrant families—appear to be excluded. “A U.S.-citizen wife who is married to an undocumented husband, or Dreamer children with undocumented parents—those families, if they’re filing tax returns together, would not be eligible for the cash payment,” Hincapié said. Unemployment insurance will be offered only to immigrants with work permits, which Carina and her parents don’t have. And, though the bill provides funding for hospitals and health centers to offer testing and treatment for COVID-19, “it has no requirement that those services be provided to patients who are uninsured,” Hincapié told me.
Kerri Talbot, a lawyer who works for the Immigration Hub, an advocacy organization based in Washington, D.C., said, “If we don’t open up emergency Medicaid and a state option for Medicaid to cover undocumented immigrants, then we’re gonna have trouble on our hands, because people aren’t gonna be able to pay for treatment.” This would be an issue for Dreamers, too, she noted, and “people with protective status and new green-card holders.” She and Hincapié both hope that subsequent relief bills will address these gaps in support. “In the meantime,” Hincapié said, “people are going to be suffering economically and health-wise, which puts us all at greater risk.”
Ivette is a member of a mixed-status family in Mesa, Arizona. A freshman at Arizona State, she is a U.S. citizen, as are her two younger sisters; they all live with their parents, who were born in Mexico and remain undocumented. One of her younger sisters, she told me, recently said, “We have to face the truth—we never know what might happen to our family if we’re separated or if our parents end up getting sick.” Ivette had been thinking about those words. “It made me sad, and it also moved me more to come up with a plan for what our family will possibly have to face in the next few weeks.” Her mother is a homemaker, and her father is a construction worker. “What will we do if my dad does get dismissed from his job?” she said. “What do we do if one of my parents gets sick? What do we do if one of my sisters gets sick and we do have to go to a hospital?”
“We might have to look for emergency jobs, so that we can help maintain our family,” Ivette went on. Her father’s boss recently warned him that he may have to stay home soon, as a precaution. Ivette and her sisters had found opportunities at local grocery stores (“they need help keeping up with demand,” Ivette said), but they had not told their parents that they were thinking of getting jobs. “Because we know that they’ve been stressed and worried,” Ivette said. “We don’t want them to feel even more pressured—especially my dad.” She worried, too, about the possibility of getting sick at the store and bringing the virus home to her parents and her sisters.
Ivette’s mother generally goes to a local clinic for medical attention. “My dad, he refuses to get any medical help and will just stick to home remedies instead,” Ivette said. Even if she could persuade him to go to a hospital, she worried that he could be “turned away and turned in to ICE agents and then detained.” She added, “We’ve been seeing headlines about how, regardless of the global pandemic, ICE agents are still targeting the immigrant community.” She had seen stories about this on Twitter. “There’s a distrust with our health officials right now,” she said. “They might possibly be working closely with ICE.” Talbot told me that this was not likely. The fear of it was not uncommon among the undocumented, though, she noted. “ICE should be more clear in its policy about how it’s going to treat undocumented people during the emergency,” Talbot said. “They’ve put out conflicting statements, and they need to be very clear that they’re not going to be enforcing at sensitive locations like hospitals.”
Adrian Escarate, a DACA recipient in his thirties, doesn’t have to worry about his parents quite as much as he used to: his father, Rodrigo, became a citizen in mid-December, and, just a few weeks ago, his mother, Jessica, did, too. The couple has lived in Miami for almost thirty years. “Now we do feel like we have rights,” Jessica told me, by phone, last week. “Because we lived so many years undocumented, we are still figuring out how to access our citizenship. How to exercise help—financial and medical. This is a new frontier.” Rodrigo has diabetes, which he had been able to monitor cheaply through Obamacare. “Moving forward, we’ll be more likely to ask for help,” Jessica said. “And, as we get older, the help will be essential.” But she worries about her undocumented friends and family members. “I don’t feel that now that I’m a citizen I deserve more attention,” she said. “The government should help all people, no matter what status.”
Adrian listened as we spoke, occasionally serving as a translator. He recently moved to San Francisco, where he works for a social-justice nonprofit that focusses on immigration. “You hear all these stories about citizenship being revoked, immigration officials being more stringent, Supreme Court rulings that hurt immigrants,” he said. “I’m overjoyed that my parents are finally able to breathe that sigh of relief and ride it out.” He went on, “I just hope they can continue to make money, the same hope that all of us in America share right now.” Rodrigo normally works at a tennis shop, and also drives for Uber and Lyft, but he has been staying home lately, to protect his ninety-six-year-old mother from the virus. Jessica was working at Marshalls, but her hours were drastically reduced, and then the store was shut down altogether.
I asked Adrian whether he might end up having to support his parents financially. “I posed the question to my dad last week, about helping out with money,” he said. “But you know how, like, kind of prideful people can be?” He went on, “At first, he kind of played it off, like, ‘No, it’s all right, we don’t need it.’ ” His father has savings and would reach out to his landlord about postponing payment for a month or two, Adrian said. “But, if this goes on for another month or two, I’ll definitely need to help them out.” Adrian also has savings, and a job that he can do remotely. “But if I were still teaching tennis, like I was doing back in Florida, it would be a different story.” And now he faces another potential obstacle: he has not been able to complete the process to renew his DACA status, because the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services offices in California are closed, like so much else, on account of the lockdown. He worries about losing his status and, with it, the ability to work. “I’m just taking it one day at a time and remaining hopeful,” he said. “It worked for my parents.”
Later in the week, I talked again with Karina and Carolina, elsewhere in South Florida. Shortly before we first spoke, they had thrown a birthday party for their mother, who was turning forty-nine. There had been cake and plenty of meat. (“We’re Argentinean, so we make great steak,” Karina said.) There had also been hand sanitizer, Lysol, and, instead of hugs, “fist bumps in the air,” Karina said. Empty aisles and empty shelves at the grocery store had brought Carina to tears days earlier. “It felt like a movie,” Carolina said of the grocery-store scene. “She was crying because she didn’t understand how it had gotten to this point.”
Now most of the family is home most of the time, and the days have been passing with little change. Karina’s boss at the arts center had given her a few more hours, which was good, though she was still working less than full time. When the family wasn’t working or cooking, they watched television: the elders preferred telenovelas, while Karina and her sister chose Netflix shows, in English. Carolina had found a murder mystery she liked. Karina was trying out one with a plot about gangs in high school. “Anything but the outbreak shows,” she said. “That’s just too much right now.” On Monday, Carolina was formally furloughed from Macy’s. She began researching how unemployment works and whether she qualified.


newyorker--2020-03-31--Amid a Political and Public-Health Crisis, Israel’s Opposition Leader Shocks Everyone by Ceding Powe

Amid a Political and Public-Health Crisis, Israel’s Opposition Leader Shocks Everyone by Ceding Power to Netanyahu

For Israelis , a vague feeling of siege is second nature .
So the common response to the coronavirus threat—to government exhortations to shelter—has been reasonably stoic .
Israelis are more rattled by more than five thousand diagnosed cases portending the collapse of its underfunded health-care system , and by imminent economic paralysis , with more than twenty per cent unemployed and tens of thousands of small businesses and freelancers contemplating bankruptcy .
Israelis have already been rattled by three elections in one year , which produced a continued electoral stalemate , a defiant Prime Minister facing trial on corruption @ @ @ @ @ @ @ claims of democracy against those of “ Zionism.
” Given all that , it is hard to imagine Israelis being shocked .
But shock is just what Benny Gantz , the leader of Israel ’ s main opposition party , Blue and White , managed to deliver this past Thursday in the Knesset , Israel ’ s parliament .
Owing to the results of the nation ’ s most recent election , on March 2nd , Gantz held a Presidential mandate to form the next government .
The Knesset was assembled under a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu ’ s effort to obstruct it , to elect a new Speaker—one who would not be beholden to Netanyahu .
At the last minute , Gantz put himself forward for the job with , of all things , the support of Netanyahu ’ s rightist bloc , led by the Likud party .
This was Gantz ’ s first public step in surrendering the mandate and entering an “ emergency ” government of national unity under Netanyahu ; Gantz was duly elected Speaker 74–18 .
“ These are not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ decisions , ” he told an eerily vacated Knesset .
“ I will not compromise on the principles for which more than a million citizens voted.
” Joining Gantz in Netanyahu ’ s government will be Gabi Ashkenazi—like Gantz , a former Army chief of staff , and a founder of Blue and White—and the two prominent members of what ’ s left of the Labor Party .
Blue and White had won thirty-three seats ; Gantz would now lead a faction of seventeen members , almost all of whom would be promised @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s name .
But Yair Lapid , another Blue and White leader , and Moshe Yaalon , the third former general among the party ’ s founders , announced that they considered Gantz ’ s move treachery .
Both men have worked for Netanyahu and abhor his deceit and venality .
They continue to refuse to serve under an indicted Prime Minister .
They will , they say , quit Blue and White and lead the new opposition , with a faction of sixteen members .
“ Gantz surrendered without a fight @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
He joined the ‘ Haredi-extremist bloc.
’ ” Lapid said .
Just when to “ fold ’ em ” is never as knowable as Kenny Rogers ’ s song suggests , but nobody doubted that Netanyahu was holding the stronger hand .
He has been playing on public fears of the coronavirus and an imminent lockdown to promote himself .
Yet the need for authoritative action was clear .
Public estimates suggested that the government would spend itself into a ten-per-cent budget deficit .
The coronavirus is spiking in dense ultra-Orthodox communities @ @ @ @ @ @ @ patriotic impulses .
In addition , two Blue and White Knesset members , citing the need for “ unity , ” had preëmpted Gantz ’ s formation of a minority government that would be dependent on the Joint List , an alliance of mainly Israeli-Arab parties , led by Ayman Odeh .
Gantz reportedly polled voters and saw that , should there be a fourth election , Netanyahu would trounce him .
So nobody doubted , either , that some form of national-unity government was inevitable—even that Netanyahu might serve as Prime Minister @ @ @ @ @ @ @ What many did doubt was that Gantz would capitulate , just as Blue and White was gaining leverage , to shape the terms of a unity government .
With Odeh ’ s support , Gantz had whipped sixty-one seats in the Knesset , out of a hundred and twenty , and had already gained control over key oversight committees ; the High Court had backed up the right to elect a new Speaker , who would be responsible for advancing , or obstructing , all proposed legislation .
So Gantz might have proposed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an indicted member from serving as Prime Minister .
Would Netanyahu force “ a fourth election ” under the threat that such a law could be passed ?
Nor is a unity government really required to deal with the urgent business of the coronavirus crisis .
All of Netanyahu ’ s decisions—about quarantines , oversight of police monitoring , budgeting of disaster spending and taxes—derive from epidemiological and economic models worked up by professionals at the Health and Finance Ministries and the Bank of Israel .
The cabinet and the Knesset committees are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who runs a particular ministry .
On Monday , Netanyahu—himself under quarantine after exposure to an infected adviser—unveiled a twenty-two-billion-dollar package including unemployment benefits and subsidized business loans .
Meanwhile , the current Health Minister , the ultra-Orthodox Yaakov Litzman , was “ praying and hoping ” for deliverance from the virus by the Messiah , who would hopefully arrive , Litzman said , “ before Passover , the time of our redemption.
” Most significantly , Gantz was not simply the head of an opposition party but—by default , in the course @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s culture war , resisting theocracy and Messianic justifications for the occupation and reproving Netanyahu ’ s violations of the law , assaults on the press , and self-aggrandizing diplomacy .
Gaining leverage in that battle was especially important to Israeli-Arab citizens .
It hardly seems arguable , given our times , that an elected leader , backed by a panicked nationalist majority , can , with many small cuts , hollow out a democracy .
Netanyahu ’ s first cuts , for which he was eventually indicted , centered on efforts @ @ @ @ @ @ @ press .
The unkindest cut has been his yearlong campaign to whip up Zionist disdain for Arabs , posturing as the fierce leader of the Jewish people ’ s nation-state and fending off the efforts of the Arab minority and Jewish liberals to accept Israel as a “ state of its citizens.
” This continued even as the nation has watched Arab doctors and nurses working ceaselessly with their Jewish counterparts to fight the virus .
Gantz , in negotiating with Odeh , implicitly accorded Israel ’ s Arab minority an unprecedented public @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , he seemed to yank it away .
One member of his faction , the Druze Arab journalist Gadeer Kamal-Mreeh , immediately repudiated him .
She had come to politics to replace , not join , a “ racist government , ” she said .
If Gantz needed a reminder of those stakes , he got it last week , when Kan , the publicly funded state media corporation , fired Lucy Aharish , a popular Arab-Israeli journalist who had famously acculturated into Hebrew civil society , becoming the first Muslim Arab-Israeli to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ channel .
In 2015 , she was one of twelve citizens chosen to light a torch in the annual Independence Day celebrations , on Mount Herzl .
Three years later , sloughing off rightist bigotry , she married the popular Jewish-Israeli actor Tzachi Halevy .
In early March , the thirty-nine-year-old Aharish contracted with Kan to co-host a daily cultural-affairs program , and it was going well .
Then , Netanyahu used the pretext of the health emergency to suspend the lower courts , postponing his own trial .
A civil-rights organization called @ @ @ @ @ @ @ unprecedented bloc of more than half a million Israelis logged on .
Among those who spoke in defense of Israeli democracy were former heads of the Secret Service and Mossad , and a former Justice of the High Court .
Aharish had been asked to chair the session , and she added an appeal of her own .

For Israelis, a vague feeling of siege is second nature. So the common response to the coronavirus threat—to government exhortations to shelter—has been reasonably stoic. Israelis are more rattled by more than five thousand diagnosed cases portending the collapse of its underfunded health-care system, and by imminent economic paralysis, with more than twenty per cent unemployed and tens of thousands of small businesses and freelancers contemplating bankruptcy. Israelis have already been rattled by three elections in one year, which produced a continued electoral stalemate, a defiant Prime Minister facing trial on corruption charges, and political divisions pitting the claims of democracy against those of “Zionism.” Given all that, it is hard to imagine Israelis being shocked.
But shock is just what Benny Gantz, the leader of Israel’s main opposition party, Blue and White, managed to deliver this past Thursday in the Knesset, Israel’s parliament. Owing to the results of the nation’s most recent election, on March 2nd, Gantz held a Presidential mandate to form the next government. The Knesset was assembled under a High Court order, in spite of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s effort to obstruct it, to elect a new Speaker—one who would not be beholden to Netanyahu. At the last minute, Gantz put himself forward for the job with, of all things, the support of Netanyahu’s rightist bloc, led by the Likud party.
This was Gantz’s first public step in surrendering the mandate and entering an “emergency” government of national unity under Netanyahu; Gantz was duly elected Speaker 74–18. “These are not ordinary days, and they require extraordinary decisions,” he told an eerily vacated Knesset. “I will not compromise on the principles for which more than a million citizens voted.” Joining Gantz in Netanyahu’s government will be Gabi Ashkenazi—like Gantz, a former Army chief of staff, and a founder of Blue and White—and the two prominent members of what’s left of the Labor Party. Blue and White had won thirty-three seats; Gantz would now lead a faction of seventeen members, almost all of whom would be promised ministerial posts, and keep the party’s name.
But Yair Lapid, another Blue and White leader, and Moshe Yaalon, the third former general among the party’s founders, announced that they considered Gantz’s move treachery. Both men have worked for Netanyahu and abhor his deceit and venality. They continue to refuse to serve under an indicted Prime Minister. They will, they say, quit Blue and White and lead the new opposition, with a faction of sixteen members. “Gantz surrendered without a fight and crawled into Netanyahu’s government. He joined the ‘Haredi-extremist bloc.’ ” Lapid said.
Just when to “fold ’em” is never as knowable as Kenny Rogers’s song suggests, but nobody doubted that Netanyahu was holding the stronger hand. He has been playing on public fears of the coronavirus and an imminent lockdown to promote himself. Yet the need for authoritative action was clear. Public estimates suggested that the government would spend itself into a ten-per-cent budget deficit. The coronavirus is spiking in dense ultra-Orthodox communities. Nobody seriously doubted Gantz’s patriotic impulses.
In addition, two Blue and White Knesset members, citing the need for “unity,” had preëmpted Gantz’s formation of a minority government that would be dependent on the Joint List, an alliance of mainly Israeli-Arab parties, led by Ayman Odeh. Gantz reportedly polled voters and saw that, should there be a fourth election, Netanyahu would trounce him. So nobody doubted, either, that some form of national-unity government was inevitable—even that Netanyahu might serve as Prime Minister first, before Gantz rotated in.
What many did doubt was that Gantz would capitulate, just as Blue and White was gaining leverage, to shape the terms of a unity government. With Odeh’s support, Gantz had whipped sixty-one seats in the Knesset, out of a hundred and twenty, and had already gained control over key oversight committees; the High Court had backed up the right to elect a new Speaker, who would be responsible for advancing, or obstructing, all proposed legislation. So Gantz might have proposed legislation that, for example, prohibits an indicted member from serving as Prime Minister. Would Netanyahu force “a fourth election” under the threat that such a law could be passed?
Nor is a unity government really required to deal with the urgent business of the coronavirus crisis. All of Netanyahu’s decisions—about quarantines, oversight of police monitoring, budgeting of disaster spending and taxes—derive from epidemiological and economic models worked up by professionals at the Health and Finance Ministries and the Bank of Israel. The cabinet and the Knesset committees are reviewing and endorsing these decisions irrespective of who runs a particular ministry. On Monday, Netanyahu—himself under quarantine after exposure to an infected adviser—unveiled a twenty-two-billion-dollar package including unemployment benefits and subsidized business loans. Meanwhile, the current Health Minister, the ultra-Orthodox Yaakov Litzman, was “praying and hoping” for deliverance from the virus by the Messiah, who would hopefully arrive, Litzman said, “before Passover, the time of our redemption.”
Most significantly, Gantz was not simply the head of an opposition party but—by default, in the course of three election campaigns—a leader in Israel’s culture war, resisting theocracy and Messianic justifications for the occupation and reproving Netanyahu’s violations of the law, assaults on the press, and self-aggrandizing diplomacy. Gaining leverage in that battle was especially important to Israeli-Arab citizens. It hardly seems arguable, given our times, that an elected leader, backed by a panicked nationalist majority, can, with many small cuts, hollow out a democracy. Netanyahu’s first cuts, for which he was eventually indicted, centered on efforts to use regulatory power to control the press. The unkindest cut has been his yearlong campaign to whip up Zionist disdain for Arabs, posturing as the fierce leader of the Jewish people’s nation-state and fending off the efforts of the Arab minority and Jewish liberals to accept Israel as a “state of its citizens.” This continued even as the nation has watched Arab doctors and nurses working ceaselessly with their Jewish counterparts to fight the virus.
Gantz, in negotiating with Odeh, implicitly accorded Israel’s Arab minority an unprecedented public dignity. Then, in an instant, he seemed to yank it away. One member of his faction, the Druze Arab journalist Gadeer Kamal-Mreeh, immediately repudiated him. She had come to politics to replace, not join, a “racist government,” she said.
If Gantz needed a reminder of those stakes, he got it last week, when Kan, the publicly funded state media corporation, fired Lucy Aharish, a popular Arab-Israeli journalist who had famously acculturated into Hebrew civil society, becoming the first Muslim Arab-Israeli to anchor a newscast on a major television channel. In 2015, she was one of twelve citizens chosen to light a torch in the annual Independence Day celebrations, on Mount Herzl. Three years later, sloughing off rightist bigotry, she married the popular Jewish-Israeli actor Tzachi Halevy.
In early March, the thirty-nine-year-old Aharish contracted with Kan to co-host a daily cultural-affairs program, and it was going well. Then, Netanyahu used the pretext of the health emergency to suspend the lower courts, postponing his own trial. A civil-rights organization called a protest on Facebook, and an unprecedented bloc of more than half a million Israelis logged on. Among those who spoke in defense of Israeli democracy were former heads of the Secret Service and Mossad, and a former Justice of the High Court. Aharish had been asked to chair the session, and she added an appeal of her own.