White nationalist leaders are praising Donald Trump for tweeting an anti-Semitic image attacking Hillary Clinton. The pro-Trump racists wrote that the tweet represented “dog-whistling by The Leader” about “filthy Jew terrorists,” proof that “Trump is not backing down,” and that it’s “Nice to see Mr. Trump slipping some 'Red Pills' to the American people.”
WASHINGTON — FBI Director James Comey announced Tuesday that he was referring the investigation into Hillary Clinton’s use of a private email server to prosecutors at the Department of Justice for a “prosecutorial decision.”
“There is evidence that they were extremely careless” with highly sensitive information, said Comey of Clinton and her aides. But, he added, “our judgement is that no reasonable prosecutor would bring such a case.”
“No charges are appropriate in this case,” Comey said he would recommend to the DoJ.
The FBI announcement came days after Clinton met with investigators at the bureau’s headquarters in Washington. That was seen as a signal that the federal investigation could be winding down. Attorney General Loretta Lynch — facing criticism over her meeting with former President Bill Clinton — said Friday she would accept the recommendation of career prosecutors on the matter.
Hillary Clinton had called the use of a private email server a mistake, but has said she didn’t break any laws.
Did a Fear of Slave Revolts Drive American Independence?
Photo
CreditGeorge Bates
Binghamton, N.Y. — FOR more than two centuries, we have been reading the Declaration of Independence wrong. Or rather, we’ve been celebrating the Declaration as people in the 19th and 20th centuries have told us we should, but not the Declaration as Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin and John Adams wrote it. To them, separation from Britain was as much, if not more, about racial fear and exclusion as it was about inalienable rights.
The Declaration’s beautiful preamble distracts us from the heart of the document, the 27 accusations against King George III over which its authors wrangled and debated, trying to get the wording just right. The very last one — the ultimate deal-breaker — was the most important for them, and it is for us: “He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.” In the context of the 18th century, “domestic insurrections” refers to rebellious slaves. “Merciless Indian savages” doesn’t need much explanation.
In fact, Jefferson had originally included an extended attack on the king for forcing slavery upon unwitting colonists. Had it stood, it would have been the patriots’ most powerful critique of slavery. The Continental Congress cut out all references to slavery as “piratical warfare” and an “assemblage of horrors,” and left only the sentiment that King George was “now exciting those very people to rise in arms among us.” The Declaration could have been what we yearn for it to be, a statement of universal rights, but it wasn’t. What became the official version was one marked by division.
Upon hearing the news that the Congress had just declared American independence, a group of people gathered in the tiny village of Huntington, N.Y., to observe the occasion by creating an effigy of King George. But before torching the tyrant, the Long Islanders did something odd, at least to us. According to a report in a New York City newspaper, first they blackened his face, and then, alongside his wooden crown, they stuck his head “full of feathers” like “savages,” wrapped his body in the Union Jack, lined it with gunpowder and then set it ablaze.
The 27th and final grievance was at the Declaration’s heart (and on Long Islanders’ minds) because in the 15 months between the Battles of Lexington and Concord and independence, reports about the role African-Americans and Indians would play in the coming conflict was the most widely discussed news. And British officials all over North America did seek the aid of slaves and Indians to quell the rebellion.
A few months before Jefferson wrote the Declaration, the Continental Congress received a letter from an army commander that contained a shocking revelation: Two British officials, Guy Carleton and Guy Johnson, had gathered a number of Indians and begged them to “feast on a Bostonian and drink his blood.” Seizing this as proof that the British were utterly despicable, Congress ordered this letter printed in newspapers from Massachusetts to Virginia.
At the same time, patriot leaders had publicized so many notices attacking the November 1775 emancipation proclamation by the governor of Virginia, Lord Dunmore, that, by year’s end, a Philadelphia newspaper reported a striking encounter on that city’s streets. A white woman was appalled when an African-American man refused to make way for her on the sidewalk, to which he responded, “Stay, you damned white bitch, till Lord Dunmore and his black regiment come, and then we will see who is to take the wall.”
His expectation, that redemption day was imminent, shows how much those sponsored newspaper articles had soaked into everyday conversation. Adams, Franklin and Jefferson were essential in broadcasting these accounts as loudly as they could. They highlighted any efforts of British agents like Dunmore, Carleton and Johnson to involve African-Americans and Indians in defeating the Revolution.
Even though the black Philadelphian saw this as wonderful news, the founders intended those stories to stoke American outrage. It was a very rare week in 1775 and 1776 in which Americans would open their local paper without reading at least one article about British officials “whispering” to Indians or “tampering” with slave plantations.
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So when the crowd in Huntington blackened the effigy’s face and stuffed its head with feathers before setting it on fire, they were indeed celebrating an independent America, but one defined by racial fear and exclusion. Their burning of the king and his enslaved and native supporters together signified the opposite of what we think of as America. The effigy represented a collection of enemies who were all excluded from the republic born on July 4, 1776.
This idea — that some people belong as proper Americans and others do not — has marked American history ever since. We like to excuse the founders from this, to give them a pass. After all, there is that bit about everyone being “created equal” in this, the most important text of American history and identity. And George Washington’s army was the most racially integrated army the United States would field until Vietnam, much to Washington’s chagrin.
But you wouldn’t know that from reading the newspapers. All the African-Americans and Indians who supported the revolution — and lots did — were no match against the idea that they were all “merciless savages” and “domestic insurrectionists.” Like the people of Huntington, Americans since 1776 have operated time and time again on the assumption that blacks and Indians don’t belong in this republic. This notion comes from the very founders we revere this weekend. It haunts us still.
Fred HudsonAfter all, we had slavery in the South, black codes in the North, free Blacks lived in fear, and the Know Nothings in the 1850's were fighting immigration. Those were the days! Then Mr. Lincoln had to go and spoil it all.
It's bright and sunny in Dixie likes it's supposed to be. As long as I don't eat no bad potato salad I'll be okay. We gonna have us a good ole time. How about ya'll?
His recent abortion dissent explains why Clarence Thomas is so cut off on the Supreme Court, even from his fellow-conservatives.PHOTOGRAPH BY DENNIS BRACK / BLOOMBERG VIA GETTY
This year’s Supreme Court term abounded in so much drama—the death of Justice Antonin Scalia, the tie votes among the remaining Justices, theliberalvictories in the final days—that it was possible to miss a curious subplot: the full flowering of Justice Clarence Thomas’s judicial eccentricity.
Since his stormy confirmation, in 1991, Thomas has been the target of much unfair criticism. Some have argued, for example, that his years of silence during oral arguments meant he was not doing much work at all. In fact, Thomas is the most prolific opinion writer on the Court—and that is especially true this year. According to statistics compiled by Professor Steve Vladeck, of the University of Texas Law School, Thomas wrote opinions in thirty-eight of the sixty-two cases the Justices decided in the 2015-16 term. That’s twice as many as Justice Samuel Alito, a conservative, like Thomas, and the next-most active writer on the court. Likewise, Thomas’s critics have made the condescending charge that he was just a blind follower of Scalia, an idea that the results this year also rebut.
The truth is that Thomas’s view of the Constitution is highly idiosyncratic. Indeed, one reason he wrote so many opinions (often solo dissents and concurrences) was that no other Justice, including Scalia, shared his views. Thomas is a great deal more conservative than his colleagues, and arguably the most conservative Justice to serve on the Supreme Court since the nineteen-thirties.
While some Justices are famous for seeking consensus with their colleagues, Thomas seems to go out of his way to find reasons to disagree—often in the most provocative ways. Take, for example, his solo dissent this year in Foster v. Chatman, in which all the other Justices joined Chief Justice John G. Roberts, Jr.,’s opinion setting aside a death-penalty verdict in Georgia. Roberts said that records preserved by the prosecutors in that case showed egregious racial discrimination in jury selection. Prosecutors said one juror “represents Black,” another note said “No Black church,” and other notes identified black jurors as “B#1,” “B#2,” and “B#3,” as well as notes with “N” (for “no”) appearing next to the names of all black prospective jurors. “The contents of the prosecution’s file plainly belie the State’s claim that it exercised its strikes in a ‘color-blind’ manner,” Roberts wrote for the Court, adding, “the focus on race in the prosecution’s file plainly demonstrates a concerted effort to keep black prospective jurors off the jury.” Thomas, alone, was unpersuaded. The prosecutors’ notes, he wrote, provided “no excuse for the Court’s reversal of the state court’s credibility determinations.” (The case reflects a long pattern at the court of Thomas, the only black justice, voting against programs designed to assist African-Americans, and rejecting findings of discrimination against African-Americans.)
The Foster case turned primarily on the facts, but it’s on constitutional law that Thomas is most isolated. Far more than even Scalia did, Thomas endorses originalism—the belief that the Constitution should be interpreted as its words were understood at the time it was written. By a vote of 5–3, the Court struck down Texas’s restrictions on abortion clinics in Whole Woman’s Health v. Hellerstedt, but neither of the other dissenters (Roberts and Samuel Alito) joined Thomas’s opinion. What’s most extraordinary about Thomas’s dissenting opinion in the abortion case is not that he objects to the ruling; as he noted, “I remain fundamentally opposed to the Court’s abortion jurisprudence.” But Thomas also took the opportunity to reject more than a century of the Court’s constitutional jurisprudence. He said that, since the Presidency of Franklin D. Roosevelt, the Court’s interpretation of the Constitution has become an “unworkable morass of special exceptions and arbitrary applications.”
The abortion dissent explains why Thomas is so cut off on the Court, even from his fellow-conservatives. He doesn’t respect the Court’s precedents. He is so convinced of the wisdom of his approach to the law that he rejects practically the whole canon of constitutional law. It’s an act of startling self-confidence, but a deeply isolating one as well. Even his ideological allies, who mostly come out the same way on cases, recognize that they must dwell within the world that their colleagues and predecessors created. Thomas, in contrast, has his own constitutional law, which he alone honors and applies.
Thomas just turned sixty-eight years old, and reports of his impending retirement briefly surfaced before his wife shot them down as “bogus.” Indeed, it is difficult to imagine that Thomas would allow any Democrat to choose his successor. Shortly after Scalia died, Thomas asked his first question in oral argument in more than a decade, but it’s highly unlikely that he will take on Scalia’s role as the pugnacious conservative in the Court’s public sessions. Rather, Thomas will continue his own way, increasingly alone, as the Court, for the first time in two generations, moves to the left. As for Thomas’s place on the Court, it’s difficult to improve on Scalia’s analysis, which I heard him give at a synagogue a decade ago. Scalia was asked about how his judicial philosophy differed from Thomas’s. “I’m an originalist,” Scalia said, “but I’m not a nut.”
