theintercept--2020-06-30--Supreme Court Upholds Abortion Rights but Leaves the Door Open to New Challenges

five-justice plurality , the U.S. Supreme Court deemed unconstitutional a Louisiana law that would have drastically restricted abortion access .
The fifth vote came from Chief Justice John Roberts , who wrote separately from the court ’ s four more liberal judges to conclude that the case was identical to one resolved in favor of abortion rights just four years ago and that in keeping with that precedent , the Louisiana law must also fall .
“ We are just delighted , ” Nancy Northup , president and CEO of the Center for Reproductive Rights , said on Monday .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ in Louisiana.
” At issue was a 2014 Louisiana law that would have required all abortion providers to have admitting privileges at nearby hospitals .
But abortion is an extremely safe procedure and rarely requires hospitalization .
As such , the doctors who provide abortions have scant opportunities to obtain admitting privileges ; granting privileges is a bureaucratic process and physicians can be denied for a variety of reasons , including if they don ’ t regularly admit patients to the hospital .
In Louisiana , they can be denied precisely because they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to one passed the year before in Texas , which helped lead to the shuttering of half the state ’ s clinics .
( In urging passage of the Louisiana law , supporters gleefully noted the “ tremendous success ” of Texas ’ s law in closing clinics . )
The Texas law was struck down by the Supreme Court in 2016 in a case known as Whole Woman ’ s Health v. Hellerstedt .
That law , the court ruled , had no health or safety benefit for women and provided an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the standard articulated in Whole Woman ’ s Health , the district court in Louisiana blocked the state ’ s law from taking effect .
But the notoriously conservative 5th U.S .
Circuit Court of Appeals subsequently overturned the lower court ’ s ruling , suggesting in an opinion that wildly reinterpreted the facts of the case that Louisiana ’ s law was different in purpose and effect than the Texas law .
The Center for Reproductive Rights appealed to the Supreme Court , which led to this week ’ s opinion .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Whole Woman ’ s Health decision ) , writing for himself and the court ’ s three female justices , concluded that there was no daylight between the Texas and Louisiana laws and that the evidence in the Louisiana case , known as June Medical Services LLC v. Russo , was “ even stronger and more detailed ” than the evidence that led the court to strike down the Texas law .
Despite the assertion of lawmakers — and the Supreme Court ’ s dissenting justices — that the law would actually @ @ @ @ @ @ @ practice it would decimate abortion access , Breyer wrote .
Had the law been allowed to take effect , just a single abortion provider would remain to serve the roughly 10,000 women per year who seek abortion services in Louisiana .
The resulting burdens — including the potential for hundreds of miles of in-state travel — would disproportionately impact poor women , he wrote .
According to Kathaleen Pittman , administrator of Shreveport ’ s Hope Medical Group for Women , most of the clinic ’ s patients already have one or more @ @ @ @ @ @ @ poor or low income .
Four of the court ’ s justices — Clarence Thomas , Samuel Alito , and newcomers Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh — each wrote separately to decry the plurality ’ s arguments .
Alito held firm to the notion that the admitting privileges law would somehow “ protect ” women and suggested that the doctors who brought the suit on behalf of themselves and their patients should not be allowed to do so because they have a conflict of interest : It behooves them to fight to block @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not the women it would protect .
That , of course , presumes that the law would actually provide some safety benefit to women seeking care , which the plurality dismissed .
The five justices also rejected an eleventh-hour bid by Louisiana to have the six years of litigation tossed aside by claiming that alleged conflicts of interest meant that the doctors simply didn ’ t have standing to sue on behalf of patients .
Third-party standing is a longstanding legal doctrine that allows plaintiffs , such as Louisiana ’ s abortion providers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of a third party — here , women in need of abortion — who would otherwise face an impediment to vindicating their own rights .
In abortion-related litigation , this has been accepted practice for nearly 50 years , since individual women have a right to access abortion but lack a meaningful ability to assert that right in court and have their rights upheld in a timely way .
Early on in the June Medical case , Louisiana signaled that it believed third-party standing was appropriate and as such , as far as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , had waived the issue .
But after the case finally made it to the Supreme Court , the state doubled back , claiming that the issue of standing should also be considered .
Though the court didn ’ t have to hear that argument , it ultimately decided it would ; some court watchers suggested that the decision was a nod to Thomas , who has long derided the notion of third-party standing , which he wrote about in his dissent from Whole Woman ’ s Health .
Unsurprisingly , Thomas again @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ Today a majority of the court perpetuates its ill-founded abortion jurisprudence by enjoining a perfectly legitimate state law and doing so without jurisdiction , ” he wrote .
Alito , Gorsuch , and Kavanaugh adopted a similar position , saying that the case should be tossed back and dropped unless an appropriate plaintiff could be attached to it .
Both Breyer and Roberts rejected this notion .
“ In short , ” Breyer wrote , “ the state ’ s strategic waiver and a long line of well-established precedents foreclose its @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” The outcome of the June Medical case proves what most had suspected going in : Without Roberts ’ s intervention , the case would have gone the other way , with both Gorsuch and Kavanaugh voting to upend reproductive rights — which , of course , was among the qualities that got them nominated to the court by Trump in the first place .
Still , Roberts ’ s vote isn ’ t a long-term or far-reaching win , nor does it signal some about-face in his thinking on the right to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ challenge to third-party standing , he didn ’ t embrace Whole Woman ’ s Health , which he dissented from in 2016 .
“ I joined the dissent in Whole Woman ’ s Health and continue to believe that the case was wrongly decided , ” he wrote in his concurrence in June Medical .
“ The question today however is not whether Whole Woman ’ s Health was right or wrong , but whether to adhere to it in deciding the present case.
” Given everything — and especially considering that the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ answer was yes .
“ The legal doctrine of stare decisis requires us , absent special circumstances , to treat like cases alike , ” he wrote .
“ The Louisiana law imposes a burden on access to abortion just as severe as that imposed by the Texas law , for the same reasons .
Therefore , Louisiana ’ s law can not stand under our precedents.
” While Roberts agreed with the four more liberal justices in concluding that the Louisiana law placed an undue burden on abortion access , he simultaneously @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Whole Woman ’ s Health , which expanded on the court ’ s abortion jurisprudence by saying that in determining whether an abortion restriction creates an undue burden on access , the courts should weigh the benefits ( if any ) that a restriction might afford a patient against its burdens .
That ’ s critical , because the test outlined in a seminal 1992 case would ask only if there was an undue burden — meaning a restriction without any purpose other than blocking access to abortion could nonetheless be considered lawful @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t too great .
Consider the example that journalist Mark Joseph Stern posited in his piece in Slate on the June Medical decision : A state requires a one-week waiting period for abortion during which a patient is required to visit the clinic multiple times to view anti-abortion propaganda films .
Under Whole Woman ’ s Health , such a regulation would certainly be blocked because it has no benefit , only burden .
Under Roberts ’ s reasoning , Stern writes , that law might be upheld .
“ Yes , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ path to abortion , compelling them to make repeated visits to a clinic that might be hundreds of miles away and spend hours viewing propaganda , ” he wrote .
“ But it is , at least in theory , a surmountable obstacle ( even though in reality many women would just give up ) .
So , Roberts may well find that it is not an undue burden.
” Indeed , given that the June Medical decision is a plurality , the opinion narrowest in scope is the one that will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that will mean for the dozens of abortion cases currently moving through the system remains unclear .
At present , the Center for Reproductive Rights alone has 30 cases pending in various courts .
Julie Rikelman , who argued the case for the Center for Reproductive Rights before the Supreme Court , told reporters on a press call Monday that while June Medical is certainly a victory , they are still “ concerned ” about Roberts ’ s opinion .
“ He did say at the start of his opinion that he continues @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Health was wrongly decided at the time , ” she said , which is troubling given the “ clear medical consensus that laws such as the admitting privileges law have no health and safety benefits for patients at all.
” Ultimately , she said , “ the opinion muddies the waters a bit and will lead to more litigation rather than less.
” The win in June Medical has not expanded abortion access but merely maintains the status quo in a country where millions of women of reproductive age face serious barriers to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Since 2010 , more than 450 restrictions on abortion have been codified , from outright unconstitutional gestational bans ( most recently in Tennessee , where lawmakers passed a ban in the dead of night amid the ongoing coronavirus pandemic ) to more insidious regulations like the admitting privileges law .
Known as targeted regulations on abortion providers , or TRAP laws , such measures often purport to protect women , though most are based on a moralistic embrace of junk science .
“ We are continuing to battle against many different types of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ There are restrictions that have piled up over the years in many states , especially in the South and Midwest , that impose barrier after barrier after barrier to abortion access , and they ’ re incredibly difficult for people to overcome.
” The best way to overcome the avalanche of burdens , Northup said , is to finally pass the Women ’ s Health Protection Act , a federal measure that would codify reproductive rights .
“ The court ’ s ruling today will not stop those hellbent on banning abortion @ @ @ @ @ @ @ tomorrow and will continue to fight state by state , law by law to protect our constitutional right to abortion , ” Northup said .
“ But we shouldn ’ t have to keep playing whack-a-mole.
” For the moment at least , Kathaleen Pittman and her staff are celebrating .
It ’ s been “ six years — six very , very long years , ” since the case first went to court , she said .
“ To say we ’ re elated hardly begins to come close to what we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ clinic this morning when the ruling came down was “ giddy , ” she said .
For now , all three of the state ’ s clinics remain open for business .

With a five-justice plurality, the U.S. Supreme Court deemed unconstitutional a Louisiana law that would have drastically restricted abortion access.
The fifth vote came from Chief Justice John Roberts, who wrote separately from the court’s four more liberal judges to conclude that the case was identical to one resolved in favor of abortion rights just four years ago and that in keeping with that precedent, the Louisiana law must also fall.
“We are just delighted,” Nancy Northup, president and CEO of the Center for Reproductive Rights, said on Monday. “It’s a great victory in Louisiana.”
At issue was a 2014 Louisiana law that would have required all abortion providers to have admitting privileges at nearby hospitals. But abortion is an extremely safe procedure and rarely requires hospitalization. As such, the doctors who provide abortions have scant opportunities to obtain admitting privileges; granting privileges is a bureaucratic process and physicians can be denied for a variety of reasons, including if they don’t regularly admit patients to the hospital. In Louisiana, they can be denied precisely because they perform abortions.
The law was identical to one passed the year before in Texas, which helped lead to the shuttering of half the state’s clinics. (In urging passage of the Louisiana law, supporters gleefully noted the “tremendous success” of Texas’s law in closing clinics.) The Texas law was struck down by the Supreme Court in 2016 in a case known as Whole Woman’s Health v. Hellerstedt. That law, the court ruled, had no health or safety benefit for women and provided an unconstitutional burden on abortion access.
Applying the standard articulated in Whole Woman’s Health, the district court in Louisiana blocked the state’s law from taking effect. But the notoriously conservative 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals subsequently overturned the lower court’s ruling, suggesting in an opinion that wildly reinterpreted the facts of the case that Louisiana’s law was different in purpose and effect than the Texas law. The Center for Reproductive Rights appealed to the Supreme Court, which led to this week’s opinion.
Justice Stephen Breyer (who also authored the Whole Woman’s Health decision), writing for himself and the court’s three female justices, concluded that there was no daylight between the Texas and Louisiana laws and that the evidence in the Louisiana case, known as June Medical Services LLC v. Russo, was “even stronger and more detailed” than the evidence that led the court to strike down the Texas law. Despite the assertion of lawmakers — and the Supreme Court’s dissenting justices — that the law would actually protect women from unfit providers, in practice it would decimate abortion access, Breyer wrote.
Had the law been allowed to take effect, just a single abortion provider would remain to serve the roughly 10,000 women per year who seek abortion services in Louisiana.
Had the law been allowed to take effect, just a single abortion provider would remain to serve the roughly 10,000 women per year who seek abortion services in Louisiana. The resulting burdens — including the potential for hundreds of miles of in-state travel — would disproportionately impact poor women, he wrote. According to Kathaleen Pittman, administrator of Shreveport’s Hope Medical Group for Women, most of the clinic’s patients already have one or more children at home and 75 percent are poor or low income.
Four of the court’s justices — Clarence Thomas, Samuel Alito, and newcomers Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh — each wrote separately to decry the plurality’s arguments. Alito held firm to the notion that the admitting privileges law would somehow “protect” women and suggested that the doctors who brought the suit on behalf of themselves and their patients should not be allowed to do so because they have a conflict of interest: It behooves them to fight to block the law, he wrote, but not the women it would protect.
That, of course, presumes that the law would actually provide some safety benefit to women seeking care, which the plurality dismissed. The five justices also rejected an eleventh-hour bid by Louisiana to have the six years of litigation tossed aside by claiming that alleged conflicts of interest meant that the doctors simply didn’t have standing to sue on behalf of patients. Third-party standing is a longstanding legal doctrine that allows plaintiffs, such as Louisiana’s abortion providers, to assert in court the rights of a third party — here, women in need of abortion — who would otherwise face an impediment to vindicating their own rights. In abortion-related litigation, this has been accepted practice for nearly 50 years, since individual women have a right to access abortion but lack a meaningful ability to assert that right in court and have their rights upheld in a timely way.
Early on in the June Medical case, Louisiana signaled that it believed third-party standing was appropriate and as such, as far as the Center for Reproductive Rights was concerned, had waived the issue. But after the case finally made it to the Supreme Court, the state doubled back, claiming that the issue of standing should also be considered. Though the court didn’t have to hear that argument, it ultimately decided it would; some court watchers suggested that the decision was a nod to Thomas, who has long derided the notion of third-party standing, which he wrote about in his dissent from Whole Woman’s Health.
Unsurprisingly, Thomas again penned a dissent hammering at third-party standing. “Today a majority of the court perpetuates its ill-founded abortion jurisprudence by enjoining a perfectly legitimate state law and doing so without jurisdiction,” he wrote. Alito, Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh adopted a similar position, saying that the case should be tossed back and dropped unless an appropriate plaintiff could be attached to it. Both Breyer and Roberts rejected this notion. “In short,” Breyer wrote, “the state’s strategic waiver and a long line of well-established precedents foreclose its belated challenge to the plaintiffs’ standing.”
The outcome of the June Medical case proves what most had suspected going in: Without Roberts’s intervention, the case would have gone the other way, with both Gorsuch and Kavanaugh voting to upend reproductive rights — which, of course, was among the qualities that got them nominated to the court by Trump in the first place.
Still, Roberts’s vote isn’t a long-term or far-reaching win, nor does it signal some about-face in his thinking on the right to reproductive autonomy. While he rejected the challenge to third-party standing, he didn’t embrace Whole Woman’s Health, which he dissented from in 2016. “I joined the dissent in Whole Woman’s Health and continue to believe that the case was wrongly decided,” he wrote in his concurrence in June Medical. “The question today however is not whether Whole Woman’s Health was right or wrong, but whether to adhere to it in deciding the present case.”
Given everything — and especially considering that the two state laws are identical — the answer was yes. “The legal doctrine of stare decisis requires us, absent special circumstances, to treat like cases alike,” he wrote. “The Louisiana law imposes a burden on access to abortion just as severe as that imposed by the Texas law, for the same reasons. Therefore, Louisiana’s law cannot stand under our precedents.”
While Roberts agreed with the four more liberal justices in concluding that the Louisiana law placed an undue burden on abortion access, he simultaneously reiterated his disagreement with the holding in Whole Woman’s Health, which expanded on the court’s abortion jurisprudence by saying that in determining whether an abortion restriction creates an undue burden on access, the courts should weigh the benefits (if any) that a restriction might afford a patient against its burdens. That’s critical, because the test outlined in a seminal 1992 case would ask only if there was an undue burden — meaning a restriction without any purpose other than blocking access to abortion could nonetheless be considered lawful if the burden it erected wasn’t too great.
“The court’s ruling today will not stop those hellbent on banning abortion.”
Consider the example that journalist Mark Joseph Stern posited in his piece in Slate on the June Medical decision: A state requires a one-week waiting period for abortion during which a patient is required to visit the clinic multiple times to view anti-abortion propaganda films. Under Whole Woman’s Health, such a regulation would certainly be blocked because it has no benefit, only burden. Under Roberts’s reasoning, Stern writes, that law might be upheld. “Yes, the law would put an obstacle in patients’ path to abortion, compelling them to make repeated visits to a clinic that might be hundreds of miles away and spend hours viewing propaganda,” he wrote. “But it is, at least in theory, a surmountable obstacle (even though in reality many women would just give up). So, Roberts may well find that it is not an undue burden.”
Indeed, given that the June Medical decision is a plurality, the opinion narrowest in scope is the one that will control the law going forward. What that will mean for the dozens of abortion cases currently moving through the system remains unclear. At present, the Center for Reproductive Rights alone has 30 cases pending in various courts.
Julie Rikelman, who argued the case for the Center for Reproductive Rights before the Supreme Court, told reporters on a press call Monday that while June Medical is certainly a victory, they are still “concerned” about Roberts’s opinion. “He did say at the start of his opinion that he continues to believe that Whole Woman’s Health was wrongly decided at the time,” she said, which is troubling given the “clear medical consensus that laws such as the admitting privileges law have no health and safety benefits for patients at all.” Ultimately, she said, “the opinion muddies the waters a bit and will lead to more litigation rather than less.”
The win in June Medical has not expanded abortion access but merely maintains the status quo in a country where millions of women of reproductive age face serious barriers to abortion and other reproductive health care. Since 2010, more than 450 restrictions on abortion have been codified, from outright unconstitutional gestational bans (most recently in Tennessee, where lawmakers passed a ban in the dead of night amid the ongoing coronavirus pandemic) to more insidious regulations like the admitting privileges law. Known as targeted regulations on abortion providers, or TRAP laws, such measures often purport to protect women, though most are based on a moralistic embrace of junk science.
“We are continuing to battle against many different types of abortion restrictions,” Rikelman said. “There are restrictions that have piled up over the years in many states, especially in the South and Midwest, that impose barrier after barrier after barrier to abortion access, and they’re incredibly difficult for people to overcome.”
The best way to overcome the avalanche of burdens, Northup said, is to finally pass the Women’s Health Protection Act, a federal measure that would codify reproductive rights. “The court’s ruling today will not stop those hellbent on banning abortion. We will be back in court tomorrow and will continue to fight state by state, law by law to protect our constitutional right to abortion,” Northup said. “But we shouldn’t have to keep playing whack-a-mole.”
For the moment at least, Kathaleen Pittman and her staff are celebrating. It’s been “six years — six very, very long years,” since the case first went to court, she said. “To say we’re elated hardly begins to come close to what we are feeling.” The atmosphere in the clinic this morning when the ruling came down was “giddy,” she said. For now, all three of the state’s clinics remain open for business.


theintercept--2020-06-29--In Buried Report, U.S. Government Admits Major Failures in Confronting Domestic Terrorism

, President Donald Trump and top advisers like Attorney General William Barr have sought to blame antifa for sporadic violence and rioting during the ongoing Black Lives Matters protests .
With little evidence , Trump even threatened to label antifa , an amorphous left-wing movement opposed to fascism , as a domestic terrorist organization .
But the president ’ s strategy of pinning blame on antifa in quick , broad brushstrokes is undercut not only by constitutional hurdles and conflicting evidence on the ground , but also by a sobering report from his own intelligence officials that calls for an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The analysis from the National Counterterrorism Center , which has not been previously reported , offers an unusually self-critical view of the gaps and weaknesses in combating homegrown terror threats , and it suggests that the focus needs to be on individual actors who break the law , rather than groups .
The report raises troubling questions about the government ’ s ability to head off a major attack from extremists at home .
In stark terms , it depicts a system ill-equipped to deal with the rising threat of domestic extremists because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The report warned bluntly that “ there is no whole-of-government [ domestic terrorism ] threat picture.
” Federal officials can not even agree on what to call violent extremists inside the United States , their efforts are “ rarely integrated , ” and combating the “ potent ” threat is not a top priority in some agencies , said the report , which grew out of a high-level summit of government officials and outside experts last fall .
As a result , intelligence officials are hampered by a “ lack of analytic research @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on in their work , the report said , and that gap in valuable intelligence “ in turn reinforces the lack of policymaker prioritization.
” The six-page report summarized the key takeaways from a highly unusual two-day conference on domestic terrorism organized last September outside Washington , D.C. , by the National Counterterrorism Center , the FBI , and the Department of Homeland Security .
It brought together more than 120 experts on the subject , including officials across the federal government , as well as local law enforcement officers , academics , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who was then the acting director of national intelligence , spoke to the group himself and deemed the event a “ call to action ” to confront the growing domestic terror threat , according to the report .
The Office of the Director of National Intelligence refused to comment on the report , and a spokesperson declined to say what steps intelligence officials had taken in response to the findings .
The report from the counterterrorism center , which is part of the DNI ’ s office , is dated January of this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ office in March .
A number of the outside experts invited to participate the conference said that the government ’ s acknowledgement of shortcomings in identifying domestic extremists was a significant step by an administration that had shown little interest in the problem .
But turnover and tumult among Trump ’ s intelligence advisers make it unclear what changes , if any , may take place as a result of the findings .
“ It ’ s true there ’ s no whole-of-government approach , and that needs to change , ” former @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gave a presentation at the invitation-only conference , said in an interview .
“ If you ’ re going to get serious about thwarting domestic terrorism plots , you ’ re going to have to use more tools than we do.
” The findings come as intelligence officials have been grappling not only with far-right violence connected to the ongoing Black Lives Matter protests , but also with conflicting messages from Trump and his top advisers about the real source of the violence .
began , Trump has tried to cast blame on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lot of radical left , bad people ” for occasional bursts of violence during what have been largely peaceful demonstrations .
Beyond threatening to designate antifa as a terrorist organization — a move constitutional scholars say would likely be illegal — he went so far as to fuel a baseless conspiracy theory about a 75-year-old Buffalo , New York , protester badly hurt by police , accusing the injured man of being a covert “ antifa provocateur.
” Rudy Giuliani , the president ’ s private counsel and personal adviser , blamed “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ communists , and their allies ” for episodes of violence and destruction around the country in an appearance last week on Fox News .
But there is little evidence to back up Trump administration claims that antifa is driving the violence .
Instead , law enforcement officials on the ground point mainly to the far-right groups — principally the “ Boogaloo Boys ” — for stoking violence and rioting .
In Oakland , authorities accused an active-duty Air Force sergeant who declared himself a Boogaloo of ambushing two federal security officers near a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ other .
And in Las Vegas , three men aligned with that same white extremist group — all of them military veterans — were arrested at a protest and charged with plotting to detonate Molotov cocktails and stoke violence among the crowds of protesters .
Even before the Black Lives Matters protests , a string of deadly attacks against minorities by white supremacists — including the rampage last August at a Walmart in El Paso , Texas , which killed 22 people , most of them Latinos — had prompted the FBI and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ domestic extremists .
The agencies put them on a par with foreign-based terrorist groups like the Islamic State and other Islamist extremists , which have been the dominant focus of counterterrorism officials since the September 11 attacks .
One of the most alarming far-right plots emerged just last week , and like several earlier episodes , it involved an American soldier .
Federal prosecutors said that a 22-year-old Army private from Kentucky named Ethan Melzer aligned himself with a violent neo-Nazi group and sent along sensitive military information about deployment schedules to facilitate @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Turkey .
In private chat messages , Meltzer told members of the neo-Nazi group , known as the “ RapeWaffen Division ” or “ Order of the Nine Angles , ” that he wanted to inflict mass casualties and start “ a new war , ” even if it meant he himself might be killed , according to his indictment .
The authorities said that Melzer confessed after his arrest last month and “ declared himself to be a traitor against the United States whose conduct was tantamount to treason.
” Investigators with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have had a confidential source within the neo-Nazi group whom they used to find out about the plot as it was being hatched , according to an unsealed affidavit in the case .
But the broad findings from the National Counterterrorism Center report suggest that authorities could be left in the dark about other extremist plots — and unable to head them off — without wide changes to the system .
Trump himself has shown little inclination to go after domestic extremists , even before the recent racial unrest .
In one of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ there were “ very fine people on both sides ” at the violent neo-Nazi demonstration in 2017 in Charlottesville , Virginia , and after last year ’ s massacre of 49 Muslims at two New Zealand mosques , he rejected the suggestion that white nationalists were a growing global threat , characterizing them instead as “ a small group of people that have very , very serious problems.
” At the same time , his administration gutted funding for an Obama-era program called Countering Violent Extremism , meant to head off the radicalization @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Trump of fanning racial tensions came this weekend , when he retweeted a video from Florida that included a supporter yelling “ White Power !
” at protesters .
The president later took down the post .
“ a lot of us were pleasantly surprised that this conference was convened in the first place — it was overdue , ” said Brian Levin , who runs the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism at California State University in San Bernardino and helped lead a discussion at the event .
“ There @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ‘ I get it . '
” But that message has now become muddled , Levin and other participants said , after the Trump administration fired both Maguire , the acting intelligence chief , and Russ Travers , the acting head of the counterterrorism center , within weeks of each other earlier this year .
Trump was reportedly furious with Maguire — and questioned his loyalty — for allowing an aide to give a classified congressional briefing about Russian meddling in the 2020 election .
Darryl Johnson , a former senior analyst @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in an interview he was optimistic after taking part in the conference that federal officials were determined to develop a more thorough approach to domestic terrorism .
But with the recent changeover among intelligence officials , “ we ’ re back to square one , spinning our wheels , ” he said .
Johnson , who now runs his own threat-analysis firm , authored a report at DHS in 2009 on the rising threat of right-wing extremism , but the Obama administration retracted it after a fierce backlash from Republicans .
He was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ efforts to develop a common “ lexicon ” to describe political extremists and their ideologies , but that , too , was scuttled .
Johnson said it is clear to him that intelligence officials today are still missing comprehensive and valuable data on violent extremists , even as the threat has risen .
“ So if you ’ re not collecting data , ” he asked , “ how can you have any kind of analysis of what the threat is ?
” Legal conflicts have hindered the effort , as well .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ used terrorism laws on the books to charge violent extremists in the United States connected to Islamic or foreign terror organizations , but they have applied the terrorism label much less often when it comes to domestic attacks involving young white , American-born men rather than Muslims of Middle Eastern heritage .
The intelligence report alluded to the dual treatment , saying that the government ’ s criteria for publicly labeling attacks as “ domestic terrorism ” is “ opaque and inconsistent.
” It said that “ the U.S. government needs to find @ @ @ @ @ @ @ being transparent with the public about how [ domestic terrorism ] definitions are derived , defined , and used.
” “ Fusion ” centers in each state now bring together local and federal officials to identify public safety and terrorism threats .
But these types of cooperative efforts remain fractured , with partners working at “ cross-purposes , ” the report said , and it encouraged federal officials to work more closely with local law enforcement agencies nationwide and with private technology companies , which “ are emerging as the dominant funder of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ tool that officials highlighted was identifying locales with “ the greatest amount of internet searches related to white supremacy.
” Such tactics carry legal risks , however , because of free speech rights and civil liberties safeguards .
For instance , designating a group inside the United States as a “ domestic terrorism ” organization — as Trump threatened to do with antifa — “ could be perceived as government overreach and/or unconstitutional , ” the report said .
The FBI , in particular , has a long history of improperly harassing and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the guise of national security , most notoriously against civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. in the 1960s under then-Director J. Edgar Hoover .
Some officials at the conference argued for trying to expand current laws to carve out a new criminal statute specific to domestic terrorism , bringing more legal powers with it .
But Heidi Beirich , a longtime specialist on domestic extremism , argued at the meeting that while federal officials should be focusing more resources on violent white supremacists , new domestic terror laws are unnecessary and could @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you increase the powers of federal agencies , it can boomerang back and hit activists and marginalized groups , and it doesn ’ t hit the intended target , ” Beirich , who recently co-founded an advocacy group called the Global Project Against Hate and Extremism , said in an interview .
Beirich said the weaknesses that federal officials acknowledged regarding domestic extremists could have been “ a turning point , ” but she now worries that they will come to nothing because of a lack of political will .
“ The threat @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on , ” Beirich said .
“ The next mass attack is virtually assured , and there ’ ll be nobody who saw it coming .
”

For weeks , President Donald Trump and top advisers like Attorney General William Barr have sought to blame antifa for sporadic violence and rioting during the ongoing Black Lives Matters protests. With little evidence, Trump even threatened to label antifa, an amorphous left-wing movement opposed to fascism, as a domestic terrorist organization.
But the president’s strategy of pinning blame on antifa in quick, broad brushstrokes is undercut not only by constitutional hurdles and conflicting evidence on the ground, but also by a sobering report from his own intelligence officials that calls for an entirely revamped approach to domestic extremism. The analysis from the National Counterterrorism Center, which has not been previously reported, offers an unusually self-critical view of the gaps and weaknesses in combating homegrown terror threats, and it suggests that the focus needs to be on individual actors who break the law, rather than groups.
The report raises troubling questions about the government’s ability to head off a major attack from extremists at home. In stark terms, it depicts a system ill-equipped to deal with the rising threat of domestic extremists because of splintered approaches by different agencies.
The report depicts a system ill-equipped to deal with the rising threat of domestic extremists because of splintered approaches by different agencies.
The report warned bluntly that “there is no whole-of-government [domestic terrorism] threat picture.” Federal officials cannot even agree on what to call violent extremists inside the United States, their efforts are “rarely integrated,” and combating the “potent” threat is not a top priority in some agencies, said the report, which grew out of a high-level summit of government officials and outside experts last fall.
As a result, intelligence officials are hampered by a “lack of analytic research” and formal threat assessments to draw on in their work, the report said, and that gap in valuable intelligence “in turn reinforces the lack of policymaker prioritization.”
The six-page report summarized the key takeaways from a highly unusual two-day conference on domestic terrorism organized last September outside Washington, D.C., by the National Counterterrorism Center, the FBI, and the Department of Homeland Security. It brought together more than 120 experts on the subject, including officials across the federal government, as well as local law enforcement officers, academics, and private-sector analysts.
Joseph Maguire, who was then the acting director of national intelligence, spoke to the group himself and deemed the event a “call to action” to confront the growing domestic terror threat, according to the report.
The Office of the Director of National Intelligence refused to comment on the report, and a spokesperson declined to say what steps intelligence officials had taken in response to the findings. The report from the counterterrorism center, which is part of the DNI’s office, is dated January of this year and was posted online by the office in March.
A number of the outside experts invited to participate the conference said that the government’s acknowledgement of shortcomings in identifying domestic extremists was a significant step by an administration that had shown little interest in the problem. But turnover and tumult among Trump’s intelligence advisers make it unclear what changes, if any, may take place as a result of the findings.
“It’s true there’s no whole-of-government approach, and that needs to change,” former Justice Department official Mary McCord, who gave a presentation at the invitation-only conference, said in an interview. “If you’re going to get serious about thwarting domestic terrorism plots, you’re going to have to use more tools than we do.”
The findings come as intelligence officials have been grappling not only with far-right violence connected to the ongoing Black Lives Matter protests, but also with conflicting messages from Trump and his top advisers about the real source of the violence.
Since the protests began, Trump has tried to cast blame on antifa and what he called “a lot of radical left, bad people” for occasional bursts of violence during what have been largely peaceful demonstrations. Beyond threatening to designate antifa as a terrorist organization — a move constitutional scholars say would likely be illegal — he went so far as to fuel a baseless conspiracy theory about a 75-year-old Buffalo, New York, protester badly hurt by police, accusing the injured man of being a covert “antifa provocateur.”
Rudy Giuliani, the president’s private counsel and personal adviser, blamed “antifa, Black Lives Matter, the communists, and their allies” for episodes of violence and destruction around the country in an appearance last week on Fox News.
Rudy Giuliani blamed “antifa, Black Lives Matter, the communists, and their allies” for episodes of violence and destruction around the country.
Barr, meanwhile, declared at the very start of the protests that “the violence instigated and carried out by antifa and other similar groups in connection with the rioting is domestic terrorism and will be treated accordingly.” He announced on Friday that he was creating a federal task force to confront “anti-government extremists engaged in indefensible acts of violence designed to undermine public order.” He again pointed the finger at antifa, but this time, he also named a far-right group: supporters of the so-called Boogaloo movement, a white extremist group that envisions a coming “civil war.”
Photo: Michael Dwyer/AP
But there is little evidence to back up Trump administration claims that antifa is driving the violence. Instead, law enforcement officials on the ground point mainly to the far-right groups — principally the “Boogaloo Boys” — for stoking violence and rioting.
In Oakland, authorities accused an active-duty Air Force sergeant who declared himself a Boogaloo of ambushing two federal security officers near a protest, killing one and wounding the other. And in Las Vegas, three men aligned with that same white extremist group — all of them military veterans — were arrested at a protest and charged with plotting to detonate Molotov cocktails and stoke violence among the crowds of protesters.
Even before the Black Lives Matters protests, a string of deadly attacks against minorities by white supremacists — including the rampage last August at a Walmart in El Paso, Texas, which killed 22 people, most of them Latinos — had prompted the FBI and DHS to elevate the threat posed by domestic extremists. The agencies put them on a par with foreign-based terrorist groups like the Islamic State and other Islamist extremists, which have been the dominant focus of counterterrorism officials since the September 11 attacks.
One of the most alarming far-right plots emerged just last week, and like several earlier episodes, it involved an American soldier.
Federal prosecutors said that a 22-year-old Army private from Kentucky named Ethan Melzer aligned himself with a violent neo-Nazi group and sent along sensitive military information about deployment schedules to facilitate an attack on his own unit in Turkey. In private chat messages, Meltzer told members of the neo-Nazi group, known as the “RapeWaffen Division” or “Order of the Nine Angles,” that he wanted to inflict mass casualties and start “a new war,” even if it meant he himself might be killed, according to his indictment. The authorities said that Melzer confessed after his arrest last month and “declared himself to be a traitor against the United States whose conduct was tantamount to treason.”
Investigators with the FBI and the military appear to have had a confidential source within the neo-Nazi group whom they used to find out about the plot as it was being hatched, according to an unsealed affidavit in the case.
But the broad findings from the National Counterterrorism Center report suggest that authorities could be left in the dark about other extremist plots — and unable to head them off — without wide changes to the system.
Trump himself has shown little inclination to go after domestic extremists, even before the recent racial unrest. In one of his most notorious proclamations, he said there were “very fine people on both sides” at the violent neo-Nazi demonstration in 2017 in Charlottesville, Virginia, and after last year’s massacre of 49 Muslims at two New Zealand mosques, he rejected the suggestion that white nationalists were a growing global threat, characterizing them instead as “a small group of people that have very, very serious problems.” At the same time, his administration gutted funding for an Obama-era program called Countering Violent Extremism, meant to head off the radicalization of Americans.
The latest accusations against Trump of fanning racial tensions came this weekend, when he retweeted a video from Florida that included a supporter yelling “White Power!” at protesters. The president later took down the post.
Given the administration’s record, “a lot of us were pleasantly surprised that this conference was convened in the first place — it was overdue,” said Brian Levin, who runs the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism at California State University in San Bernardino and helped lead a discussion at the event. “There was a message from the top saying, ‘I get it.'”
But that message has now become muddled, Levin and other participants said, after the Trump administration fired both Maguire, the acting intelligence chief, and Russ Travers, the acting head of the counterterrorism center, within weeks of each other earlier this year. Trump was reportedly furious with Maguire — and questioned his loyalty — for allowing an aide to give a classified congressional briefing about Russian meddling in the 2020 election.
Darryl Johnson, a former senior analyst on far-right extremism at DHS, said in an interview he was optimistic after taking part in the conference that federal officials were determined to develop a more thorough approach to domestic terrorism. But with the recent changeover among intelligence officials, “we’re back to square one, spinning our wheels,” he said.
Johnson, who now runs his own threat-analysis firm, authored a report at DHS in 2009 on the rising threat of right-wing extremism, but the Obama administration retracted it after a fierce backlash from Republicans. He was also involved in DHS’s internal efforts to develop a common “lexicon” to describe political extremists and their ideologies, but that, too, was scuttled.
Johnson said it is clear to him that intelligence officials today are still missing comprehensive and valuable data on violent extremists, even as the threat has risen. “So if you’re not collecting data,” he asked, “how can you have any kind of analysis of what the threat is?”
“When you increase the powers of federal agencies, it can boomerang back and hit activists and marginalized groups, and it doesn’t hit the intended target.”
Legal conflicts have hindered the effort, as well.
For decades, federal prosecutors have commonly used terrorism laws on the books to charge violent extremists in the United States connected to Islamic or foreign terror organizations, but they have applied the terrorism label much less often when it comes to domestic attacks involving young white, American-born men rather than Muslims of Middle Eastern heritage.
The intelligence report alluded to the dual treatment, saying that the government’s criteria for publicly labeling attacks as “domestic terrorism” is “opaque and inconsistent.” It said that “the U.S. government needs to find a way to increase public trust by being transparent with the public about how [domestic terrorism] definitions are derived, defined, and used.”
“Fusion” centers in each state now bring together local and federal officials to identify public safety and terrorism threats. But these types of cooperative efforts remain fractured, with partners working at “cross-purposes,” the report said, and it encouraged federal officials to work more closely with local law enforcement agencies nationwide and with private technology companies, which “are emerging as the dominant funder of research on violent extremism.” One open-source tool that officials highlighted was identifying locales with “the greatest amount of internet searches related to white supremacy.”
Such tactics carry legal risks, however, because of free speech rights and civil liberties safeguards. For instance, designating a group inside the United States as a “domestic terrorism” organization — as Trump threatened to do with antifa — “could be perceived as government overreach and/or unconstitutional,” the report said.
The FBI, in particular, has a long history of improperly harassing and spying on political opponents and activists under the guise of national security, most notoriously against civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. in the 1960s under then-Director J. Edgar Hoover.
Some officials at the conference argued for trying to expand current laws to carve out a new criminal statute specific to domestic terrorism, bringing more legal powers with it. But Heidi Beirich, a longtime specialist on domestic extremism, argued at the meeting that while federal officials should be focusing more resources on violent white supremacists, new domestic terror laws are unnecessary and could trample on civil liberties.
“When you increase the powers of federal agencies, it can boomerang back and hit activists and marginalized groups, and it doesn’t hit the intended target,” Beirich, who recently co-founded an advocacy group called the Global Project Against Hate and Extremism, said in an interview.
Beirich said the weaknesses that federal officials acknowledged regarding domestic extremists could have been “a turning point,” but she now worries that they will come to nothing because of a lack of political will.
“The threat continues, and we remain with blinders on,” Beirich said. “The next mass attack is virtually assured, and there’ll be nobody who saw it coming.”


theintercept--2020-07-01--K-Pop Fans Are Getting Involved in U.S. Politics. Are They Activists?

The glorification of K-pop fandom among liberal political interests and media , writes Abby Ohlheiser in MIT Technology Review , “ means that K-pop stans and TikTok teens are fast becoming to liberals what 4chan is to older Trump supporters : an army of anonymous internet warriors they love to praise but don ’ t really understand.
” The coordination was hailed in the media as a surprising and new phenomenon , and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez , D-N.Y. , called K-pop fans “ allies ” for their contribution in sabotaging the rally attendance .
But K-pop fans , while extremely @ @ @ @ @ @ @ We can expect to see more fans continuing to take action online and advocate for issues they care about , whether it ’ s the environment or mental health awareness or Black Lives Matter ; initiatives have gotten significant support thanks to fans using their networks to encourage others to donate .
But their activism won ’ t easily be harnessed to anyone ’ s agenda — and the fandom itself is dealing with internal issues of harassment and racism .
Even now , look under # ItsOkayToBeRacist , which was trending last @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Korean artists like V of the seven-member boy band BTS ( Bulletproof Boy Scouts , in English ) , or Han from the group Stray Kids .
This week , K-pop fans continue to obfuscate # AllLivesMatter with fancams of j-hope of BTS and the girl group Red Velvet , to give a few examples .
Among the most visible and widely coordinated effort in previous weeks was the # MatchAMillion campaign , in which BTS fans , which call themselves ARMYs , matched BTS ’ s $ 1 million donation to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 24 hours .
( Disclosure : The author of this article also participated in # MatchAMillion . )
Most recently , K-pop fans and TikTok teens were among those who reserved tickets to Donald Trump ’ s rally in Tulsa , Oklahoma , last weekend , only to not show up .
In the following days and weeks , fans flooded right-wing hashtags on Twitter like # WhiteLivesMatter and # WhiteOutWednesday with fancams , drowning out any serious engagement with those hashtags from white supremacists .
As the nationwide protests gained prominence after @ @ @ @ @ @ @ police , fans of Korean pop music , or K-pop , raised eyebrows after jamming an app released by the Dallas Police Department called iWatch Dallas , which was meant to be a portal to submit videos of protesters .
K-pop fans instead flooded the app by submitting “ fancams , ” or videos of performances featuring a particular K-pop star or group .
Within hours , the app was shut down due to what the police department said was “ technical difficulties.
” Supporters wait for the start of a campaign rally @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on June 20 , 2020 , in Tulsa , Okla .
The Tulsa rally wasn ’ t the first time K-pop fans have used their online presence to make a political splash .
Late last year in Chile , as protests against the rising cost of living and police brutality continued for months , the Chilean government released a “ Big Data ” report that directly cites K-pop fans as “ foreign influence ” for fueling the protests .
Protesters in Chile and Algeria attended demonstrations with signs containing K-pop memes , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like NCT DREAM and Girls ’ Generation for their own protest slogans .
In the U.S. , where the K-pop fandom is very diverse , fan practices have often centered around race — and racism in the music industry .
In May 2018 , BTS fans spread # StreamFakeLoveToEndTrumpsAmerica , referring to a new release by the group at the time , to make BTS chart higher than Post Malone , who simultaneously released new music .
Fans cited this as a way to push back against a music industry that elevates mostly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ long pointed out how BTS does not get airtime on the radio in the U.S. , despite the group ’ s global popularity , because of the industry ’ s apparent reluctance to have a boy band singing in Korean .
As protests grew in Minneapolis over Floyd ’ s killing , fans were divided over how much their networks should try to co-opt the online conversation .
Some fans thought K-pop artists should speak up in support of Black Lives Matter , citing how much of the fandom consists of BIPOC , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Black music .
Others argued that pushing K-pop stars , also referred to as “ idols , ” to make statements could minimize BLM as a trend , and take attention away from injustices happening in African American communities .
Several K-pop groups — groups that generally avoid making direct political statements — ended up vocalizing support for the movement .
Artists like BTS , Tiger JK , Tiffany Young of Girls ’ Generation , and several others all made statements in support of Black Lives Matter on their social media accounts .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ make a video statement in support .
Daezy Agbakoba was among the first BTS fans to encourage the fandom community match BTS ’ s donation .
“ We ’ re normally very quick to mobilize , ” Agbakoba said of BTS fandom online , “ because we ’ re used to being quick when it comes to supporting BTS whenever they drop new releases.
” Fans were then able to take advantage of the networks they were already using to disseminate information about anti-Black racism to their international peers , says Candace Epps-Robertson @ @ @ @ @ @ @ UNC-Chapel Hill who researches BTS fandom .
Several fan accounts shared videos of police violence against protesters , and spread the word on a # StreamforBLM party to raise bail funds .
“ When there was concerted effort being made to help trend # BlackLivesMatter , there was work being done in the fandom to share resources about race in America and educate others about why this issue needs to be recognized globally , ” she said .
“ I saw efforts made by some [ Korean fans ] who were trying to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ their followers more context for what was happening.
” especially for black fans , queer fans , and other fans who come from marginalized groups , is a medium through which to celebrate one ’ s identity .
“ American media ’ s surprise comes from their lack of knowledge of who is actually in the fandom , ” says Nykeah Parham , a researcher on African Asian history and K-pop fandom .
This past week , # BlackARMYBlockParty and # BlackARMYSlumberParty were trending , with Black BTS fans posting memes and selfies @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
But , like many other large groups on social media , some groups of fans have been responsible for online harassment and doxxing .
Black fans say they have faced racism and harassment in digital fan spaces , while queer fans have been doxxed .
Miranda Ruth Larsen , a fan studies scholar and Ph.D. candidate at the University of Tokyo , says that toxic “ stan ” culture , involving fans that reject critical engagement with K-pop , is the cause of bullying , harassment , and dog-piling on Twitter .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ are the same ones used to ‘ rally the troops ’ on Twitter against an ‘ anti ’ or anyone deemed a target.
” The target , Larsen says , “ could be a fan that said something , someone from the industry , or even idols themselves .
It ’ s a skill set , and one that isn ’ t always used positively.
” In fan spaces generally , “ online attacking and smear campaigns against each other ’ s artists is very common , ” said Jeeheng Lee , author @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Culture ” and professor of film studies at Chung-Ang University in Seoul .
“ So to protect their artists , fandom has developed their tactics ” — tactics that include hashtag campaigning , voting culture , streaming encouragement , and thread campaigns .
While there ’ s no doubt that the flooding of the iWatch Dallas app with fancams prevented the police from using facial recognition technology to arrest protesters , the individual act of posting fancams can be a superficial one .
“ Much of the involvement is also lip service because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it harder for BIPOC fans ” to continue talking about the challenges they face in fan circles , said Larsen , “ as if this short period of engagement has rectified K-pop fandom ’ s and the K-pop industry ’ s glaring issues with racism.
” of the Tulsa rally , the Lincoln Project , a chiefly Republican PAC dedicated to preventing Trump ’ s reelection in 2020 , has expressed interest in knowing about K-pop fans , and the Biden War Room , a grassroots organization seeking to get Joe Biden elected @ @ @ @ @ @ @ fans in “ fighting the good fight online.
” As a result , some have expressed fears of fandoms being co-opted into certain political interests .
Agbakoba says , “ At the end of the day , we ’ re just a bunch of music fans like many other fandoms .
I would rather not have outsiders repurpose our role on social media as collective modern day activists.
” If this current moment has shown us anything , K-pop fandom is merely the glue that has brought various people who share a common @ @ @ @ @ @ @ matter to them .
It ’ s an effective glue , but in order to measure how fans might continue to make impact going forward , fans themselves say that there must be a reckoning with racism , harassment , and dog-piling .
In spite of this , fans with strong political convictions and those passionate about social good causes are growing in influence online .
After seeing the # MatchAMillion campaign go viral , Agbakoba says , “ I ’ m optimistic about what our fandom can do .
… We are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ credit for .
”

As the nationwide protests gained prominence after George Floyd’s murder by Minneapolis police, fans of Korean pop music, or K-pop, raised eyebrows after jamming an app released by the Dallas Police Department called iWatch Dallas, which was meant to be a portal to submit videos of protesters. K-pop fans instead flooded the app by submitting “fancams,” or videos of performances featuring a particular K-pop star or group. Within hours, the app was shut down due to what the police department said was “technical difficulties.”
In the following days and weeks, fans flooded right-wing hashtags on Twitter like #WhiteLivesMatter and #WhiteOutWednesday with fancams, drowning out any serious engagement with those hashtags from white supremacists.
Most recently, K-pop fans and TikTok teens were among those who reserved tickets to Donald Trump’s rally in Tulsa, Oklahoma, last weekend, only to not show up.
Even now, look under #ItsOkayToBeRacist, which was trending last week, and you will find fancams of Korean artists like V of the seven-member boy band BTS (Bulletproof Boy Scouts, in English), or Han from the group Stray Kids. This week, K-pop fans continue to obfuscate #AllLivesMatter with fancams of j-hope of BTS and the girl group Red Velvet, to give a few examples. Among the most visible and widely coordinated effort in previous weeks was the #MatchAMillion campaign, in which BTS fans, which call themselves ARMYs, matched BTS’s $1 million donation to organizations supporting Black Lives Matter in about 24 hours. (Disclosure: The author of this article also participated in #MatchAMillion.)
The coordination was hailed in the media as a surprising and new phenomenon, and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, D-N.Y., called K-pop fans “allies” for their contribution in sabotaging the rally attendance. But K-pop fans, while extremely well-organized, are hardly a monolith. We can expect to see more fans continuing to take action online and advocate for issues they care about, whether it’s the environment or mental health awareness or Black Lives Matter; initiatives have gotten significant support thanks to fans using their networks to encourage others to donate. But their activism won’t easily be harnessed to anyone’s agenda — and the fandom itself is dealing with internal issues of harassment and racism.
The glorification of K-pop fandom among liberal political interests and media, writes Abby Ohlheiser in MIT Technology Review, “means that K-pop stans and TikTok teens are fast becoming to liberals what 4chan is to older Trump supporters: an army of anonymous internet warriors they love to praise but don’t really understand.”
Supporters wait for the start of a campaign rally for Donald Trump at the BOK Center on June 20, 2020, in Tulsa, Okla. Photo: Win McNamee/Getty Images
The Tulsa rally wasn’t the first time K-pop fans have used their online presence to make a political splash. Late last year in Chile, as protests against the rising cost of living and police brutality continued for months, the Chilean government released a “Big Data” report that directly cites K-pop fans as “foreign influence” for fueling the protests. Protesters in Chile and Algeria attended demonstrations with signs containing K-pop memes, and even reappropriated lyrics from songs by groups like NCT DREAM and Girls’ Generation for their own protest slogans.
In the U.S., where the K-pop fandom is very diverse, fan practices have often centered around race — and racism in the music industry. In May 2018, BTS fans spread #StreamFakeLoveToEndTrumpsAmerica, referring to a new release by the group at the time, to make BTS chart higher than Post Malone, who simultaneously released new music. Fans cited this as a way to push back against a music industry that elevates mostly white musicians. BTS fans have also long pointed out how BTS does not get airtime on the radio in the U.S., despite the group’s global popularity, because of the industry’s apparent reluctance to have a boy band singing in Korean.
As protests grew in Minneapolis over Floyd’s killing, fans were divided over how much their networks should try to co-opt the online conversation. Some fans thought K-pop artists should speak up in support of Black Lives Matter, citing how much of the fandom consists of BIPOC, and K-pop itself draws much influence from Black music. Others argued that pushing K-pop stars, also referred to as “idols,” to make statements could minimize BLM as a trend, and take attention away from injustices happening in African American communities.
Several K-pop groups — groups that generally avoid making direct political statements — ended up vocalizing support for the movement. Artists like BTS, Tiger JK, Tiffany Young of Girls’ Generation, and several others all made statements in support of Black Lives Matter on their social media accounts. Monsta X was the first group to make a video statement in support.
Daezy Agbakoba was among the first BTS fans to encourage the fandom community match BTS’s donation. “We’re normally very quick to mobilize,” Agbakoba said of BTS fandom online, “because we’re used to being quick when it comes to supporting BTS whenever they drop new releases.”
Fans were then able to take advantage of the networks they were already using to disseminate information about anti-Black racism to their international peers, says Candace Epps-Robertson, an assistant professor of English at UNC-Chapel Hill who researches BTS fandom. Several fan accounts shared videos of police violence against protesters, and spread the word on a #StreamforBLM party to raise bail funds.
“When there was concerted effort being made to help trend #BlackLivesMatter, there was work being done in the fandom to share resources about race in America and educate others about why this issue needs to be recognized globally,” she said. “I saw efforts made by some [Korean fans] who were trying to translate and share these pieces to give their followers more context for what was happening.”
K-pop fandom, especially for black fans, queer fans, and other fans who come from marginalized groups, is a medium through which to celebrate one’s identity. “American media’s surprise comes from their lack of knowledge of who is actually in the fandom,” says Nykeah Parham, a researcher on African Asian history and K-pop fandom.
This past week, #BlackARMYBlockParty and #BlackARMYSlumberParty were trending, with Black BTS fans posting memes and selfies that celebrate Blackness in the fandom community.
But, like many other large groups on social media, some groups of fans have been responsible for online harassment and doxxing. Black fans say they have faced racism and harassment in digital fan spaces, while queer fans have been doxxed.
Miranda Ruth Larsen, a fan studies scholar and Ph.D. candidate at the University of Tokyo, says that toxic “stan” culture, involving fans that reject critical engagement with K-pop, is the cause of bullying, harassment, and dog-piling on Twitter. “The tactics used for mobilization efforts are the same ones used to ‘rally the troops’ on Twitter against an ‘anti’ or anyone deemed a target.” The target, Larsen says, “could be a fan that said something, someone from the industry, or even idols themselves. It’s a skill set, and one that isn’t always used positively.”
In fan spaces generally, “online attacking and smear campaigns against each other’s artists is very common,” said Jeeheng Lee, author of the book “BTS and ARMY Culture” and professor of film studies at Chung-Ang University in Seoul. “So to protect their artists, fandom has developed their tactics” — tactics that include hashtag campaigning, voting culture, streaming encouragement, and thread campaigns.
While there’s no doubt that the flooding of the iWatch Dallas app with fancams prevented the police from using facial recognition technology to arrest protesters, the individual act of posting fancams can be a superficial one. “Much of the involvement is also lip service because the positive media attention is ironically making it harder for BIPOC fans” to continue talking about the challenges they face in fan circles, said Larsen, “as if this short period of engagement has rectified K-pop fandom’s and the K-pop industry’s glaring issues with racism.”
In the aftermath of the Tulsa rally, the Lincoln Project, a chiefly Republican PAC dedicated to preventing Trump’s reelection in 2020, has expressed interest in knowing about K-pop fans, and the Biden War Room, a grassroots organization seeking to get Joe Biden elected for president, has solicited help from fans in “fighting the good fight online.” As a result, some have expressed fears of fandoms being co-opted into certain political interests. Agbakoba says, “At the end of the day, we’re just a bunch of music fans like many other fandoms. I would rather not have outsiders repurpose our role on social media as collective modern day activists.”
If this current moment has shown us anything, K-pop fandom is merely the glue that has brought various people who share a common interest to take action on things that matter to them. It’s an effective glue, but in order to measure how fans might continue to make impact going forward, fans themselves say that there must be a reckoning with racism, harassment, and dog-piling.
In spite of this, fans with strong political convictions and those passionate about social good causes are growing in influence online. After seeing the #MatchAMillion campaign go viral, Agbakoba says, “I’m optimistic about what our fandom can do. … We are far more powerful than we give ourselves credit for.”


theintercept--2020-07-02--Seattle's CHOP Went Out With Both a Bang and a Whimper

been brutalized by police for every generation , ” said Christopher Hunt , standing last week in what was then the Capitol Hill Organized Protest , or CHOP , an occupation-style protest in Seattle that was dispersed by authorities on Wednesday .
When asked to explain the police brutality , Hunt ’ s voice rose .
The 53-year-old Seattle native pointed to a scar above his right eye .
“ When I was 21 , the police hit me upside the head with a baton .
Three stitches , ” he said , gesturing toward the East Precinct , a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was beaten .
“ My son was beat up in 2010 by police , ” he went on .
“ My mom was beat up by Seattle police during the civil rights movement because her husband was a Black man .
That sounds generational to me.
” Hunt was among the few protesters still occupying the CHOP during the last weekend of June .
Seattle Mayor Jenny Durkan ordered authorities to vacate the East Precinct police department on June 8 , weeks before I stood with Hunt near the boarded-up building .
On @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The occupation was dismantled and 13 people were injured as police retook the East Precinct .
The last days of the protest told the story of an attempt to build a long-term occupation against police brutality – an outcropping of the nationwide Black Lives Matter protests that erupted with the Minneapolis police ’ s killing of George Floyd .
While the CHOP had lived , the East Precinct was renamed the “ Seattle People Department ” and decorated with signs , memorials , and graffiti dedicated to the movement .
But , by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dwindled considerably .
“ When we started , there were thousands out here , ” said a man with blond-tipped dreadlocks and a “ Friends ” shirt , standing on a concrete block in front of the precinct speaking into a megaphone .
He swept his arm across a smattering of people : “ Now , I can count everyone.
” Durkan ’ s standing was further tarnished by repeated police assaults on protesters and tear-gassing residents inside their homes in Capitol Hill , which has a history of queer and trans activism @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to resign or be impeached over the police violence and previous killings of Black Seattleites , leading thousands to sign petitions in favor of her removal and garnering support from three of nine city council members .
Kshama Sawant , the socialist council member who represents Capitol Hill , said Durkan “ overreached ” after disruptive protests began May 29 .
Instead of allowing protesters to march past the precinct , Sawant said , “ police threw hundreds of flash bangs , attacked the medics tents , tear-gassed the entire neighborhood .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ movement .
Hundreds of activists , led by Black and brown youth , decided to challenge the intimidation of police at the East Precinct.
” It was similar , Sawant noted , to historical moments when the governments ’ reflex to escalate violence against protests created more support rather than crushing them , such as May 1968 in France , the Arab Spring in Cairo ’ s Tahrir Square in 2011 , or Occupy Wall Street in New York later that year .
Finding herself in such a moment , Durkan told police @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wishes of her police chief .
Seattle protests were Mark Anthony ’ s baptism into protest activism .
He had been on the streets for barely a week when on June 8 , the 32-year-old former brand ambassador and tour guide for Boeing headed to Capitol Hill .
“ I drove the entire way with some very choice words for the police , ” he said .
“ I was disappointed when I got here , and they were gone.
” Anthony , who became a leader in the CHOP , said , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the first tent ” — founding the Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone that night .
The early vibe was like a festival .
“ It was a cross between Burning Man and Coachella , ” one visitor said .
Just as historic protests after Floyd ’ s death served as a release valve for deep rage against racist policing and relief from months of pandemic lockdown , the CHAZ was a flowering of hope that drew thousands in a season of death .
( Organizers later changed the name to CHOP , saying that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ keep the focus on Black Lives Matter . )
Artists painted an enormous Black Lives Matter street mural that popped with life .
DJs hosted late-night dance parties .
Documentaries such as “ Paris is Burning ” and “ 13th ” were screened outdoors .
Native American drumming circles cohabited with meditation sessions .
Plots of black earth sprouted leafy greens and placards honoring Black historical figures .
A “ No Cop Co-op ” handed out toothpaste , toilet paper , and other supplies while the Riot Kitchen and Feed the Movement dished @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pastrami ’ reuben wraps and gochujang beef fried rice.
” Families picnicked , social influencers livestreamed , and general assemblies and teach-ins were held regularly .
The miniature society that sprang up was a legacy of a raft of occupation protests over the past years , Occupy Wall Street , Occupy Sandy , and Occupy ICE , in particular .
These movements espoused principles of self-organization and mutual aid , where activists learned how to rapidly set up housing , health care , kitchens , education , child care , free stores , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a very positive energy and people were taking care of each other .
It was like Occupy on steroids , ” said Michael , a member of the now-disbanded security team known as Sentinels , who asked that his last name not be used .
Yet the Occupy movements foundered on a broken society and the individuals it produced .
One veteran organizer involved in New York ’ s Occupy movements , who asked not to be named , said , “ Occupy is outside the authority of existing institutions .
It ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ needy and even pushy , abusive , and exploitive.
” Similar problems dogged the CHOP .
Slate , another Sentinel who did not give a last name , said one self-appointed security person “ pulled handguns on and maced people.
” “ Tourists ” drew considerable ire .
“ We had people flying in from all over because they thought it was a lawless place , a festival , anything goes , ” said Anthony , the CHOP activist .
“ We made the DJs stop at midnight .
We are separating the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who came to party.
” A party was one draw ; others came simply in search of a place .
Homeless Seattleites , whose population has grown in recent years , poured into the CHOP .
“ Of course they are going to come to CHOP , ” said Michael .
“ They got food , a free store , a safe place to sleep and hang out , and there is hope.
” On top of that , he said , “ Free thinkers do drugs , so there ’ s going @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s going to be a market , so people will fight over it.
” He speculated the drug trade attracted local gangs .
By the end of June , with families and tourists having disappeared because of the violence , the park looked like the end stage of many Occupy camps , with scores of people living in tents .
“ It ’ s not a protest , ” said Hunt , the CHOP activist .
“ It ’ s a damn homeless encampment.
” similarities to Occupy Wall Street , there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ less focused on maintaining the occupation itself or providing broad-based social services as essential political work .
Those are the functions of the state , said Anthony , adding , “ I ’ m tired of babysitting .
We are not against social workers , counselors , the fire department .
We are against racist , crooked cops.
” He said they escorted out sexual assaulters and spent hours finding support for those having mental health crises .
Volunteers had to talk down a man threatening to jump from a rooftop .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ never imagined , namely President Donald Trump .
One day after the protest began , he rage-tweeted , “ Domestic Terrorists have taken over Seattle , ” threatening to take the city back by force from “ ugly anarchists.
” The incitement trickled down to Fox News fabricating images of violence in Seattle and racist right-wing media calling a Black activist a “ warlord.
” Others may have taken Trump ’ s words as a call for violence , as has happened before .
The far-right group Proud Boys were caught on video @ @ @ @ @ @ @ One assailant was a notorious brawler , Tusitala “ Tiny ” Toese , who was later arrested for violating his probation .
Despite differences with Occupy , the CHOP faltered for similar reasons .
Movements that start online may capture the imagination with slogans like “ We Are the 99 % ” or “ Follow Black Leadership , ” but they are too flimsy to bridge deep historical divisions .
The all-are-welcome , open organizing form , meanwhile , is too shallow to allow for politics and too prone to manipulation .
One @ @ @ @ @ @ @ meandering speak-outs than disciplined strategy sessions .
“ CHOP is like if Twitter were an actual place .
It ’ s full of different ideologies , perspectives , and pains , and everyone thinks they are right and no one wants to be a follower , ” said Slate .
“ I would hear the term ‘ Black leadership ’ 15 times a day , and no one knew who they were .
There wasn ’ t a group with shared ideas and leadership.
” Hunt , for his part , is angry @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” he said .
“ Everyone is fighting to be a leader because they want to be in the meeting with the mayor and say , ‘ Defund the police and fund my organization.
’ We didn ’ t come out here because nonprofits aren ’ t being funded .
We came out here because cops are killing Black people.
” Those divisions play out in the CHOP .
Both Anthony and Hunt complained that other activists told them that only Black women should speak , not Black men .
On Juneteenth @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the park for Black healing , guarded by white people whose job was to keep other white people out , Anthony said , “ I started tearing down the signs saying ‘ this is a Black-only space.
’ ” He said he felt it was important that many voices be heard .
Another participant said the incident was an example of “ the perils of extreme identity politics.
” Yet others said CHOP often served as a “ performative space for white guilt.
” Durkan and the police , meanwhile , blame @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a product of Seattle ’ s dystopia .
Home to technology behemoths , Amazon and Microsoft , the region has a GDP of $ 392 billion , nearly the size of Nigeria with its 196 million people .
Racial income inequality is extreme .
For every dollar white households in Seattle make , Black households make 40 cents , a spread 25 cents greater than the national average .
Public schools are unequal and segregated .
Soaring rents , homelessness , mental health crises , and incarceration fall heaviest on Black and Indigenous @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was a Sisyphean task to negotiate complex political issues among activists who barely knew each under the glare of national media , pressured by the city and cops , and plagued by violent actors on the fringes .
Yet the activists were able to find some agreement .
They united around three demands : Cut Seattle ’ s $ 409 million police budget by 50 percent , shift funding to historically Black communities , and amnesty for all those arrested in the protests .
The CHOP may not have survived , but its @ @ @ @ @

“My family has been brutalized by police for every generation,” said Christopher Hunt, standing last week in what was then the Capitol Hill Organized Protest, or CHOP, an occupation-style protest in Seattle that was dispersed by authorities on Wednesday. When asked to explain the police brutality, Hunt’s voice rose.
The 53-year-old Seattle native pointed to a scar above his right eye. “When I was 21, the police hit me upside the head with a baton. Three stitches,” he said, gesturing toward the East Precinct, a block away, where he said he was beaten. “My son was beat up in 2010 by police,” he went on. “My mom was beat up by Seattle police during the civil rights movement because her husband was a Black man. That sounds generational to me.”
Hunt was among the few protesters still occupying the CHOP during the last weekend of June. Seattle Mayor Jenny Durkan ordered authorities to vacate the East Precinct police department on June 8, weeks before I stood with Hunt near the boarded-up building. On Wednesday, the day finally came: The occupation was dismantled and 13 people were injured as police retook the East Precinct.
The last days of the protest told the story of an attempt to build a long-term occupation against police brutality – an outcropping of the nationwide Black Lives Matter protests that erupted with the Minneapolis police’s killing of George Floyd. While the CHOP had lived, the East Precinct was renamed the “Seattle People Department” and decorated with signs, memorials, and graffiti dedicated to the movement. But, by its last weekend, the protest had dwindled considerably.
“When we started, there were thousands out here,” said a man with blond-tipped dreadlocks and a “Friends” shirt, standing on a concrete block in front of the precinct speaking into a megaphone. He swept his arm across a smattering of people: “Now, I can count everyone.”
“When we started, there were thousands out here. Now, I can count everyone.”
“We need Black leadership. We need white bodies,” he said. “For white people, it’s easy to get a gun. Get it and tell them if they keep killing Black people, it will be war.” A few murmured hesitantly in approval.
Early that morning, on June 26, the city sent in crews to remove concrete barriers it had installed to reduce the risk of vehicular attacks. The workers retreated after protesters lied down in front of a bulldozer. A call went out for protesters to defend the CHOP. Later in the afternoon, dozens of people milled around the station and in the adjoining Cal Anderson Park.
Durkan had been threatening to end the CHOP for nearly a week. Since June 20, there have been five shootings outside the CHOP that left two people dead and four injured. The violence chased most people away. The protest shrunk to hardcore activists, reporters, security, medics, and cooks for the protest — along with teams of “heavily armed … high-threat private protection” for businesses and residents.
Local gangs were behind the shootings, some people inside the protest said, including the last incident on June 29 in which a 16-year-old was killed. Activists claim that police allowed the violence to seep in by being absent from streets surrounding the CHOP. Nonetheless, Durkan had her opening. On July 1, she issued an order declaring an unlawful assembly, dispatching hundreds of riot police and assault vehicles to clear the CHOP, arresting dozens of protesters. Police Chief Carmen Best chimed in describing the CHOP as “lawless and brutal.”
The CHOP went out with a bang and a whimper. But given anger over police violence, the movement to defund Seattle police is unlikely to dissipate. And the CHOP has spread, inspiring Occupy City Hall in New York that is demanding $1 billion in cuts to the New York Police Department.
CHOP began as an accident. After Minneapolis police killed Floyd, Seattle police responded to protests with more violence. That eroded Durkan’s credibility, a former federal prosecutor.
Police allegedly maced a 7-year-old boy, and videos of him screaming in pain went viral. Durkan claimed the strips of black tape covering police badge numbers were “mourning bands” for fallen officers. The last time a Seattle officer died in the line of duty was 2009. The American Civil Liberties Union filed suit against the city for “indiscriminately used excessive force” against “overwhelmingly peaceful” protests. Two days after Durkan and the police chief announced a 30-day ban on tear gas, police again used tear gas on protesters. On June 7, a man drove into a crowd of protesters, shot a demonstrator, exited the car waving a handgun and surrendered to East Precinct police without incident, claiming that his brother was a cop there.
Photo: David Ryder/Getty Images
Durkan’s standing was further tarnished by repeated police assaults on protesters and tear-gassing residents inside their homes in Capitol Hill, which has a history of queer and trans activism. Democratic Party activists called on her to resign or be impeached over the police violence and previous killings of Black Seattleites, leading thousands to sign petitions in favor of her removal and garnering support from three of nine city council members.
Kshama Sawant, the socialist council member who represents Capitol Hill, said Durkan “overreached” after disruptive protests began May 29. Instead of allowing protesters to march past the precinct, Sawant said, “police threw hundreds of flash bangs, attacked the medics tents, tear-gassed the entire neighborhood. The violence backfired and built support for the movement. Hundreds of activists, led by Black and brown youth, decided to challenge the intimidation of police at the East Precinct.”
It was similar, Sawant noted, to historical moments when the governments’ reflex to escalate violence against protests created more support rather than crushing them, such as May 1968 in France, the Arab Spring in Cairo’s Tahrir Square in 2011, or Occupy Wall Street in New York later that year.
Finding herself in such a moment, Durkan told police to abandon the East Precinct against the wishes of her police chief.
The fiery Seattle protests were Mark Anthony’s baptism into protest activism. He had been on the streets for barely a week when on June 8, the 32-year-old former brand ambassador and tour guide for Boeing headed to Capitol Hill. “I drove the entire way with some very choice words for the police,” he said. “I was disappointed when I got here, and they were gone.”
Anthony, who became a leader in the CHOP, said, “One of our white allies grabbed the first tent” — founding the Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone that night.
The early vibe was like a festival. “It was a cross between Burning Man and Coachella,” one visitor said. Just as historic protests after Floyd’s death served as a release valve for deep rage against racist policing and relief from months of pandemic lockdown, the CHAZ was a flowering of hope that drew thousands in a season of death. (Organizers later changed the name to CHOP, saying that they were not seeking autonomy and to keep the focus on Black Lives Matter.)
Artists painted an enormous Black Lives Matter street mural that popped with life. DJs hosted late-night dance parties. Documentaries such as “Paris is Burning” and “13th” were screened outdoors. Native American drumming circles cohabited with meditation sessions. Plots of black earth sprouted leafy greens and placards honoring Black historical figures. A “No Cop Co-op” handed out toothpaste, toilet paper, and other supplies while the Riot Kitchen and Feed the Movement dished out free “vegetable kimchi tofu ‘pastrami’ reuben wraps and gochujang beef fried rice.” Families picnicked, social influencers livestreamed, and general assemblies and teach-ins were held regularly.
The miniature society that sprang up was a legacy of a raft of occupation protests over the past years, Occupy Wall Street, Occupy Sandy, and Occupy ICE, in particular. These movements espoused principles of self-organization and mutual aid, where activists learned how to rapidly set up housing, health care, kitchens, education, child care, free stores, and tech support.
Photo: David Ryder/Getty Images
“CHOP had a very positive energy and people were taking care of each other. It was like Occupy on steroids,” said Michael, a member of the now-disbanded security team known as Sentinels, who asked that his last name not be used.
Yet the Occupy movements foundered on a broken society and the individuals it produced. One veteran organizer involved in New York’s Occupy movements, who asked not to be named, said, “Occupy is outside the authority of existing institutions. It’s a magnet for people who are needy and even pushy, abusive, and exploitive.”
Similar problems dogged the CHOP. Slate, another Sentinel who did not give a last name, said one self-appointed security person “pulled handguns on and maced people.”
“It’s not a protest. It’s a damn homeless encampment.”
“Tourists” drew considerable ire. “We had people flying in from all over because they thought it was a lawless place, a festival, anything goes,” said Anthony, the CHOP activist. “We made the DJs stop at midnight. We are separating the people here to protest from the people who came to party.”
A party was one draw; others came simply in search of a place. Homeless Seattleites, whose population has grown in recent years, poured into the CHOP. “Of course they are going to come to CHOP,” said Michael. “They got food, a free store, a safe place to sleep and hang out, and there is hope.” On top of that, he said, “Free thinkers do drugs, so there’s going to be people doing drugs. There’s going to be a market, so people will fight over it.” He speculated the drug trade attracted local gangs.
By the end of June, with families and tourists having disappeared because of the violence, the park looked like the end stage of many Occupy camps, with scores of people living in tents. “It’s not a protest,” said Hunt, the CHOP activist. “It’s a damn homeless encampment.”
While CHOP bears similarities to Occupy Wall Street, there are differences: The Seattle movement was less focused on maintaining the occupation itself or providing broad-based social services as essential political work.
Those are the functions of the state, said Anthony, adding, “I’m tired of babysitting. We are not against social workers, counselors, the fire department. We are against racist, crooked cops.” He said they escorted out sexual assaulters and spent hours finding support for those having mental health crises. Volunteers had to talk down a man threatening to jump from a rooftop.
The CHOP also encountered problems Occupy Wall Street never imagined, namely President Donald Trump. One day after the protest began, he rage-tweeted, “Domestic Terrorists have taken over Seattle,” threatening to take the city back by force from “ugly anarchists.” The incitement trickled down to Fox News fabricating images of violence in Seattle and racist right-wing media calling a Black activist a “warlord.” Others may have taken Trump’s words as a call for violence, as has happened before. The far-right group Proud Boys were caught on video assaulting a man near the CHOP. One assailant was a notorious brawler, Tusitala “Tiny” Toese, who was later arrested for violating his probation.
Despite differences with Occupy, the CHOP faltered for similar reasons. Movements that start online may capture the imagination with slogans like “We Are the 99%” or “Follow Black Leadership,” but they are too flimsy to bridge deep historical divisions. The all-are-welcome, open organizing form, meanwhile, is too shallow to allow for politics and too prone to manipulation. One observer described the general assemblies as more meandering speak-outs than disciplined strategy sessions.
Photo: Toby Scott/SOPA Images/LightRocket/Getty Images
“CHOP is like if Twitter were an actual place. It’s full of different ideologies, perspectives, and pains, and everyone thinks they are right and no one wants to be a follower,” said Slate. “I would hear the term ‘Black leadership’ 15 times a day, and no one knew who they were. There wasn’t a group with shared ideas and leadership.”
Hunt, for his part, is angry. “Greed drowned out the protests,” he said. “Everyone is fighting to be a leader because they want to be in the meeting with the mayor and say, ‘Defund the police and fund my organization.’ We didn’t come out here because nonprofits aren’t being funded. We came out here because cops are killing Black people.”
“Greed drowned out the protests.Everyone is fighting to be a leader because they want to be in the meeting with the mayor and say, ‘Defund the police and fund my organization.’”
Those divisions play out in the CHOP. Both Anthony and Hunt complained that other activists told them that only Black women should speak, not Black men. On Juneteenth, when activists set aside a section of the park for Black healing, guarded by white people whose job was to keep other white people out, Anthony said, “I started tearing down the signs saying ‘this is a Black-only space.’” He said he felt it was important that many voices be heard. Another participant said the incident was an example of “the perils of extreme identity politics.” Yet others said CHOP often served as a “performative space for white guilt.”
Durkan and the police, meanwhile, blame the CHOP for gang violence that is a product of Seattle’s dystopia. Home to technology behemoths, Amazon and Microsoft, the region has a GDP of $392 billion, nearly the size of Nigeria with its 196 million people. Racial income inequality is extreme. For every dollar white households in Seattle make, Black households make 40 cents, a spread 25 cents greater than the national average. Public schools are unequal and segregated. Soaring rents, homelessness, mental health crises, and incarceration fall heaviest on Black and Indigenous communities.
For the CHOP, it was a Sisyphean task to negotiate complex political issues among activists who barely knew each under the glare of national media, pressured by the city and cops, and plagued by violent actors on the fringes.
Yet the activists were able to find some agreement. They united around three demands: Cut Seattle’s $409 million police budget by 50 percent, shift funding to historically Black communities, and amnesty for all those arrested in the protests. The CHOP may not have survived, but its agenda and example did.