Here it is in black and white: the Whistleblower Complaint is out and not only does it claim, as I noted yesterday, that President Trump abused his power for personal gain, but, in a nod the master, Richard Nixon, he attempted to cover it up is well.
The whistleblower says that Trump pressured a foreign country to investigate his political rivals in order to give him an advantage in the 2020 election and subsequently dispatched his personal lawyer, Rudy Giuliani, and the U.S. Attorney General, William Barr, to carry out his plan. All of this in circumvention of U.S. foreign policy, in a manner which the whistleblower characterizes as a "serious or flagrant problem, abuse or violation of law or Executive Order," and in a manner which "pose[s] risks to U.S. national security and undermine[s] the U.S. government's efforts to deter and counter foreign interference in U.S. elections."
What's more, White House officials moved to cover it up.
In the wake of the July 25th call, a summary memorandum of which was produced yesterday, the president's men realized how serious of a transgression Trump had committed. Their response:
Even those who work for Trump knew full well that he had abused his power and intended to continue to do so.
To the extent anyone doubts these allegations or who claims that the complaint is mere hearsay, know that there are multiple people mentioned in the complaint who are said to have supplied consistent, corroborated reports of that which is asserted therein. Reports which can be easily confirmed via the testimony of the people who relayed that which they witnessed to the whistleblower. Which is to say that a few simple hearings will transform this from a mere complaint to documented, admissible evidence that the President of the United States, his Attorney General, his personal lawyer and other senior White House officials violated the law and mounted a coverup.
President Nixon was forced to resign under threat of impeachment for orchestrating a domestic break-in to get dirt on his political rivals and orchestrating a coverup. Trump now stands credibly accused of abusing the power of his office to coerce a foreign government into digging up dirt on his political rivals and orchestrating a coverup.
The facts of the matter could not be more clear. Nor could their implications or the logical conclusion to this affair: President Trump must be impeached. Those who oppose such an effort are endorsing a blatant violation of the Constitution.
UPDATE: Trump seems to be taking this well:
Earlier today President Trump released a summary memorandum of his July 2019 call with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. Its contents are damning. They justify Trump's impeachment, without question.
The summary -- which it should be remembered, was crafted by Trump and his aides in order to put Trump's words and conduct in the best possible light -- clearly shows Trump using his powers as Commander-in-Chief and Head of State to pressure a foreign actor into doing his domestic political bidding.
The critical context: Ukraine faces an existential threat from Russia, with which it has been in a virtual -- and sometimes active -- state of war for some time. Russia has annexed a portion of Ukraine and represents a constant military threat. In light of that, Ukraine desperately depends on foreign military aid, particularly from the United States.
In the call, Zelensky butters up Trump to no end, both personally and about how grateful he is for our help. He also plays into Trump's need to feel superior to other leaders and leans hard into how little help, comparatively, Ukraine receives from Germany and France, mentioning its leaders by name, as Trump is wont to do. Trump laps that up and then leans back into Zelensky, agreeing how important our military aid is to Ukraine's security.
It is against that backdrop that Zelensky makes his ask for FGM-148 Javelin missiles, which are essential for Ukraine in the event of a Russian invasion:
Trump's immediate response:
"I would like you to us a favor though."
Words mean things and the "though" is the smoking gun.
In this passage, Trump is putting an express condition on United States military aid to Ukraine: sure, we'll help you, but you need to help me in combatting my domestic political enemies.
The reference to investigating the “whole situation in Ukraine” and Crowdstrike, refers to the company hired to investigate the hack of the Democratic National Committee during the 2016 election. Trump went on to mention the “other thing." What other thing?
Here Trump is, plainly, asking Zelensky to look into unsubstantiated allegations against Hunter Biden, the son of the potential Democratic nominee.
Trump is asking for political dirt. He is doing so by using Zelensky's obvious desire for military aid as a lever. It could not be any more clear.
It's a shakedown, in which Trump is using his defense and foreign policy powers to aid his political prospects. And, again, it should be noted that this is via Trump's own, self-interested summary memorandum of the conversation. The surrounding context, other conversations, acts in furtherance of this initial exchange, and whatever else exists illuminating all of this likely casts it in a worse light.
President Trump has abused his power. His doing so is an impeachable offense. It could not be any more clear.
UPDATE: The Whistleblower Complaint has been released and it is damning.
It's about as straightforward as a thing can be: the President of the United States has used his powers as commander-in-chief of the armed forces and head of state to coerce another country -- one which relies on us for protection against a stronger, threatening neighbor -- to dig up dirt on his domestic political opponents. That's the textbook definition of abuse of power. One could not invent an example of an abuse of power more on-the-nose than this.
If Congress does not impeach the president for such an act, he is completely and utterly above the law.
It does not matter that the Senate will almost certainly not remove him from office. Doing noting establishes the most dangerous of precedents. Not only with respect to this particular abuse of power but with respect to the fundamental ability of Congress to exercise oversight of a president. If Congress does not impeach here, it is empowering future presidents to abuse their power in similarly brazen and destructive ways.
Force the president to at least to begin to answer for his illegal acts. Force his political allies to stop their ridiculous equivocating and vote, on the record, in support of this. History will look terribly upon this president regardless, but it will look even more terribly upon those who stood by, watched what he did, knew that he abused the power of his office, and let it pass without making even the slightest effort to hold him to account.
The Columbus Dispatch reports today that between 2016-17 the State of Ohio took drugs purchased by and intended for the state's Department of Mental Health and Addiction Services and gave them to the prison system to be used in executions. This despite warnings from drug manufacturers not to do so under threat of having drugs millions of people depend on, some to simply live, cut off.
Put more simply: the state thought it was so important to execute people that it was worth putting the lives and health of the sick and those in need at risk to make it happen. This -- along with empowering police to commit violence with impunity -- is one of the logical, violent end-points of the "tough-on-crime" political ideology. The place one reaches when one elevates vengeance above all other purposes of the criminal justice system.
And yes, there are purposes of the criminal justice system other than vengeance.
Rehabilitating criminals and making them productive or, at the every least, non-harmful members of society was once thought of as a laudable goal, but now it is considered too soft. Supporting such a thing makes one vulnerable to political attack ads, so no politician dares to publicly say they are for it. This is why parole is harder to come by, draconian mandatory minimum sentences exist, and capricious "three-strikes" laws are passed.
Simply incapacitating criminals and keeping them from committing more crimes is another purpose of the system. This one is seen as less wimpy by the tough-on-crime crowd, but it's difficult and expensive to house the convicted and doesn't satisfy that eye-for-an-eye bloodlust that seems so important.
So we're left with vengeance.
The problem, though, is that those who adhere to a code of vengeance do so out of the belief that it is mandated by God or some higher, moral power. As such, there is no end seen as more righteous and thus there is no price too high to pay to achieve it. Even if it means harming the sick and needy to see that vengeance is done.
But it's morally abhorrent. Vengeance is not ours. I'm ashamed to live in a state that believes it is. I'm ashamed to live in a state that values state-sanctioned killing above helping those in need.
Over the weekend a report emerged detailing how Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh’s confirmation process was aided by a fast-tracked FBI investigation which failed to follow up with dozens of witnesses with potentially damaging information on the nominee. It also includes new allegations from a witness who says he saw Kavanaugh push his penis into the hand of a female student at Yale. It was an allegation the witness told the FBI about last year but which they failed to investigate.
The new report has led to calls for Kavanaugh's impeachment. Such calls will likely go nowhere given current political reality. I will reiterate, however, that no matter what comes of the current news cycle, Kavanaugh is unfit to be a mere lawyer, let alone a Supreme Court Justice. He should not only not have been confirmed last year but he should probably be disbarred.
Most people are viewing all of this, both last year and now, with reference to the standard of what one can get away with in politics. On that score, sure, Kavanaugh is probably fine in today's graceless and shameless political age. He had and still has sufficient support (i.e. the Republican-controlled Senate). In politics, especially these days, that's all that matters.
Kavanugh, however, is not merely beholden to political processes. As I wrote last year, as a lawyer and a judge, he's beholden to the standards of legal and judicial ethics, which presents a far higher bar.
It is manifestly clear -- and was clear a year ago -- that Kavanaugh lied under oath during his confirmation hearing. Partisans contend that they were lies about minor details on relatively unimportant matters. They contend that they fall short of the sorts of lies which would typically bring forth a perjury charge. All of that may be true. All of it is irrelevant, however, because the standard of candor before a tribunal for an attorney and a judge is far, far higher than "that which is legally actionable for perjury" and no exceptions are made for "lies regarding unimportant matters."
As I wrote last year, a person can be denied a law license for lying about something that happened in college or even high school. A lawyer who even hints at misleading behavior during the course of trying a case or who even shades the truth under oath is subject to disciplinary action. The penalties for lack of candor before a tribunal are severe, and include disbarment.
Which is to say: Brett Kavanaugh would be unfit for office even if this past weekend's report never emerged. He'd be unfit to merely practice law, in fact. That, despite all of this, he is now ensconced in the highest and most powerful position in the entire judiciary for the rest of his life is a stain on the legal profession and on the nation.
I'm often told by opponents of Medicare for All that we can't have a single payer health care system because people love their private insurance.
In other news: Whole Foods is eliminating health insurance benefits for 2,000 workers. Because it can.
Wouldn't life be way better if your health insurance was not controlled by your employer?
Joe Biden leads the polls primarily, I assume, because of name recognition and the fact that Democratic voters liked Obama and associate Biden with him. That's fine. There are a lot of reasons people like candidates, especially if they're not hyper-connected with the day-to-day of the campaign like obsessives can be. Biden, on the whole, has been likable for most of his career and everyone knows who he is. It'd be surprising if he wasn't leading.
In recent weeks he's been increasingly attacked by those pursuing him, however. It was especially noticeable in last night's debate, when the other candidates went after him with gusto. Which is also fine. It's part of the deal when you're the frontrunner.
Biden is not handling the attacks well. His responses to anything but the most basic questions have been rambling and at times nonsensical. He gets lost in his own answers. He's simply not performing well under even the slightest bit of pressure. It's not a good sign.
Biden, however, has a lot of friends in the media, and today we see the sorts of dividends that pays via a New York Times op-ed framed thusly:
This is complete bullshit.
Bernie Sanders is older than Biden. Elizabeth Warren is 70. They have their detractors, obviously, but hardly anyone is attacking them for their age in and of itself. The reason for that is because, unlike Biden, they are coherent, rhetorically nimble and are championing policies that are forward-looking while he stammers, talks in circles, references "record players" and literally dropped his dentures when trying to mount an argument.
Biden is being criticized because his brain doesn't seem to be working. Because he cannot articulate compelling arguments and cannot defend himself in anything approaching a competent manner when attacked. The problem with Joe Biden is not that he's old. It's that he's totally overwhelmed, out of his depth and, worst of all, almost wholly disinterested in advancing policies beyond "I want to be president because it's my turn." It'd be just as disqualifying if a 45-year-old did this.
Biden's inability to argue and defend himself with even a modicum of energy will allow Trump to carve him up when they go toe-to-toe. His unwillingness to advance a forward-looking agenda will sap the enthusiasm of the energetic base of the Democratic party. Both of those things risk making an election that should be an easy win against an unpopular incumbent anything but.
It's why I can't support Biden in the Democratic party, even if I'd support him in the general.
When Joe Biden or whoever talks about "reaching across the aisle" to work with Republicans, someone needs to smack them in the head with a printed-out copy of this editorial, reminding them that Republicans have zero interest in such things because they are ideologically at war with democracy.
My kids are studying 9/11 in school. Yesterday my son was talking about it and described a video they watched featuring victims, family members of victims, and witnesses as "old people talking about 9/11." He spoke of it in the same terms as we might've talked about History Channel shows featuring World War II veterans.
My son is a 14-year-old freshman. September 11 happened almost four years before he was born. On my timeline, the moon landing and Woodstock are equivalently remote historical events. Which is a reminder that while, for many of us, 9/11 seems like it happened quite recently, it's not viewed by younger people in the same way. This should be an obvious sort of observation. "Time marches on" and all of that, but I feel like we're not letting time march on naturally with 9/11.
Unlike so many historical events, 9/11 continues to dominate the zeitgeist in a host of ways, many of them unhealthy. Most obviously, we're still fighting wars, either in response to it or for which it served as a pretext. But it likewise continues to inform our country's policies, business practices, political rhetoric, and mood. Post 9/11 life is so thoroughly shaped by it that I think we often forget just how different things are now than they were 18 years ago today.
There's a balance to be struck between "never forgetting" and "respectfully moving on." I'm not sure anyone has a great grip on exactly how to do that, but it's probably tied up in the difference between simply, "remembering" and having historical events serve as the fulcrum around which most current events continue to turn.
It seems we should still be able to remember the history of 9/11 without it serving as a conversation-ender or political third rail. It seems that we, as adults, should begin to think of 9/11 more like my son and his classmates are thinking about it today. As an important historical event and tragedy. As something which should be remembered and something from which we should learn. But as something that is, in fact, in the past and something which should not so thoroughly dominate the culture that it keeps us from moving forward into the future.