Shortly before retaking office, Trump had posted on X: “My NEW Official Trump Meme is HERE! It’s time to celebrate everything we stand for: WINNING!” Below the post was a drawing of Trump with the words “FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT” – an allusion to his assassination attempt.

Soon after that announcement came the creation of the $MELANIA coin, named after the first lady, which also slid on the markets in late September 2025.

There are concerns that these and other crypto businesses the president and his family are involved with are creating an unprecedented ethical minefield – blurring the line between private profit and public office.

The personal profit Trump might receive from these meme coins is unclear. The website gettrumpmemes.com suggests that while the product is endorsed by the president, it has “nothing to do with any political campaign”. The Trump Organization, a holding company for Trump’s business ventures, and Fight Fight Fight LLC own 80% of the coins, it states.

But critics such as Democratic senator Elizabeth Warren worry that Trump could be leveraging the presidency to add to his family’s wealth. Norman Eisen, a former ethics adviser to President Barack Obama, has argued that Trump’s crypto dealings may be “the single worst conflict of interest in the modern history of the presidency”.

One inquiry by the New York Times into Trump’s budding crypto empire contended that it has “erased centuries-old presidential norms, eviscerating the boundary between private enterprise and government policy in a manner without precedent in modern American history”.

In response to allegations that Trump has profited off interests while in the Oval Office, his assistant press secretary, Anna Kelly, released a statement saying his assets are “in a trust managed by his children”, and that there was not a conflict of interest.

In May, Democratic senator Jeff Merkeley (Oregon) introduced a bill for an end crypto corruption act, which would ban the president and other senior officials from “issuing, endorsing or sponsoring crypto assets”. The bill is pending with mostly Democrat support, so it is unlikely to pass the Republican-controlled House and Senate.

A family affair

Trump’s forays into crypto are a family affair. His sons Don Jr, Eric and Barron founded World Liberty Financial (WLFI) in September 2024, months before Trump was inaugurated a second time.

The president was originally listed as its “chief crypto advocate”, although his title on the website has since changed to “co-founder emeritus”. The site states this happened when he took office.

Apart from his sons, WLFI includes in the team listed on its website Trump’s chief Middle East envoy and negotiator, Steven Witkoff, and Witkoff’s son Zach.

According to the Trumps, WLFI was founded as “the start of a financial revolution” destined to make crypto more user-friendly. Yet critics say it represents an opportunity for the president to benefit financially, because of his involvement with the firm.

More concerns were raised when its crypto coin, the WLFI token, started trading in September 2025, reaching a high of about 40 cents per coin – hugely expanding the Trump family’s wealth.

Eric Trump also recently founded American Bitcoin. According to a press release, this firm will mine and hoard the world’s most valuable cryptocurrency, bitcoin, as well as capitalise on “opportunistic bitcoin purchases”. Upon its stock debut, estimates were that the Trump sons’ stake in American Bitcoin totalled around US$1.5 billion (£1.12 billion).

Trump’s crypto history

Formerly a crypto sceptic, Trump once said he was “not a fan” of bitcoin. Yet just before re-taking office, he declared that he wanted to make the US “the crypto capital of the planet”.

An early sign of Trump’s interest in crypto came when he spoke to a standing-room only crowd at bitcoin’s annual conference in Nashville, Tennessee in July 2024, becoming the first major presidential candidate to do so.

As America’s chief law enforcement officer, Trump helps set and enforce crypto policy — precisely the arena where his family’s businesses now operate. According to one report, the Trump family’s wealth in crypto, at least on paper, has surpassed US$5 billion – a number that now exceeds Trump’s vast real estate portfolio.

The emoluments clauses were created in the US constitution in 1789 to protect presidents from corrupting influences, and prohibit US leaders from accepting gifts from foreign governments. But they are now considered by some to need updating.

This concern isn’t hypothetical. In May 2025, Freight Technologies (Fr8Tech), a Nasdaq-listed firm based in Mexico, announced it would raise as much as US$20 million to purchase $TRUMP meme coins.

Against the backdrop of the US raising tariffs on Mexico, Fr8Tech CEO Javier Selgas said the deal was both economically and politically advantageous, explaining: “We believe that the addition of the Official Trump tokens [is] an effective way to advocate for fair, balanced, and free trade between Mexico and the US.”

By purchasing Trump’s meme coin, a firm such as Fr8Tech can both support the Trump family’s financial interests and hope to gain favourable treatment on trade policy. More concerns were raised when Trump hosted a black-tie dinner at his club in Virginia for the largest $TRUMP holders.

Trump’s crypto credentials

Trump has been the most crypto-friendly president ever. In March, he signed an executive order to create a national bitcoin strategic reserve – a government stockpile of the asset he has framed as a symbol of US dominance in the digital asset space. Moreover, Trump’s AI and crypto czar, David Sacks, has presided over historic pronouncements to improve the regulatory “rules of the road” for cryptocurrencies.

The US Securities and Exchange Commission, an executive branch agency that regulates markets, has moved to being pro-crypto under Trump, casting aside the approach of the Joe Biden era. This has included dropping legal suits against high-profile crypto firms such as Coinbase.

But while the Trump family benefits financially from its rising investment in crypto, this could yet prove a Pyrrhic victory. If Democrats wrest control of the House of Representatives in the 2026 midterms, they could use it to scrutinise the president’s crypto entanglements – and highlight concerns about presidential conflicts of interest.

Thomas Gift, Associate Professor and Director of the Centre on US Politics, UCL

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Trump claims the publications were designed to damage his business reputation, sabotage his candidacy in the 2024 election, and interfere with the election. According to the lawsuit, they were published in “bad faith, out of hatred and ill-will directed towards President Trump without any regard for the truth”.

A federal judge threw out the lawsuit on September 19, but did so on a legal technicality without addressing the content of the allegations. Trump’s lawyers have said they will refile so the issues involved remain active.

Trump’s lawsuit is governed by a 1964 Supreme Court ruling, New York Times v. Sullivan. One of the most celebrated of cases handed down by the court during the era known as the rights revolution, the ruling has provided the press in the US with one of the most protected spaces in the world in which to operate.

The Sullivan case

On March 29 1960, the New York Times published an advertisement funded by northern supporters of Martin Luther King. Headlined Heed Their Rising Voices, it described a number of actions the city government of Montgomery, Alabama had taken to thwart the civil rights movement’s anti-segregation protests and to punish those involved. The city’s police commissioner, L.B. Sullivan, sued the paper for defaming him, even though he was not mentioned by name.

His case rested on the fact there were a small number of factual inaccuracies in the advertisement and that it undermined his professional reputation. A southern jury, upholding Sullivan’s claim, awarded him damages of US$500,000 (£371,000) – roughly equivalent to US$5 million today.

Dismissing Sullivan’s claim, a unanimous Supreme Court established the key test that has governed US press freedom regarding public officials ever since. The “actual malice” test requires evidence that information was published “with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not”.

This means that by themselves, factual inaccuracies are not sufficient to make a case. And since most journalists and commentators seek to be diligent about the material they publish, the ruling has historically created an extremely high bar for litigants. This has granted the media in the US freedoms that extend well beyond those in many other nations.

In legal terms, then, Trump’s case is highly likely to fail.

Wider context

Sullivan also has important things to say in a country currently embroiled in debates about the scope of free political speech and press commentary.

Under pressure from Trump, broadcaster CBS cancelled The Late Show in July, hosted by frequent Trump critic Stephen Colbert, while ABC has now suspended Jimmy Kimmel’s late night show. The latter move followed a furore over comments the host made about Trump’s reaction to the death of far right conservative activist Charlie Kirk.

The debates have also been driven by Trump’s history of lawsuits against those who disagree with him – including, most recently, the Wall Street Journal, and also against ABC and CBS over issues separate to the rows over their talkshow hosts. He has also launched an investigation into former special prosecutor Jack Smith and taken action to put pressure on law firms representing Trump critics as well as against Harvard University, among others.

In 1964, the Supreme Court understood the importance of the context in which the case had been brought, namely the civil rights movement. In the 1960s, libel suits were used by southern states to attempt to control news coverage of civil rights demonstrations. Officials knew that white southern juries would not find in favour of northern newspapers sympathetic to desegregation.

When the Supreme Court considered its judgment in Sullivan, the New York Times was facing 11 other libel suits in Alabama alone with a total of more than US$5 million at stake. CBS was defending five libel suits in southern states with a total cost of almost $2 million.

Fearful of unfavourable verdicts and monetary damages that risked bankruptcy, some media outlets limited or stopped outright coverage of civil rights protests, just as southern segregationists wanted. This was what the court called a “chilling effect … on First Amendment freedoms”. Fear of consequences can limit people’s willingness to speak out, and self-censorship takes the place of official regulation.

In such a context of intimidation, warned the court, “the pall of fear and timidity imposed upon those who would give voice to public criticism is an atmosphere in which the first amendment freedoms cannot survive”. Americans today of all political persuasions would be wise to pay attention. Good, effective political debate can only happen when participants do not fear or risk retaliation for critical commentary.

Politics was also no place for the thin-skinned, warned the justices in 1964. The commitment to first amendment freedoms meant debate “should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open, and […] it may well include vehement, caustic, and sometimes unpleasantly sharp attacks on government and public officials”. A public official, wrote Justice Arthur Goldberg in concurrence, “must expect that his official acts will be commented upon and criticised”.

While unlikely that they anticipated the type of vitriol increasingly familiar to us in the age of social media, the principle nevertheless remains: criticism of job performance is inherent in public roles. If you don’t like it, don’t get involved, and certainly don’t use the law of libel and defamation to seek redress for hurt feelings.

In its Sullivan judgment, the Supreme Court understood the dangers to free speech in a time of polarised debate. Its ruling contains important warnings for Americans that extend well beyond the latest Trump lawsuit.

Emma Long, Associate Professor of American History and Politics, University of East Anglia

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The cancellation is a harbinger of what could happen under a fundamental restructuring of U.S. media that will take place if the proposed Paramount Skydance and Warner Bros. Discovery merger is approved by the Trump administration.

The deal, first revealed on September 11, 2025, would erase one of the five remaining movie studios and concentrate oversight of two of the country’s most prominent newsrooms – CNN and CBS, both targets of the Trump administration’s ire – under one owner with strong ties to Donald Trump.

Based on research from the Global Media & Internet Concentration Project, our analysis shows that Paramount Skydance-Warner Bros. Discovery would gain control of more than a quarter of the US$223 billion U.S. media market, along with influence over film, television, streaming and the cloud infrastructure upon which digital media increasingly depends.

The combined entity would acquire nearly half of the cable television market, including HBO and CNN. The merger would nearly double Paramount’s share of the video streaming market, uniting HBO Max, Paramount+ and Discovery.

By combining two major Hollywood film studios, it would also capture nearly one-third of the film production market.

This is exactly the type of merger that U.S. antitrust agencies have historically scrutinized because of concerns that excessive market concentration gives too much power to a few companies.

In media markets, such concerns are pronounced: Concentration threatens media diversity and increases the risk of media bias and ideological manipulation.

A mega-conglomerate like Paramount-Warner Bros. Discovery would control a vast share of U.S. viewership. Subject to pressure from or, worse, alignment with the Trump administration, the merged company could promote and protect the administration’s interests.

Cloud control

By combining media production and valuable brands such as Harry Potter, DC Comics and Barbie, the merged giant would gain great negotiating power with competing streaming companies, advertisers and distributors. The merged companies could also secure more lucrative streaming deals, better licensing windows and higher per subscriber and ad rates with cable providers.

The 2023 Hollywood writers and actors strikes opposed the exploitative impact of streaming and AI on creative workers’ compensation. The new media giant would wield significant bargaining power over those media workers.

The merger’s potential detrimental impact extends beyond film and television industries.

Paramount is helmed by David Ellison, and the merger is backed by his father, Larry Ellison. Ellison senior owns the world’s fifth-largest cloud provider, Oracle.

Cloud providers are the critical infrastructure for streaming platforms, ferrying digital content from streamers to viewers. As streaming becomes the dominant mode of media consumption, the Ellison family’s control over this infrastructure could give Paramount-Warner Bros. Discovery another lever of power over its competitors.

Diversity denied

With potential size and reach to rival Disney and Comcast’s NBC Universal, Paramount-Warner Bros. Discovery could become another massive media outlet with right-wing ties.

The proposed deal follows the Trump administration’s $1.1 billion cuts in public media funding. These cuts – affecting PBS, NPR and more than 1,500 affiliated local news stations across the country, all accused by Trump of “partisan bias” – effectively accelerate the ongoing demise of local, independent news.

Concurrently, Rupert Murdoch’s Fox Corp. has settled its dynastic succession, ensuring Fox remains a core channel for the American right.

If the merger is approved, Fox Corporation, the conservative Sinclair Broadcasting and Paramount-Warner Bros. Discovery would control one-third of all U.S. media.

This consolidation would further cement the partisan media model driving deepening political polarization in the U.S., as public and local news media lose funding. The deal also would undermine already declining media independence, fundamental to holding the powerful – whether corporations or politicians – to account.

Wielding regulation

The Trump administration has not shied away from using antitrust law and communications regulation to exercise political control over media.

Before initiating its merger with Warner Bros. Discovery, Paramount was acquired by David Ellison’s Skydance Media. Ahead of the government’s merger review, amid regulatory signals it could affect the review process, Paramount-owned CBS paid $16.5 million dollars to Donald Trump to settle a lawsuit Trump filed based on allegations of “deceptive” editing of an interview with his political opponent Kamala Harris. Editing of interviews is a standard editorial practice.

Shortly after, the merger was approved by the FCC with strict political conditions: hiring an ombudsman to oversee CBS’s reporting and eliminating all of the network’s diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives.

David Ellison accepted these conditions, promising to eliminate all of Paramount’s U.S.-based DEI programs. For the ombudsman role, he hired Kenneth Weinstein, former CEO of the conservative Hudson Institute and ambassador to Japan under the first Trump administration.

Since then, the Paramount CEO also has pursued Bari Weiss, a prominent conservative voice, to guide “the editorial direction” of the CBS news division. Ellison’s moves signal that editorial independence at CBS, and soon perhaps CNN, may be subject to ideological oversight.

Meanwhile, Ellison’s father, Larry Ellison, has ties to Donald Trump going back to the first Trump administration. The New York Times in an April 2025 profile said that Ellison “may be closer to Mr. Trump than any mogul this side of” Elon Musk.

The senior Ellison has been playing a key role in negotiations over the future ownership of TikTok. His ties to Trump run deep enough to likely make him one of the main beneficiaries of the TikTok deal currently in negotiation between the United States and China.

Trump has shown an appetite for coercing media companies. For instance, ABC settled a Trump lawsuit in late 2024 with a $15 million donation to the as-yet-unbuilt Trump Library.

By placing two major news outlets in the hands of a family with ties to Trump, the Paramount-Warner Bros. Discovery merger would facilitate such control.

What Orbán did – but faster

This is the “Hungarian model” on speed.

Viktor Orbán, Hungary’s authoritarian leader, spent a decade asserting increasing control over that nation’s media.

The Trump administration is poised to accomplish the same in less than a year – and at greater scale.

In addition to helping allies buy a growing share of U.S. media, in his first eight months Trump also has managed to score conciliatory overtures from the nation’s tech billionaires, who fired fact-checkers at major social media platforms, curbed moderation of hateful content and asserted rigid editorial control over the op-ed pages at The Washington Post, one of the country’s most prominent newspapers.

If the Paramount-Warner Bros. Discovery merger is approved and Larry Ellison joins Andreessen Horowitz as part of the impending TikTok deal, a movie studio, CBS, CNN, Fox, 185 Sinclair-owned TV stations and a major social media platform will have owners with strong ties to Trump.

We believe the promised benefits of a Paramount-Warner Bros. Disovery merger, including lower streaming prices, pale next to the damage it would do to media diversity and pluralism.

By acquiring greater control over film production, TV and streaming, the merger would dramatically reconfigure the very media institutions that shape U.S. culture and politics.

The Trump administration’s review of this merger may further cement the administration’s political control over the U.S. media.

Pawel Popiel, Assistant Professor of Journalism, Washington State University; Dwayne Winseck, Professor of Journalism and Communication, Carleton University; Hendrik Theine, Postdoctoral fellow, Johannes Kepler University Linz, University of Pennsylvania, and Sydney Forde, Postdoctoral Fellow in Annenberg School for Communication, University of Pennsylvania

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

It offered better messaging too. “Defense is too defensive; we want to be offensive too,” he said.

The once and future Department of War would revive the spirit of the years when “we won everything.”

Trump’s language — and the logic behind it — demonstrates how little America’s current leaders have learned from the clear failures of their predecessors across 70 years.

American policies after the Second World War achieved great things: substantially aiding the reconstruction of devastated Europe and Japan, for instance, while spearheading the building of an integrated global economy that fostered unparalleled growth.

There were also grave flaws in American designs and actions, of course, though they rarely if ever stemmed from a lack of aggressive assertiveness and an appetite for winning. Trump’s failure to diagnose the real roots of real problems portends a worsening of already terrible costs and consequences.

Perpetual preparedness

A key source of Trump’s weaknesses is his shallow or distorted grasp of history. His failure here is understanding that the Department of Defense saw “offence” thoroughly embedded into its conception of defence.

Think “the best defence is a good offence” on steroids. George Kennan’s famous “containment policy,” for example, included calls for “unceasing pressure for penetration.”

The American military establishment created in the 1940s turbocharged earlier approaches to national security, moving limited spending and retrenchment between conflicts to proactive and perpetual preparedness. Because the world continued to be seen as a dangerous place even after 1945’s victories, expanding military power was prescribed to deter aggressors or to prevail over them if push came to war.

Emphasis on “the world” helps to explain the scale of power. Air power and other technological advances (in communications, for example) created the integrated international arena in which American leaders acted after the defeat of the Axis powers in the Second World War.

There was a rapid and dramatic growth in the policy agenda. For the new Department of Defense, this meant unparalleled budgets: US$997 billion by 2024 compared to China’s US$314 billion (greater than any other countries in the 1940s and ever since).

It also produced global reach greater than any empire in history: there are almost three million members of the U.S. armed forces today, based in 70 countries.

American power

Trump fails to grasp (or chooses to ignore) the fact that this vast power was used regularly and aggressively:

• There were large-scale interventions from Korea and Indochina to Kuwait, Afghanistan and Iraq.
• There were massive transfusions of equipment, training and personnel into NATO and other countries on every continent, including Israel, Pakistan, Brazil and Australia.

• There was Pentagon co-operation with other agencies engaged in all-of-government efforts — overt and covert operations that ranged from intelligence gathering (including espionage), destabilization and coups (for example in Iran, Guatemala, Chile) and assassinations (including repeated attempts on Cuban leader Fidel Castro and the frequently assumed association with the deaths of Congolese independence leader Patrice Lumumba, Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo and South Vietnam’s Ngô Đình Diệm.

“Defence” served both as the foundation and the justification for the evolution of many elements of this repertoire over the decades.

Failures

A cost accounting of aggressive/offensive defence in the past is disturbing. The tabulation of a 75-year record has filled countless volumes, but two striking examples attest to some major failures:

• A lack of “winning” in large-scale military operations: A “truce” in the Korean peninsula in 1953, giving way to failures in Indochina, Iraq and Afghanistan. (Success in Kuwait in 1990-91 does not significantly alter this problematic balance.)
• Continued independence and resistance from states once thought weak enough to be managed, in particular Cuba and Iran.

Dubious results also had staggering price tags. There were 36,000 American deaths in Korea; 58,000 in Vietnam; 7,000 deaths and 53,000 wounded military personnel in Iraq and Afghanistan. Trillions of dollars were devoted to defence spending at the expense of economic and social programs on the home front.

Trump seems to believe that, with the Department of War, he’s replacing post-1945 defence policies rather than doubling down on them, meaning he is intensifying the offensive/aggressive approaches without grappling with their flaws. In particular, he has no apparent grasp of what bedevilled the post-1945 American drive for global domination.

American arrogance

Democratic Sen. J. William Fulbright famously critiqued the “arrogance of power” in the 1960s, countering the U.S. presumption of a right to impose values on distant corners of the world like Southeast Asia.

Other critics of the Vietnam War further questioned whether the U.S. had sufficient manpower and intellectual or economic resources to achieve its goals. Wasn’t the world too large and complex, with too many rival players and independent allies, and too many ever-evolving challenges, for one country to imagine holding global management capacities in its hands?

In recent years, former presidents Barack Obama and Joe Biden began to apply a pragmatic calculus to conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, even if their core vision continued to exhibit historic “Manifest Destiny” concepts. One example is Obama’s attempt to determine an effective troop level in Iraq while simultaneously retaining his faith in American “exceptionalism.”

Trump’s determination to go on the offensive threatens to reverse even tentative adjustments to American aspirations of global domination. He is reviving attitudes like those of former secretary of state Condoleezza Rice early in the Afghanistan war, when she chided cautious generals by saying “I’m an American. Nothing is impossible.”

Trump’s threats

The magnitude of Trump’s ego (his “I alone” mentality) risks intensifying such a revival — with potentially serious consequences.

Attacks on Venezuelan boats said to be carrying drugs, a failure to rein in Israel’s expanding campaigns in Gaza and the deployment of National Guard forces to Los Angeles, Washington, D.C. and Memphis are strong hints of what may be coming.

Recalling Trump’s speculations about military operations against Greenland and Canada just months ago makes it impossible to dismiss anxiety about his intentions.

Ronald W. Pruessen, Emeritus Professor of History, University of Toronto

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Individuals who have publicly criticized Kirk or made perceived insensitive comments regarding his death are being threatened, fired or doxed.

Teachers and professors have been fired or disciplined, one for posting that Kirk was racist, misogynistic and a neo-Nazi, another for calling Kirk a “hate-spreading Nazi”.

Journalists have also lost their jobs after making comments about Kirk’s assassination, as has the late-night television host Jimmy Kimmel.

A website called “Expose Charlie’s Murderers” had been posting the names, locations and employers of people saying critical things about Kirk before it was reportedly taken down. Vice President JD Vance has pushed for this public response, urging supporters to “call them out … hell, call their employer”.

This is far-right “cancel culture”, the likes of which the US hasn’t seen since the McCarthy era in the 1950s.

The birth of McCarthyism

The McCarthy era may well have faded in our collective memory, but it’s important to understand how it unfolded and the impact it had on America. As the philosopher George Santayana once said, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

Since the 1950s, “McCarthyism” has become shorthand for the practice of making unsubstantiated accusations of disloyalty against political opponents, often through fear-mongering and public humiliation.

The term gets its name from Senator Joseph McCarthy, a Republican who was the leading architect of a ruthless witch hunt in the US to root out alleged Communists and subversives across American institutions.

The campaign included both public and private persecutions from the late 1940s to early 1950s, involving hearings before the House Un-American Activities Committee and the Senate’s Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations.

Millions of federal employees had to fill out loyalty investigation forms during this time, while hundreds of employees were either fired or not hired. Hundreds of Hollywood figures were also blacklisted.

The campaign also involved the parallel targeting of the LGBTQI+ community working in government – known as the Lavender Scare.

And similar to doxing today, witnesses in government hearings were asked to provide the names of communist sympathisers, and investigators gave lists of prospective witnesses to the media. Major corporations told employees who invoked the Fifth Amendment and refused to testify they would be fired.

The greatest toll of McCarthyism was perhaps on public discourse. A deep chill settled over US politics, with people afraid to voice any opinion that could be construed as dissenting.

When the congressional records were finally unsealed in the early 2000s, the Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations said the hearings “are a part of our national past that we can neither afford to forget nor permit to reoccur”.

Another witch hunt under Trump

Today, however, a similar campaign is being waged by the Trump administration and others on the right, who are stoking fears of the “the enemy within”.

This new campaign to blacklist government critics is following a similar pattern to the McCarthy era, but is spreading much more quickly, thanks to social media, and is arguably targeting far more regular Americans.

Even before Kirk’s killing, there were worrying signs of a McCarthyist revival in the early days of the second Trump administration.

After Trump ordered the dismantling of public Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) programs, civil institutions, universities, corporations and law firms were pressured to do the same. Some were threatened with investigation or freezing of federal funds.

In Texas, a teacher was accused of guiding Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) squads to suspected non-citizens at a high school. A group called the Canary Mission identified pro-Palestinian green-card holders for deportation. And just this week, the University of California at Berkeley admitted to handing over the names of staff accused of antisemitism.

Supporters of the push to expose those criticising Kirk have framed their actions as protecting the country from “un-American”, woke ideologies. This narrative only deepens polarisation by simplifying everything into a Manichean world view: the “good people” versus the corrupt “leftist elite”.

The fact the political assassination of Democratic lawmaker Melissa Hortman did not garner the same reaction from the right reveals a gross double standard at play.

Another double standard: attempts to silence anyone criticising Kirk’s divisive ideology, while being permissive of his more odious claims. For example, he once called George Floyd, a Black man killed by police, a “scumbag”.

In the current climate, empathy is not a “made-up, new age term”, as Kirk once said, but appears to be highly selective.

This brings an increased danger, too. When neighbours become enemies and dialogue is shut down, the possibilities for conflict and violence are exacerbated.

Many are openly discussing the parallels with the rise of fascism in Germany, and even the possibility of another civil war.

A sense of decency?

The parallels between McCarthyism and Trumpism are stark and unsettling. In both eras, dissent has been conflated with disloyalty.

How far could this go? Like the McCarthy era, it partly depends on the public reaction to Trump’s tactics.

McCarthy’s influence began to wane when he charged the army with being soft on communism in 1954. The hearings, broadcast to the nation, did not go well. At one point, the army’s lawyer delivered a line that would become infamous:

Until this moment, Senator, I think I never really gauged your cruelty or your recklessness […] Have you no sense of decency?

Without concerted, collective societal pushback against this new McCarthyism and a return to democratic norms, we risk a further coarsening of public life.

The lifeblood of democracy is dialogue; its safeguard is dissent. To abandon these tenets is to pave the road towards authoritarianism.

Shannon Brincat, Senior Lecturer in Politics and International Relations, University of the Sunshine Coast; Frank Mols, Senior Lecturer in Political Science, The University of Queensland, and Gail Crimmins, Associate professor, University of the Sunshine Coast

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

There were the respectful and sincere comments condemning the killing. Former President Barack Obama said, “What happened was a tragedy and … I mourn for him and his family.” And former Vice President Mike Pence said, “I’m heartsick about what happened to him.”

But Kirk’s killing also elicited what many saw as inappropriate comments. MSNBC terminated commentator Matthew Dowd after he said, “Hateful thoughts lead to hateful words, which then lead to hateful actions.” American Airlines grounded pilots accused of celebrating Kirk’s death.

Perhaps the most notable reaction to remarks seen as controversial about the Kirk killing hit ABC comedian Jimmy Kimmel. His network suspended him indefinitely after comments that he made about the alleged shooter in Kirk’s death.

Countless defenders of Kimmel quickly responded to his indefinite suspension as an attack on the First Amendment. MSNBC host Chris Hayes posted the following on X: “This is the most straightforward attack on free speech from state actors I’ve ever seen in my life and it’s not even close.”

But is it?

Free speech? It depends

The First Amendment limits government officials from infringing one’s right to free speech and expression.

For example, the government cannot force someone to recite the Pledge of Allegiance or salute the American flag, because the First Amendment, as one Supreme Court justice wrote, “includes both the right to speak freely and the right to refrain from speaking at all.”

And government cannot limit speech that it finds disagreeable while permitting other speech that it favors.

However, the First Amendment does not apply to private employers. With the exception of the 13th Amendment, which generally prohibits slavery, the Constitution applies only to government and those acting on its behalf.

So, as a general rule, employers are free to discipline employees for their speech – even the employees’ speech outside of the workplace. In this way, U.S. Sen. Lindsey Graham correctly said on X, “Free speech doesn’t prevent you from being fired if you’re stupid and have poor judgment.”

This is why Amy Cooper’s employer, an investment firm, was free to terminate her following her 2020 verbal dispute in New York’s Central Park with a bird-watcher over her unleashed dog. She called the police, falsely claiming that the bird-watcher, a Black man, was threatening her life. The incident, captured on video, went viral and Cooper was fired, with her employer saying, “We do not condone racism of any kind.”

This is also why ABC was able to fire Roseanne Barr from the revival of her show, “Roseanne,” after she posted a tweet about Valerie Jarrett, a Black woman who had been a top aide to President Obama, that many viewed as racist.

Threat complicates things

Neither Cooper’s employer nor Barr’s employer faced any government pressure to terminate them.

Kimmel’s indefinite suspension followed a vague threat from the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, Brendan Carr. As complaints about Kimmel’s statement exploded in conservative media, Carr suggested in a podcast interview that Kimmel’s statements could lead to the FCC revoking ABC affiliate stations’ licenses.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Carr said.

But the Supreme Court has been crystal clear. Government officials cannot attempt to coerce private parties in order to punish or suppress views that the government disfavors.

In a 2024 case, National Rifle Association v. Vullo, a unanimous Supreme Court plainly said that the government’s threat of invoking legal sanctions and other coercion to suppress speech it doesn’t like violates the First Amendment. That principle is so profound and fundamental that it got support from every member of an often bitterly divided court.

A threat to revoke broadcast licenses would almost certainly be seen in a court of law as a government action tantamount to coercion. And Carr’s public comments undoubtedly connect that threat to Kimmel’s disfavored comments.

If the FCC had indeed moved to strip ABC affiliates of their licenses to broadcast because of what Kimmel said, ABC and its parent company, Disney, could have sued the FCC to block the license revocations on First Amendment grounds, citing the NRA v. Vullo case.

But the network seemingly caved to the coercive threat instead of fighting for Kimmel. This is why so many are decrying the Kimmel suspension as an attack on free speech and the First Amendment – even though they might not fully understand the law they’re citing.

Wayne Unger, Associate Professor of Law, Quinnipiac University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

After enjoying a carriage ride through the grounds of Windsor Castle with the king, queen and prince and princess of Wales, the president was greeted by the largest guard of honour ever, comprising 1,300 troops and 120 horses. A lunch, private tour of St George’s Chapel and a Red Arrows flypast followed, before the day culminated in a lavish white-tie state banquet.

All this pomp and pageantry has a purpose and a keen eye can spot meaning in most parts of the itinerary.

For example, there were obvious nods to the government’s priorities for this visit throughout the first day, even before the government meetings began. Prime minister Keir Starmer has wanted to focus on tech and defence, so we saw key business leaders, including the head of Apple and CEO of OpenAI, on the guest list for the state banquet.

There was also a clear focus on defence throughout the first day’s proceedings. As well as inspecting the customary guard of honour, the President took part in the “beating the retreat” ceremony – the first time that this historic military parade has been performed at an incoming state visit.

British and American F-35 fighter jets were part of the aerial flypast and when symbolic gifts were exchanged, Trump presented the king with a replica of a President Eisenhower sword. This, he said, was a “reminder of the historical partnership that was critical to winning World War II”.

But perhaps the government’s objectives were seen most clearly in the speeches delivered during the state banquet. King Charles explicitly reminded the President that the UK had agreed “the first trade deal” of any country with his administration, which he said had brought “jobs and growth” to both countries and hoped would allow for them to “go even further as we build this new era of our partnership”.

Most striking of all, however, were the king’s comments on defence. He explicitly told Trump that “in two world wars, we fought together to defeat the forces of tyranny. Today, as tyranny once again threatens Europe, we and our allies stand together in support of Ukraine, to deter aggression and secure peace”.

The first day of any state visit is all about royal pageantry, with discussions of politics usually left for day two. This is because in the UK’s constitutional monarchy, the monarch is bound by the doctrine of political neutrality, which means that the king must remain neutral on political matters.

But some have argued that Charles was, with these comments, straying into politics and went too far. The journalist Michael Wolff said the king was effectively correcting Trump over his failure to strike a peace deal in Ukraine and that the President would have been “super irritated” by the intervention.

However, it is important to note that the king’s words will have been chosen carefully for him by the UK government. This is because Charles is bound by the cardinal convention, a constitutional rule according to which he must act on the advice of the government. All his speeches are written by ministers, and this particular speech reportedly went through many drafts to ensure that the king “pushes the right buttons without crossing political lines”.

The button that this speech was designed to push was peace in Ukraine. After his very public spat with Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy in the Oval Office earlier this year, the UK government has been concerned that Trump is indifferent about who wins the Russia-Ukraine war and favours an appeasement solution with Putin. It wants to get Trump firmly on Ukraine’s side – and thought the king was the best person to deliver this message.

The king is a skilled diplomat whose unrivalled soft power gives him the unique ability to influence some of the biggest political issues of our time. And he seems to get on well with Trump. The king met the President during his first state visit in 2019, wrote to him following his assassination attempt and, unusually, invited him for an unprecedented second state visit with a special hand written note.

There seemed to be genuine warmth between the two men during this second visit. The President, for example, praised the king, describing him as “his friend who everybody loves” and “a great gentleman and a great king”.

And there are signs that this flattery and warmth nullified any potential annoyance over the Ukraine comments. In his own speech, Trump effused that the day was “one of the highest honours” of his life and that “the word ‘special’ does not begin to do justice” to the UK-US relationship.

If the state visit helps increase US support for the British economy and Ukraine, it will be a job well done for the royals.

Francesca Jackson, PhD candidate, Lancaster Law School, Lancaster University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

It is rare to be able to identify the moment when we can say “this is the point at which everything changed”.

So have we reached the point where we can say the United States is in a constitutional crisis? Has American democracy failed? Has the US descended into authoritarianism?

If the answers to those questions weren’t clear already, they are now.

Yes. It is happening. Right now.

Not because of one incident, but a series of moments and choices, events within familiar historical structures, that are pushing the US over the edge.

The assassination of Charlie Kirk, and the choices made by the administration in its aftermath, is one such moment. It was immediately clear the Trump administration would use Kirk’s murder as a pretext for accelerating its authoritarian project, weaponising it to destroy opponents, both real and imagined.

In a video address from the Oval Office, Trump blamed the “radical left” and promised a crackdown on “organizations” that “contributed” to the crime. His vice president, JD Vance, hosted Kirk’s podcast, effectively making it a tool of state-sponsored media.

On that show, White House Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller promised “we are going to use every resource we have at the Department of Justice, Homeland Security and throughout this government to identify, disrupt, dismantle and destroy these networks”.

In the MAGA-verse, terms such as “radical left”, “networks” and “organisations” are code for any form of opposition or dissent – including the Democratic Party and traditional media. It is worth noting here that “radical left” is now shifting to terms as broad as “left-leaning”, progressive or, even more subversive, liberal.

The Trump administration is promising to go after the fundraising architecture of its opposition, broadly defined. And it will. It is already using the agencies of the federal government – including the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Internal Revenue Service – to threaten, punish and obliterate those who oppose it.

And the moments keep coming. On Wednesday, Chair of the Federal Communications Commission, Brendan Carr, appeared on another far-right podcast. Carr – a Project 2025 contributor – suggested that broadcasters running the Jimmy Kimmel Live! show were risking “the possibility of fines or licensed revocation from the FCC” due to Kimmel’s comments about Kirk’s death.

That night, ABC announced that Kimmel’s show would be suspended indefinitely.

Kimmel’s moment follows Stephen Colbert’s. It follows another moment earlier in the week, when Trump berated senior Australian Broadcasting Commission journalist John Lyons, aggressively telling him he was “hurting” Australia and that he would tell the Australian prime minster as much. The ABC has since been barred from Trump’s UK press conference, ostensibly for “logistical reasons”.

In the firehose of these moments, it can be difficult to see them in context. But they are all connected – part of a deliberate, carefully planned program to destroy anyone or anything that opposes or even questions Republican orthodoxy as defined by Trump.

The Kirk moment, the Kimmel moment, and all the rest, must be understood in that broader framework. This week, too, the Trump administration announced it was deploying the National Guard into Memphis, Tennessee. It will likely also send the National Guard into Chicago, as it has long been threatening. It has already despatched the National Guard into Los Angeles and Washington DC.

Trump and his cronies are openly musing about other “Democrat cities”. The point is to sow fear and suppress dissent. It is working.

This month, in the aftermath of a meeting with his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin, Trump promised to end mail-in voting. The Trump-aligned Supreme Court is poised to gut a key provision of the Voting Rights Act intended to prevent racial discrimination. The mid-term elections are still over a year away.

Incredibly, we are only eight months into the second Trump administration. But the moments will keep coming, and the speed at which they arrive will likely accelerate.

Taken together, they paint a very grim picture for the future of US democracy, constrained though it already is. The widespread, coordinated suppression of dissent – and the extended chilling effect that suppression has – are ripping apart the fabric of American political life.

It is here. It is happening. History is being made before our eyes.

This is a monumental change. For the United States. For the world.

Emma Shortis, Adjunct Senior Fellow, School of Global, Urban and Social Studies, RMIT University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

“The radical left causes tremendous violence,” he said, asserting that “they seem to do it in a bigger way” than groups on the right.

Top presidential adviser Stephen Miller also weighed in after Kirk’s killing, saying that left-wing political organizations constitute “a vast domestic terror movement.”

“We are going to use every resource we have … throughout this government to identify, disrupt, dismantle and destroy these networks and make America safe again,” Miller said.

But policymakers and the public need reliable evidence and actual data to understand the reality of politically motivated violence. From our research on extremism, it’s clear that the president’s and Miller’s assertions about political violence from the left are not based on actual facts.

Based on our own research and a review of related work, we can confidently say that most domestic terrorists in the U.S. are politically on the right, and right-wing attacks account for the vast majority of fatalities from domestic terrorism.

Political violence rising

The understanding of political violence is complicated by differences in definitions and the recent Department of Justice removal of an important government-sponsored study of domestic terrorists.

Political violence in the U.S. has risen in recent months and takes forms that go unrecognized. During the 2024 election cycle, nearly half of all states reported threats against election workers, including social media death threats, intimidation and doxing.

Kirk’s assassination illustrates the growing threat. The man charged with the murder, Tyler Robinson, allegedly planned the attack in writing and online.

This follows other politically motivated killings, including the June assassination of Democratic Minnesota state Rep. and former House Speaker Melissa Hortman and her husband.

These incidents reflect a normalization of political violence. Threats and violence are increasingly treated as acceptable for achieving political goals, posing serious risks to democracy and society.

Defining ‘political violence’

This article relies on some of our research on extremism, other academic research, federal reports, academic datasets and other monitoring to assess what is known about political violence.

Support for political violence in the U.S. is spreading from extremist fringes into the mainstream, making violent actions seem normal. Threats can move from online rhetoric to actual violence, posing serious risks to democratic practices.

But different agencies and researchers use different definitions of political violence, making comparisons difficult.

The FBI and Department of Homeland Security define domestic violent extremism as threats involving actual violence. They do not investigate people in the U.S. for constitutionally protected speech, activism or ideological beliefs.

Domestic violent extremism is defined by the FBI and Department of Homeland Security as violence or credible threats of violence intended to influence government policy or intimidate civilians for political or ideological purposes. This general framing, which includes diverse activities under a single category, guides investigations and prosecutions.

Datasets compiled by academic researchers use narrower and more operational definitions. The Global Terrorism Database counts incidents that involve intentional violence with political, social or religious motivation.

These differences mean that the same incident may or may not appear in a dataset, depending on the rules applied.

The FBI and Department of Homeland Security emphasize that these distinctions are not merely academic. Labeling an event “terrorism” rather than a “hate crime” can change who is responsible for investigating an incident and how many resources they have to investigate it.

For example, a politically motivated shooting might be coded as terrorism in federal reporting, cataloged as political violence by the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data Project, and prosecuted as homicide or a hate crime at the state level.

Patterns in incidents and fatalities

Despite differences in definitions, several consistent patterns emerge from available evidence.

Politically motivated violence is a small fraction of total violent crime, but its impact is magnified by symbolic targets, timing and media coverage.

In the first half of 2025, 35% of violent events tracked by University of Maryland researchers targeted U.S. government personnel or facilities – more than twice the rate in 2024.

Right-wing extremist violence has been deadlier than left-wing violence in recent years.

Based on government and independent analyses, right-wing extremist violence has been responsible for the overwhelming majority of fatalities, amounting to approximately 75% to 80% of U.S. domestic terrorism deaths since 2001.

Illustrative cases include the 2015 Charleston church shooting, when white supremacist Dylann Roof killed nine Black parishioners; the 2018 Tree of Life synagogue attack in Pittsburgh, where 11 worshippers were murdered; the 2019 El Paso Walmart massacre, in which an anti-immigrant gunman killed 23 people. The 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, an earlier but still notable example, killed 168 in the deadliest domestic terrorist attack in U.S. history.

By contrast, left-wing extremist incidents, including those tied to anarchist or environmental movements, have made up about 10& to 15% of incidents and less than 5% of fatalities.

Examples include the Animal Liberation Front and Earth Liberation Front arson and vandalism campaigns in the 1990s and 2000s, which were more likely to target property rather than people.

Violence occurred during Seattle May Day protests in 2016, with anarchist groups and other demonstrators clashing with police. The clashes resulted in multiple injuries and arrests. In 2016, five Dallas police officers were murdered by a heavily armed sniper who was targeting white police officers.

Hard to count

There’s another reason it’s hard to account for and characterize certain kinds of political violence and those who perpetrate it.

The U.S. focuses on prosecuting criminal acts rather than formally designating organizations as terrorist, relying on existing statutes such as conspiracy, weapons violations, RICO provisions and hate crime laws to pursue individuals for specific acts of violence.

Unlike foreign terrorism, the federal government does not have a mechanism to formally charge an individual with domestic terrorism. That makes it difficult to characterize someone as a domestic terrorist.

The State Department’s Foreign Terrorist Organization list applies only to groups outside of the United States. By contrast, U.S. law bars the government from labeling domestic political organizations as terrorist entities because of First Amendment free speech protections.

Rhetoric is not evidence

Without harmonized reporting and uniform definitions, the data will not provide an accurate overview of political violence in the U.S.

But we can make some important conclusions.

Politically motivated violence in the U.S. is rare compared with overall violent crime. Political violence has a disproportionate impact because even rare incidents can amplify fear, influence policy and deepen societal polarization.

Right-wing extremist violence has been more frequent and more lethal than left-wing violence. The number of extremist groups is substantial and skewed toward the right, although a count of organizations does not necessarily reflect incidents of violence.

High-profile political violence often brings heightened rhetoric and pressure for sweeping responses. Yet the empirical record shows that political violence remains concentrated within specific movements and networks rather than spread evenly across the ideological spectrum. Distinguishing between rhetoric and evidence is essential for democracy.

Trump and members of his administration are threatening to target whole organizations and movements and the people who work in them with aggressive legal measures – to jail them or scrutinize their favorable tax status. But research shows that the majority of political violence comes from people following right-wing ideologies.

Art Jipson, Associate Professor of Sociology, University of Dayton and Paul J. Becker, Associate Professor of Sociology, University of Dayton

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Bella Ciao (literally, “hello beautiful” or “goodbye beautiful”) is a traditional Italian folk song known for its association with the anti-fascist resistance in Italy during the second world war.

It has since moved beyond its usage as an Italian resistance song, appearing internationally in TV series, video games and TikTok videos.

It’s unclear how the reference on the bullet casings was intended to be read, but here’s what we know about the song, and its ties to the history of Fascism in Italy.

What is Fascism?

Fascism was a political movement conceived in Italy. It came to power for the first time in 1922 with the “March on Rome” of the fascist “Black Shirt” squadrons, led by Benito Mussolini.

The movement reframed the concept of freedom in society as possible only under the rule of a dictator.

Traits included the repression of political opposition, complete control of the media, intense propaganda campaigns and racial laws.

Atrocities were committed, including with military invasions and occupations in Africa in attempts to recreate an Italian empire.

Fascism in Italy coincided with advancements in the economy and industrialisation. By the 1930s, fascist political movements appeared across Europe including in the United Kingdom, Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania, Poland, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Greece, Yugoslavia, Spain, Portugal, Norway and, most notably, in Germany.

A common misconception today is to equate Fascism and Nazism. Fascism refers to a broad array of often contradictory authoritarian political philosophies. German Nazism falls under the broad banner of fascism, but there was only one Nazism, based in specific theories of racist suprematism.

The definition of fascism has always been ambiguous, but after the demise of the Italian Fascist and German Nazi regimes, it lost much of its political meaning in commonplace use.

In a 1946 article for the Tribune newspaper, George Orwell declared:

the word Fascism has now no meaning except in so far as it signifies ‘something not desirable’.

Giving examples such as referring to someone who adheres to a strict diet as a “health-fascist”, or someone who advocates for the environment as an “eco-fascist”, in 2013, political theorist Roger Griffin noted:

The term ‘fascism’ continues to be bandied about by those clearly more interested in its seemingly inexhaustible polemical force than in anything resembling historical or political fact.

Some scholars in Fascism, such as Ruth Ben Ghiat, warn against the authoritarian tendencies of leaders including Donald Trump.

But the unwieldy labelling of politicians or commentators operating within democratic systems of government as “Fascist” is misguided. It dilutes the meaning and memory of Fascism.

What is the song Bella Ciao?

Like many traditional songs, the origins of Bella Ciao are not definitively known.

The melody is thought to date back to 1919. The first documentation of the lyrics is from 1953.

Oral traditions trace the origin of the meaning to the Apennine mountains in the Italian region of Emilia. There, during the second world war, anti-fascist fighters with modest resources stood up to the power of the Fascist regime.

The lyrics recount the solemn story of a fighter bidding farewell to his loved one, preparing to sacrifice his life for liberty.

In Italy, the song has become revered as an almost sacred tribute, sung on occasions such as the anniversary of the liberation of the country from Fascist rule in 1945.

In recent years, Bella Ciao has become popular outside of Italy. It featured in the Spanish Netflix series Money Heist (2017) and on the soundtrack of the first person shooter video game Far Cry 6 (2021).

With a catchy tune and innocuous chorus, Bella Ciao has been remixed in dance music, and featured on TikTok videos. These adaptations pay limited or no attention to the political meaning.

But some new uses of the song, while drawing on its uninformed popularity, are politically reinfusing it for purposes different to its original context.

In October 2024, members of the European Parliament on the political left chanted the chorus in response to a speech by Prime Minister of Hungary Viktor Orban.

No formal explanation was given, but here the use of the song can be understood as a loose attempt to indirectly associate Orban with Fascism.

Making meaning

Bella Ciao has developed conflicting meanings, stemming, at least in part, from the many modern meanings and interpretations of Fascism.

We do not know what was intended by inscribing bullet casings with this traditional song, or what the inscriber’s understanding of Fascism and Nazism are.

But by understanding all of these conflicts, we can avoid collapsing the meanings into a single, monolithic phenomenon – and avoid the dangers of trivialisation and misappropriation.

Justin Mallia, PhD Candidate in Art History and Theory, Monash University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Since Kirk’s death last week, a number of his followers from the Christian right have ascribed him the title of “martyr”. President Donald Trump himself called Kirk a “martyr for truth and freedom”.

Similarly, Rob McCoy, a pastor emeritus from California, said at a Sunday morning church service

Today, we celebrate the life of Charlie Kirk, a 31-year-old God-fearing Christian man, a husband, father of two, a patriot, a civil rights activist, and now a Christian martyr.

Looking back at the history of martyrdom offers insight into what it means for Kirk to be hailed a martyr, both for his memory, and for the future of the United States.

From witness to criminal to witness again

The term martyr emerged in ancient law courts with the Greek word martus, meaning a witness or person who gives testimony.

From their earliest days, Christians appropriated it to refer to those who testified to the gospel of Jesus Christ. The gospel of Luke even concludes with Jesus telling his disciples: “You are witnesses – martyres – of these things” (Luke 24:48).

Early Christians regularly ran afoul of Roman authorities, and were brought to court as criminals. The charges generally revolved around questionable loyalty to the Roman state and religion. Could someone worship Jesus and also offer sacrifice to the traditional gods, including the emperor or his divine spirit (his “genius”)?

Christians and Romans alike thought not. From the 2nd century onward, accounts of these trials centred on a single question: “are you a Christian?”. If the answer was “yes”, execution followed.

For local authorities, the executed person was a criminal. But for fellow Christians, they were witnesses to the truth of the gospel, and their deaths were evidence of the Christian God. They were both witness and testimony – “martyrs” in every sense.

In 2004, scholar of early Christianity, Elizabeth Castelli, argued martyrs are born only after their death. The martyr isn’t a fact, but a figure produced by the stories told about them, and the honour afforded them in ritual commemorations. A person isn’t a martyr until other people within a specific community decide they are.

To understand what makes someone a martyr, we have to ask two questions:

1. what are they a witness to? As in, what ideal or cause led to their death and how did their death testify to it?
2. who are they a witness for? Who tells their story and who calls them a martyr?

Boundaries and borderline cases

The history of martyrdom is also a history of debates over what kind of death “counts”, and what role martyrs play in the church.

Questionable cases have accumulated through the decades. Some “martyrs” volunteered eagerly, perhaps too eagerly.

On April 29 304 CE, an archdeacon named Euplus stood outside the city council chamber in Catania, Sicily, shouting: “I want to die; I am a Christian”. After some discussion, the governor sentenced him to torture and he died of his injuries. Was this martyrdom, or suicide?

Under Christian emperors from the 4th century on, soldiers who died fighting Persians (or later Arabs) also came to be called martyrs. A soldier’s death is especially considered martyrdom if they fought against members of a different religion.

However, the soldier-martyr label has also raised anxieties. The most recent example came from the troubling claim by Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kyrill that Russian soldiers who die fighting in Ukraine are martyrs – despite fighting fellow Orthodox Christians. What do these soldiers testify to?

The stories of martyrs define community borders. Those who kill martyrs tend to be treated as enemies of the faith, whether they are Roman authorities, enemy combatants, or even people assumed to be complicit in the event.

The MAGA martyr

Let’s apply the two questions above to Charlie Kirk, who has been dubbed both “martyr” and “patron saint of MAGA”.

What would Kirk be a martyr to? To his supporters and those on the MAGA right, he died for free speech, for Judeo-Christian values, for a commitment to “Western civilisation”, and supposedly for the “truth” itself.

To others, especially those he attacked and denigrated publicly – such as queer and trans people, immigrants, Muslims and feminists – he died for white nationalism, hatred and exclusion.

This takes us back to the second question: who is Charlie Kirk a martyr for? Clearly, the answer to this is Christian nationalists, MAGA supporters and the broader American right.

He testified in life to their shared beliefs and values, and in death is their “patron saint”. The legacy of Kirk’s death will be to define who is part of this community, and who is excluded. The question then is, will a division framed in such polarising terms come to define American society as a whole?

From revenge to love

Following Kirk’s death, people on the far-right called for violent revenge against the left – even though the shooting suspect’s political motivations are unknown.

Media have reported a surge in radicalisation on right-wing platforms. There was even a website, now removed, dedicated to doxxing anyone who spoke negatively about Kirk and using that information to get them fired.

Against this rhetoric of revenge, the history of martyrdom offers a different way forward. The early theologian, Clement of Alexandria, said someone becomes a martyr not because of their death, but because of their love.

The only true witness, he argued, is love, because God is love. The only honour one can offer the martyrs is to love as they loved. Clement suggests it’s possible to reject vengeance and sectarianism, even if one loves the martyrs.

Jonathan L. Zecher, Associate Professor, Institute for Religion and Critical Inquiry, Australian Catholic University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

That version of Watergate has long dominated popular understanding of the scandal, which unfolded over 26 months beginning in June 1972.

It is, however, a simplistic trope that not even Watergate-era principals at the Post embraced.

For example, the newspaper’s publisher during Watergate, Katharine Graham, pointedly rejected that interpretation during a program 25 years ago at the now-defunct Newseum in suburban Virginia.

“Sometimes, people accuse us of ‘bringing down a president,’ which of course we didn’t do, and shouldn’t have done,”Graham said. “The processes that caused [Nixon’s] resignation were constitutional.”

Graham’s words, however accurate and incisive, scarcely altered the dominant popular interpretation of Watergate. If anything, the intervening 25 years have solidified the “heroic-journalist” myth of Watergate, which I address and dismantle in my book “Getting It Wrong: Debunking the Greatest Myths in American Journalism.”

Impact exaggerated

However popular, the heroic-journalist myth is a vast exaggeration of the effect of their work.

Woodward and Bernstein did disclose financial links between Nixon’s reelection campaign and the burglars arrested June 17, 1972, at headquarters of the Democratic National Committee, in what was the signal crime of Watergate.

They publicly tied prominent Washington figures, such as Nixon’s former attorney general, John Mitchell, to the scandal.

They won a Pulitzer Prize for the Post.

But they missed decisive elements of Watergate, notably the payment of hush money to the burglars and the existence of Nixon’s White House tapes.

Nonetheless, the heroic-journalist myth became so entrenched that it could withstand disclaimers by Watergate-era principals at the Post such as Graham. Even Woodward has disavowed the heroic-journalist interpretation, once telling an interviewer that “the mythologizing of our role in Watergate has gone to the point of absurdity, where journalists write … that I, single-handedly, brought down Richard Nixon.

"Totally absurd.”

So why not take Woodward at his word? Why has the heroic-journalist interpretation of Watergate persisted through the 50 years since burglars linked to Nixon’s campaign were arrested at the Watergate complex in Washington?

Glosses over intricacies

Like most media myths, the heroic-journalist interpretation of Watergate rests on a foundation of simplicity. It glosses over the scandal’s intricacies and discounts the far more crucial investigative work of special prosecutors, federal judges, the FBI, panels of both houses of Congress, and the Supreme Court.

It was, after all, the court’s unanimous ruling in July 1974, ordering Nixon to surrender tapes subpoenaed by the Watergate special prosecutor, that sealed the president’s fate. The recordings captured Nixon, six days after the burglary, agreeing to a plan to deter the FBI from pursuing its Watergate investigation.

The tapes were crucial to determining that Nixon had obstructed justice. Without them, he likely would have served out his presidential term. That, at least, was the interpretation of the late Stanley Kutler, one of Watergate’s leading historians, who noted: “You had to have that kind of corroborative evidence to nail the president of the United States.”

The heroic-journalist myth, which began taking hold even before Nixon resigned, has been sustained by three related influences.

One was Woodward and Bernstein’s “All the President’s Men,” the well-timed memoir about their reporting. “All the President’s Men” was published in June 1974 and quickly reached the top of The New York Times bestseller list, remaining there 15 weeks, through Nixon’s resignation and beyond. The book inescapably promoted the impression Woodward and Bernstein were vital to Watergate’s outcome.

More so than the book, the cinematic adaptation of “All the President’s Men” placed Woodward and Bernstein at the decisive center of Watergate’s unraveling. The movie, which was released in April 1976 and starred Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman, was relentlessly media-centric, ignoring the work of prosecutors and the FBI.

The book and movie introduced Woodward’s super-secret source, “Deep Throat.” For 31 years after Nixon’s resignation, Washington periodically engaged publicly in guessing games about the source’s identity. Such speculation sometimes pointed to W. Mark Felt, a former senior FBI official.

Felt brazenly denied having been Woodward’s source. Had he been “Deep Throat,” he once told a Connecticut newspaper, “I would have done better. I would have been more effective.”

The “who-was-Deep-Throat” conjecture kept Woodward, Bernstein and the heroic-journalist myth at the center of Watergate conversations. Felt was 91 when, in 2005, he acknowledged through his family’s lawyer that he had been Woodward’s source after all.

It’s small wonder that the heroic-journalist myth still defines popular understanding of Watergate. Other than Woodward and Bernstein, no personalities prominent in Watergate were the subjects of a bestselling memoir, the inspiration for a star-studded motion picture, and the protectors of a mythical source who eluded conclusive identification for decades.

W. Joseph Campbell, Professor of Communication Studies, American University School of Communication

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The film pushes hard against the gendered conventions of the sci-fi genre, re-pointing them to unexpected ends.

Inner growth in outer space

The film is structured around a basic quest narrative. Can introspective Princess Saira rescue her ex-girlfriend, Kiki, from the evil clutches of a rogue group of incels known as the Straight White Maliens?

Low on self-confidence and belittled by her royal lesbian mothers, Saira sustains an unshakeable attachment to Kiki, a soft-butch bounty hunter who is as attachment avoidant as Saira is clingy.

Saira battles through the beautifully drawn pink-hued reaches of constellations and moonscapes in a spaceship (depressively voiced by Richard Roxburgh). As she reluctantly traverses outer space, she must step up to its greatest challenge: plumbing the messy depths of her inner world.

Saira hails from Clitopolis, a place reputed to be hard to find but actually quite easy (one of many running jokes that tap into lesbian takes on heterosexual inadequacy). She has grown up in an exclusively gay space, kept safe by the bubble of drag.

But once this camp seam is pierced, she finds herself in a masculinist universe dominated by Straight White Maliens and others determined to steal her totemic labrys. The Maliens appear as cigarette shapes devoid of colour. Their differences are delineated only by the amount of anger and frustration conveyed in their single-line eyebrows.

They hector and rage in their aptly named man cave, where they train themselves in the old arts of mansplaining and making non-consensual advances. Desperate to pull “hot chicks”, the Maliens have no idea how to build relationships with women.

On the other hand, the lesbians don’t seem to know how not to. They meet, they crush, have great sex, and then the intensity of attachments gets too much. Almost instantly, one starts “friendzoning” the other.

This take on next-gen lesbian relationships is an amusing counter to the slow-burn tedium of the sapphic costume dramas that have won so many fans, chief among them Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019).

Like the Wachowskis’ Bound (1996) and David Lynch’s Mulholland Dr. (2001), Lesbian Space Princess comes from the counter-tradition in which the sex happens early – then gives way to the ecstatic pulses and rhythms of story.

In this case, the outer-space story is the stimulus for an inner journey in which Saira comes to understand herself differently. She comes to see herself not as a needy young princess capable of pleasuring others with her magic hands (astute viewers will notice she has been gifted an extra finger on each hand), but as a competent, caring and self-reliant person.

Affect over adventure

Ultimately, Lesbian Space Princess delivers Saira to her destiny as a quirky and isolated royal whose emotional sustenance comes from self-love rather than crushes. This character development arc is supported by the guitar-based songs laced through the frenetically paced genre mayhem of the film.

Derived from familiar indie genres, the songs are a welcome respite from the propulsive quest mechanism that drives the story.

Beginning with a comic scene of Ed Sheeran busking in outer space, the songs bring depth to the flatly drawn world of the space adventure story. The musical interludes are drawn and filmed with the spatial depth of Japanese anime. They’re more in line with the psychic dreaminess of Hayao Miyazaki than the many 90s animations that inspired the noodle-armed citizens of Clitopolis.

This inward turn enables Saira to ditch both Kiki, the outlaw ex, and Willow, her emo-goth replacement. With the girlfriends out of the picture, the film achieves sentimental closure by zooming in on the odd-couple friendship that has developed between Saira and the jalopy of a spaceship that has been supporting her all along.

Rather than provide lesbian romantic satisfaction or ground its utopian energies in the bold new world of queer community, Lesbian Space Princess lands in the relatively unexplored space of allosexuality. The way desire is experienced by the self is more important than who or what it is directed toward.

Lesbian Space Princess is in cinemas now.

Lee Wallace, Professor, Film Studies, University of Sydney

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Alfonso Serrano, a politics editor at The Conversation, spoke with University of Massachusetts Lowell scholar Arie Perliger after Kirk’s shooting. Perliger studies political violence and assassinations and spoke bluntly about political polarization in the United States.

Serrano: What were your initial thoughts after Charlie Kirk’s fatal shooting?

Perliger: It was a bit unusual that the attack was not against an elected official. Rarely have we seen political assassinations that are aimed at the nonprofit political landscape. Usually those people are not deemed important enough.

Secondly, and it’s something I see a lot in my research, political assassinations come in waves. We see that not only in the United States but other countries. I’ve looked at political assassinations in many democracies, and one of the things I see in a fairly consistent manner is that political assassinations create a process of escalation that encourages others on the extreme political spectrum to feel the need to retaliate. And that is my main concern. That this process creates legitimization and acceptance, that it provides the sense that this is an acceptable form of political action. This will not end here.

In 2024, there were two attempts to assassinate Donald Trump. Then, in early 2025, the residence of Gov. Josh Shapiro in Pennsylvania was firebombed on Passover, and within months the U.S. witnessed the killing of Minnesota state lawmaker Melissa Hortman and her husband, among other acts of political violence. The U.S., of course, is not immune to political violence, as we saw in the 1960s. But what stands out about this latest wave?

The data shows that there’s a substantial increase in the level of threats against officeholders at the local and federal level. What’s different now is we see an increased support in political violence from both sides of the political spectrum. Consistently, almost a quarter of the public is willing to support political violence in some form, or see that as a legitimate form of political action.

And as we see an increased political polarization, and the increased demonization of political rivals, we see the decline and disappearance of political discourse and policymaking. The bipartisan political process in Congress in the past few years has been almost nonexistent. And that spills over to the public, where the other (political) side is seen as a one-dimensional figure that is a threat.

We’ve had political polarization in the U.S. in the past, but usually it was around a specific issue like civil rights in the 1960s and the Vietnam War. But this time there is no specific issue that we can say, “If we solve this, we solve the political polarization.” The problem is that there’s no space for convergence from both sides where they can work together, so there’s no bridges they can rely on to come together.

Does it strike you that Kirk’s assassination occurred on a college campus? It seems as if college campuses have become a flash point of violence in the U.S.

Campuses are becoming more and more contentious spaces. They were always intellectual hubs where political views were debated intensively. Activism was always part of campus life. But what we’ve seen in the past year is that campus life has become in some cases more violent. And the fact that Kirk was killed on a campus is, I think, heartbreaking because campuses symbolize a place where you can engage in political debate in a way that encourages intellectual exploration.

What’s happened in the past year is that campuses are not those spaces anymore. Yes, we still see political activism, but it’s the activism that doesn’t leave any room for actual debate. It’s just two sides that are completely hostile to each other and unwilling to hear each other.

Trump on Wednesday night blamed the media and the “radical left” for language used to describe people like Kirk. He said this rhetoric is “responsible for the terrorism that we’re seeing in our country today.” Any thoughts?

I agree that language and rhetoric impact people’s behavior. I’ve seen that again and again in my studies, that the discourse of political figures impacts the way people think of the legitimacy of violence. Of course, we need to understand the context here, which is that Trump himself was willing to pardon thousands of people who engaged in political violence.

So, on the one hand, I agree with him that political leaders should be responsible for how they discuss political issues. It’s important for them to convey that political discourse can be constructive. However, we need to acknowledge that our own government, in many cases, sends signals that provide encouragement and support that legitimize violence. I think it’s important for politicians on both sides to be consistent in understanding that the way they discuss their political rivals is important.

You’re an expert on the history of political assassinations. How do countries untangle themselves from waves of political violence?

Political leaders need to insist on working together. There are lots of policy areas where politicians can work together. When we see that people can work together within the political system, that sends an important message, that there is a space where we can work together. The second thing is trying to think about how the U.S. can restructure part of the political process to ensure that there is a real competition of ideas, to incentivize a constructive, productive approach that will legitimize those who are willing to engage in constructive policymaking.

Any last thoughts?

As part of my work, I track the most extremist online social media accounts, and what we see right now is a strong sense that this assassination is being celebrated by parts of the left. And that has created an escalation of language from those in the extreme right social media ecosystem. There is much more willingness to discuss issues of retaliation, an actual civil war.

And that’s my biggest worry. If you look at social media, what we see is that both sides embrace this kind of rhetoric that really concerns me. More than ever, I’ve seen calls for retaliation and a strong sense that the other side is unwilling to show any sympathy to what happened. Emotions are running very high, and I’m very worried about what may happen in the next few weeks.

Arie Perliger, Director of Security Studies and Professor of Criminology and Justice Studies, UMass Lowell

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Social scientists have struggled to pinpoint a universal cause for this pattern. Theories run the gamut – from the claim that it has something to do with women being more risk averse to the argument that religion offers women support for social responsibilities around birth, death and raising children.

In the past few years, however, survey data in the U.S. has started to tell a different story. Today, there is less empirical evidence that women are more religious than men – a debate I’ve tracked closely as a quantitative scholar of American religion. Looking at Generation Z, in particular, a number of results have raised some eyebrows, pointing toward other divides throughout the country.

Shrinking gap

In 2023, the American Enterprise Institute’s Survey Center on American Life found that 39% of Gen Z women say they do not have a religious affiliation, compared to 34% of men from the same generation. The past several waves of data from the Cooperative Election Study, a national survey, have found that men born after 1990 – a mix of younger millennials and Gen Z – are slightly more likely to attend religious services weekly than women of the same age.

When I give a lecture or presentation, often the first question I’m asked is about this surprising result.

I warn people to take it with a grain of salt. According to data from the 2022 General Social Survey, one of the most well-respected national polls, the opposite is true: among Americans ages 18-45, women are still more likely to attend a house of worship nearly every week. And the Pew Religious Landscape Study, which was released in February 2025, concludes, “While the gender gap in American religion appears to be narrowing, there are still no birth cohorts in which men are significantly more religious than women.”

All together, a growing body of survey evidence suggests that the overall religiosity of young American adults does not vary significantly by gender.

Anecdotal reports about scores of young men flocking to church or joining religious communities like Eastern Orthodoxy seem to grab headlines. However, the idea of a reversal in the gender gap is not supported by evidence – only that it is narrowing.

Drifting apart

If America’s gender gap around religion is changing, perhaps politics can help explain why.

A growing body of survey data suggests that overall, young men are moving further to the right on political matters, while young women are becoming increasingly progressive.

An NBC News poll in April 2025 found that among people ages 30-44, men were about 9 percentage points more likely to approve of Donald Trump’s job performance than women of the same age. Among those ages 18-29, the gap widened to a staggering 21 points.

A few months later, NBC polled nearly 3,000 young Americans about how they define success, asking them to select the top three factors from a list of 13. Overall, men between 18-29 rated “being married” and “having children” slightly higher than women their age. Among Gen Z men who voted for Trump, having children was the most important. Women who voted for Kamala Harris, meanwhile, ranked children near the bottom.

The largest religious traditions in America today are evangelical Protestant Christianity and the Catholic Church. Both groups’ teachings emphasize “traditional” gender roles, marriage and having children. For a growing wave of young progressive women, such teachings are at odds with their desire to make advances in the workplace and society. Some analysts argue that those tensions, as well as views on LGBTQ+ rights, are driving women away from institutional religion.

Opposite directions

As a result, Generation Z may be the most visible manifestation of the growing “God gap” in American politics.

In short, the religious compositions of the two major political parties have gone in opposite directions. In the 1990s, 67% of Republicans said they believed in God without a doubt, and 63% of Democrats said the same, according to my analysis of General Social Survey data. By 2022, certain belief in God had dropped to 39% among Democrats, while holding fairly steady among Republicans, at 63%. Twenty-eight percent of Democrats regularly attend a house of worship, compared to 42% of Republicans; in the 1970s, the gap was only 4 percentage points.

This all points to a broader, potentially more polarized future for the American public. Already, there is evidence that a growing number of people choose their house of worship based on political tribe, not just theological beliefs, making congregations less diverse. Women’s and men’s competing interests and preferences may make it harder to find a suitable partner. Common ground may be harder to find when there are fewer chances for interaction and conversation.

Ultimately, these trends suggest a future where polarization extends beyond politics and into the very fabric of American life – shaping where people worship, who they marry, and how communities form.

Ryan Burge, Professor of Practice, Danforth Center on Religion and Politics, Washington University in St. Louis

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

A large part of Kirk’s political activism centered on what education should look like. Amy Lieberman, The Conversation’s education editor, spoke with Daniel Ruggles, a scholar of conservative youth activism, to better understand the beliefs about education that influenced Kirk and the connection he tried to make with young people.

What is most important to understand about Charlie Kirk’s views on education?

Charlie Kirk’s education philosophy was founded upon the idea of not being on the left. One of the problems with that approach is that it’s harder to explain your ideas and values in a positive way instead of just being “anti” left.

Conservatives, well before Kirk’s time, have been trying to reclaim education from liberals whom they view as valuing equity and belonging instead of timeless values of order and traditional values in society. This philosophy overall focuses on reclaiming education from liberals.

There is a lot of alignment with Kirk’s education philosophy and the Make America Great Again movement, but his approach predates Donald Trump’s rise. It is focused on returning to what conservatives call Western and “traditional” values. This means rolling back the clock to an idealized time when men and women had set gender roles in society and life was more harmonious and wholesome. At its best, this education philosophy can be valuable – teaching what society views as virtuous behavior, ethics and tradition – but it can also prioritize tradition and privilege over justice and equity.

This philosophy also has to do with not feeling a need to apologize for one’s identity. A big divide between liberals and conservatives is how they explain disadvantage. Conservatives like Kirk believe they should not have to apologize for their identities, and other people’s identities should not be a reason for special treatment.

This philosophy is not so much about making education more effective as much as it is about not being “woke.” De-woking the classroom is usually the overall goal. This involves ridding the classroom of what is known as grievance politics – meaning someone believes they have been marginalized because of their identity, race, gender or sexuality.

How far back can you trace this educational philosophy?

The 1960s had an explosion of progressive activism amid the New Left and antiwar movements as young adults realized that they could now demand certain rights. At the same time, there were a lot of young conservatives on campuses who felt fine with the way things were or who were concerned about some of the more radical ideas promoted by the New Left.

Universities became more inclusive in the 1960s, too. Generally, there were not any gender studies programs at American universities until the 1960s and 1970s, nor were there any race and ethnicity programs. Some conservatives pushed back on the emergence of these programs, saying that if there is an African American studies department, they want to see a conservative studies department, too.

After the 1960s, conservative education fights died down. Conservatives still wanted their voices heard on campus, but their merit-only based education philosophy seemed less relevant when left-wing campus protests had declined significantly.

How did Charlie Kirk capitalize on the conservative feelings regarding education?

Kirk founded his political nonprofit, Turning Point USA, in 2012. Kirk didn’t originally support Trump, but he became friends with Donald Trump Jr., and eventually became close with the president. Like Trump, Kirk saw academia as the source of a plethora of problems in American society. His goal was to make college campuses more friendly to conservative students by making conservative ideas like free market economics and traditional gender roles more popular.

There was a lot of foundation laying over time for Kirk’s conservative education philosophy. Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, attack in Israel, as well as the subsequent war in Gaza and Palestinian rights protests in the U.S., offered a moment for conservatives like Kirk to brand progressives at schools as this huge threat.

What was Kirk’s tour focused on accomplishing?

Kirk and others in the conservative youth movement want their followers to have a close relationship with them. This helps conservatives influence government and society, using college campuses to recruit young adults as conservative voters and activists, making the university appear less progressive in the process. Let’s say progressive college kids have Bernie Sanders or Che Guevara posters hanging in their dorm rooms. Conservatives like Kirk have built an all-encompassing, alternative world for young conservatives to become involved in, where they have proximity to political and thought leaders, including Kirk. Turning Point has used flashy slogans, signs and bumper stickers to help make conservatism cool on campus.

Kirk’s tour had just begun, but he had planned to make stops at universities in Colorado, Utah, Minnesota, Montana and other states. It was important that Kirk himself was in the room with young people, and that they could ask him questions and talk with him. He was considered approachable in a way that most politicians would not be.

Conservatives have used this strategy for a long time. My own research shows how college students would write to conservative leaders like Ronald Reagan and William F. Buckley in the 1960s and 1970s and these figures would write back. This kind of proximity between leaders and young supporters isn’t seen on the left. The goal is to cultivate a conservative movement community. Many of those conservative college students later worked for the government. Kirk’s tour was about continuing that kind of direct relationship between conservative leaders and young people.

Conservatives have a pipeline – meaning, let’s say you’re in high school and you discover conservative ideas by watching Charlie Kirk on YouTube. In college, you can go to Turning Point events and meet conservative leaders. After you graduate, you can even get a job with a conservative group through websites like ConservativeJobs.com. The point of the pipeline is to always give young conservatives a next step to becoming more involved in politics. While not everyone follows this pipeline, it helps the conservative movement cultivate new generations of talent. I think Kirk had a lot he was trying to accomplish, including building up a reservoir of young talent through Turning Point.

How is Turning Point distinct from the Republican Party and MAGA?

Turning Point isn’t the same as the Republican Party, but it’s helping to push the party further to the right. Turning Point has alienated other members of the conservative movement in certain ways. In 2018, the conservative youth group Young America’s Foundation accused Turning Point of taking over the conservative youth movement and crowding out other groups. Turning Point’s total revenue has grown considerably in the last few years, topping US$85 million in 2024 – that matters because money and attention help Turning Point push out other conservative voices.

Kirk and Trump agreed on a lot of policy issues. Kirk used Turning Point to define conservatism on his terms and to defend Trump. Education is the bulk of Turning Point’s work, a continuation of what has historically also been been the most important cultural issue on the right since the 1960s.

Daniel Ruggles, PhD Candidate in Politics, Brandeis University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

To achieve this, he has torn apart his family. He has also ensured his media outlets, especially Fox News, remain committed to his hard right-wing views.

With hindsight, this deal was inevitable. The 94-year-old mogul had just one remaining job to do as chairman emeritus of News Corp: to ensure that when he dies, the company he built and moulded remains in his image.

This announcement says he has found a way, which may give him some comfort but is profoundly disappointing to anyone who cares about public interest journalism.

There’s no longer any prospect of his children from his first and second marriages, Prudence, Elisabeth and James, who are now known as the “departing beneficiaries”, staging a coup after his death to wrest control from Rupert’s chosen successor and elder son Lachlan, who has headed News Corporation and Fox Corporation since Murdoch stepped aside in 2023.

Lachlan has taken a lesson from Rupert’s dealmaking playbook. He has thrown money at the problem by paying his three siblings more than he had previously offered for their respective shares. According to The New York Times, the three siblings will receive US$1.1 billion (A$1.7 billion) each for all their shares in the company.

Their agreement brings an end to the bitter battle the three siblings fought with their father and brother over the latter’s infamous attempt to revoke a seemingly irrevocable trust created at the end of Murdoch’s longest marriage, of 32 years, to Anna Murdoch (now Anna Maria dePeyster).

She had hated how her husband pitted their children against one another in the battle for succession, so she negotiated an agreement that would give each of the four children from the first two marriages a vote in the family trust. It also ensured Rupert retained enough votes in the trust so he could not be outvoted by his four (voting) children.

When Rupert anointed Lachlan his successor, upsetting the others, speculation was aired that when Rupert died, and his votes with him, the three siblings might oust Lachlan as chief executive and take control of the company. Worse, in Rupert’s eyes, they might change the editorial direction of the company, in particular Fox News.

That is what has changed. The family trust has also been re-engineered with an increased lifespan from 2030 to 2050, and folds in Murdoch’s daughters from his third marriage, to Wendi Deng – Grace and Chloe. This shores up the trust so they can’t sell out and dilute Lachlan’s shareholding.

Under the deal, a new company called Holdco, owned by Lachlan, Grace and Chloe, will own all the remaining shares of News Corp and Fox Corporation that previously had been held by the Murdoch family trust. The departing beneficiaries will sell their personal holdings in News Corp and Fox so none of them has any interest in either business. What’s more, they’ve agreed to a standstill clause that prevents them or their affiliates buying back in.

In 2019 alone, the company News Corporation made a reported US$71 billion (A$107 billion) from the sale of its entertainment assets to Disney. After that sale, the children were each given US$2 billion (just over A$3 billion).

Having already been referred to in the litigation as “white, privileged, multi billionaire trust-fund babies”, the three departing siblings have been made even wealthier by this agreement.

It was announced in a company press release on September 8 with an uncharacteristically sedate headline: “News Corp announces resolution of Murdoch family trust matter”.

It appears the decision to settle was in part driven by signals emanating from the probate court in Reno, which last year ruled in favour of Prudence, Elisabeth and James. Recently, however, the presiding appellate judge, Lynne Jones, appeared supportive of Rupert and Lachlan, saying “Who knows better than Rupert Murdoch the strengths and weaknesses of his family and his children?”

This may have weakened the three children’s bargaining power and forced them to accept some sort of buyout.

James may have contributed to this by granting an interview to The Atlantic which was published in February, in which he was highly critical of his father and gave away inside information from the probate hearings. Rupert and Lachlan’s lawyers pushed for James to be punished, a move that appeared to have support from the Reno court.

Clearly it was wishful thinking to believe Prudence, Elisabeth and James would stage a takeover and restore sensible programming to the Murdoch media. But it remains an irony, in a case replete with them, that it was James’ candid comments in an insightful 13,000-word profile casting much-needed light on a notoriously secretive family, which weakened the three siblings’ bargaining position.

Those comments helped ensure Rupert, and ultimately Lachlan, will be able to continue running their media empire as they see fit. Initially, that will mean little change, which is of course the problem. If News mastheads and Fox News continue as they have, we can look forward to more coverage denying the need to urgently act on climate change, more distortion of important issues and more support for assaults on democracy by the Trump administration. This is the kind of content that prompted James, if not all of the departing beneficiaries, to protest in the first place.

At least now we know the answer to this question: What choice would three multi billionaires make if they were offered another billion dollars each or the opportunity to transform a global media business for the better?

Andrew Dodd, Professor of Journalism, Director of the Centre for Advancing Journalism, The University of Melbourne and Matthew Ricketson, Professor of Communication, Deakin University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Trump fired the first shot on Jan. 21, 2025 – his first full day back in office – when he signed an executive order that denounced DEI as “immoral” and “illegal discrimination.” The order claimed that, under such policies, “hardworking Americans” were being “shut out of opportunities because of their race or sex.”

A week later, Trump dismissed two Democratic commissioners of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, the federal agency that helps enforce workplace antidiscrimination laws. Because these officials were forced out years before their terms expired, their firing was arguably illegal. But it allowed Trump to dramatically shift the commission’s focus.

Andrea Lucas, named by Trump to be the agency’s acting chair, quickly announced a commitment to what she described as “rooting out unlawful DEI-motivated race and sex discrimination.”

Since then, there’s been a steady drumbeat of anti-DEI statements from the administration and its supporters. But these proclamations fail to explain what is illegal about so-called “illegal DEI.” As professors and workplace law experts, we recognize that companies may have trouble distinguishing political rhetoric from legal obligations. That’s why we recently co-founded The Legal DEI Project, a free resource providing clear information on DEI policies and practices and the law.

Chilling effect

The Trump administration’s statements about DEI are generally broad in scope and short on details, leading to an overall chilling effect on private businesses.

For example, one of Trump’s executive orders suggests, without evidence, that corporations and other large employers have replaced a commitment to “hard work” with an “unlawful, corrosive, and pernicious identity-based spoils system.” It then instructs federal agencies to compile lists of the businesses and other institutions they believe are the “most egregious and discriminatory DEI practitioners” and pursue compliance investigations against them.

Some employers have responded to this threat by aggressively slashing their programs and personnel dedicated to ensuring fairness at work. That reaction is understandable. But it is also deeply mistaken, as many tried-and-true practices that effectively reduce workplace discrimination are getting caught in a dragnet of anti-DEI fever.

Employers who act rashly by simply abandoning all efforts related to diversity and inclusion may actually increase rather than decrease their risk of being sued by workers who believe they have experienced discrimination – the overwhelming majority of whom are members of racial minority groups rather than white workers.

Employers could also miss out on the benefits that can flow from diverse workforces, such as higher profits, innovation and creativity.

DEI isn’t illegal, but discrimination is

DEI is a generic, umbrella term used to describe organizational efforts to treat all people fairly. While such initiatives have been around for decades, the DEI label became common only in the past decade as the Black Lives Matter and #MeToo movements highlighted pervasive discrimination and inequality in U.S. society.

The term, however, has no legal meaning. DEI is instead a collection of aspirational objectives used as corporate or institutional branding, which Trump has turned into a straw man by repeatedly condemning what he alleges is “illegal DEI.”

Workplaces are governed by antidiscrimination laws. Those laws prohibit employers from making hiring or other personnel decisions based on workers’ protected characteristics such as race, sex or religion, just as they did before DEI programs became popular.

This means that employers generally cannot implement preferences for, or limit opportunities to, employees based on these traits. If DEI programs include improper preferences, those preferences were illegal before Trump took office. They should be discontinued.

Importantly, U.S. employment law requires employers to do more than just punish individual employees who make biased decisions or harass co-workers. Employers must also, at a minimum, take proactive steps to prevent harassment and reasonably accommodate workers with qualifying disabilities, pregnancy-related limitations and religious needs.

Employers must also make sure that workplace policies, such as how duties are assigned and how pay is set, are fair and unbiased.

Congress, not the president, creates laws

Multiple laws enacted by Congress, from the 1964 Civil Rights Act to the 2022 Pregnant Workers Fairness Act, and decades of court decisions interpreting those laws, have established the rules that govern the workplace today. The Trump administration has no authority to single-handedly change these laws – or the regulations implementing them – just by issuing executive orders.

What those orders primarily do is set presidential agendas. Presidents use them to direct some actions of the federal government and its contractors, but executive orders do not directly apply to most private companies, nonprofits or other nongovernmental employers.

Although the EEOC may follow Trump’s directives, it cannot change or ignore federal laws. In fact, recent EEOC actions – such as spontaneously demanding information from law firms about their diversity initiatives – that arguably exceed its authority are being challenged in court.

Employees, not the government, file most complaints

When employers attempt to conform to the Trump administration’s political goals by removing any guardrails they’ve put in place to prevent discrimination, they put themselves at greater legal risk. That is because most discrimination lawsuits are brought by employees, not the federal government.

On average, individual employees file 60,000 to 90,000 EEOC charges annually and tens of thousands of lawsuits arising from those charges in federal and state court. By comparison, the EEOC has brought fewer than 150 cases annually in recent years.

While the EEOC’s attack on DEI programs may encourage more white workers to file discrimination claims, the data shows that most actionable discrimination continues to be experienced by women and members of racial minority groups, not by white people.

And that problem is likely to be exacerbated by employers dismantling their DEI programs.

Not a zero-sum game

Just as employing a diverse workforce is perfectly legal, so too is taking action to value diverse perspectives and leadership.

Adopting inclusive recruitment strategies, structuring decision-making practices to be more objective, and assessing job descriptions to focus on tasks and qualifications can all help reduce the influence of racial, gender, religious or other biases in hiring and promotion. Offering training and mentoring, providing support to meet the needs of all workers, and creating environments that promote excellence and belonging can ensure equal access to opportunities for all employees.

Adopting such human resource practices also makes good business sense. When properly executed, they reduce the risk of workplace discrimination lawsuits and liability by flagging any potential discrimination and allowing employers to proactively address it.

Antidiscrimination law has always required employers to judge all workers fairly and on the basis of their merit. Making changes that aim to reduce bias against some employees is not an act of discrimination against white men or others who do not belong to a group that has historically experienced discrimination.

Those changes instead help employers comply with antidiscrimination laws – the same laws that have governed U.S. workplaces for over 60 years and continue to do so today.

Deborah Widiss, Professor of Law and John F. Kimberling Chair, Indiana University; Rachel Arnow-Richman, Professor of Law, University of Florida; Stephanie Bornstein, Professor of Law & William M. Rains Fellow, Loyola Law School Los Angeles, and Tristin Green, Associate Dean for Research and Professor of Law, Loyola Law School Los Angeles

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The two documents are the bookends of the American Revolution. That revolution began with the inspirational language of Thomas Jefferson, who wrote much of the Declaration of Independence; it ended with somber warnings from Washington, the nation’s first president.

After chairing the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia and serving eight years as president, Washington announced in a newspaper essay that he would not seek another term and would return to his home in Mount Vernon. The essay was later known as the “Farewell Address.”

Washington began his essay by observing that “choice and prudence invite me to quit the political scene” while “patriotism does not forbid it.” The new nation would be fine without his continued service.

But Washington’s confidence in the general health of the union was tempered by his worries about dangers that lay ahead – worries that seem startlingly contemporary and relevant 229 years later.

Focus on the domestic

Washington’s Farewell Address is famous for the admonitions “to steer clear of permanent alliances” and to resist the temptation to “entangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambition.”

Important as those warnings are, they are not the main topic of Washington’s message.

During the four decades that I have taught the Farewell Address in classes on American government, I have urged my students to set aside the familiar issues of foreign policy and isolationism and to read the address for what it says about the domestic challenges confronting America.

Those challenges included partisanship, parochialism, excessive public debt, ambitious leaders who could come to power playing off our differences, and a poorly informed public who might sacrifice their own liberties to find relief from divisive politics.

Washington’s address lacks Jefferson’s idealism about equality and inalienable rights. Instead, it offers the realistic assessment that Americans are sometimes foolish and make costly political mistakes.

Rule by ‘ambitious, and unprincipled men’

Partisanship is the primary problem for the American republic, according to Washington.

“It serves always to distract the public councils and enfeeble the public administration,” he wrote. Partisanship “agitates the community with ill founded jealousies and false alarms, kindles the animosity of one part against another, foments occasionally riot and insurrection” and can open “the door to foreign influence and corruption.”

Though political parties, Washington observes, “may now and then answer popular ends,” they can also become “potent engines by which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people and to usurp for themselves the reins of government, destroying afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominion.”

Washington’s fear that partisanship could lead to destruction of the Constitution and to the rule of “ambitious, and unprincipled men” was so important to him that he felt compelled to repeat the warning more than once in the Farewell Address.

Politicians’ ‘elevation on the ruins of public liberty’

The second time Washington takes it up, he says that “the disorders and miseries” of partisanship may “gradually incline the minds of men to seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual.”

Sooner or later, he writes, “the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of his own elevation on the ruins of public liberty.”

So why not outlaw parties and rein in the dangers of partisanship?

Washington observes that this is not possible. The spirit of party “is inseparable from our nature, having its root in the strongest passions of the human mind.”

Americans naturally collect themselves into groups, factions, interests and parties because that’s what human beings do. It’s easier to be connected to local communities, states or regions of the country than to a large and diverse nation; even though that large and diverse nation is, by Washington’s assessment, essential to the security and success of all.

The central problem in American politics is not a matter of devious leaders, foreign intrigue or sectional rivalries — things that will always exist.

The problem, Washington warned, lies with the people.

Excesses of partisanship

By their nature, people divide themselves into groups and then, if not careful, find those divisions used and abused by individual leaders, foreign interests and “artful and enterprising” minorities.

Political parties are dangerous, but can’t be eliminated. According to some people, Washington observes, the competition between parties might serve as a check on the powers of government.

“Within certain limits,” Washington acknowledges, “this is probably true.” But even if the battles between political parties sometimes have a useful purpose, Washington worried about the excesses of partisanship.

Partisanship is like “a fire not to be quenched, it demands a uniform vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest instead of warming it should consume.”

Where is America today? Warmed by the fires of partisanship or consumed by the bursting of flames? George Washington suggested that provocative question more than two centuries ago on Sept. 19, 1796. It’s still worth asking.

Robert A. Strong, Emeritus Professor of Politics, Washington and Lee University; Senior Fellow, Miller Center, University of Virginia

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

That is, they say, there is no list of clients or participants identified by convicted child sex offender Jeffrey Epstein prior to his death by apparent suicide in 2019. No further documents related to the Epstein case would be released.

This announcement angered and confused many among Trump’s core constituency, including prominent loyalists and influencers. Weeks later, alienation among his base continues.

This is puzzling. But in part, it’s unsurprising. Trump’s support base includes the conspiracist “QAnon” believers who are convinced that Democratic Party politicians and donors run a hidden global ring of child sex abuse.

In QAnon circles, it has been practically an article of faith that the Epstein files would validate these accusations against liberal elites. Trump’s release of the files was keenly anticipated. Naturally they’re upset that he and his appointees have changed their tune.

Longtime friendship

Yet their dismay is surprising nonetheless. Trump’s extensive relationship with Epstein has been well known for years. His repeated well wishes for Epstein’s longtime associate, convicted collaborator Ghislaine Maxwell, were widely reported following her sentencing on child sexual trafficking charges.

His comments about “getting away with” walking into beauty pageants’ backstage areas among young women and underage girls wearing “no clothes” were made prominently, on the Howard Stern Show. His base somehow managed to believe Trump was a secret champion of minors against sexual exploitation in the face of his own boasts.

The role of bull----

How could this new development somehow be worse for Trump than his own confessions?

One partial explanation centres on Trump’s use of what’s known as bull---- rhetoric as a weapon against political enemies. Bull---- in this context is a quasi-technical notion meaning, roughly, an indifference to truth or to the audience’s right to truth.

Even most liars respect the truth enough to try and deceive people about it, but the bull------- doesn’t much care either way. As my colleague Jennifer Saul and I have argued in our research, Trump’s brand of authoritarian speech is deliberate and explicit in its bull----. It advertises its status in order to show contempt for one audience, typically as part of a performance of strength for another audience.

This helps explain why Trump’s relentless bull-------- never harmed his standing with his base in the past, and has even buoyed it. His supporters know he’s a bull------, but they recognize he isn’t bull------- them. They are in on the joke, enjoying the spectacle as Trump performs his power over mutual enemies, including political opposition, news media and state institutions.

The new tension over the Epstein files reflects the extent to which some among Trump’s base perceive, perhaps for the first time, that they are now targets of his weaponized political bull---- rather than amused witnesses to it. And they don’t like it.

Trump responds with more bull----

In one striking example, news media have reported that, before the FBI/Department of Justice announcement, Trump was informed by Attorney General Pam Bondi that his name occurs repeatedly in the unreleased documents.

The significance or context of those occurrences is of course not known; other people who deny wrongdoing are also named in them. But after the existence of a list was denied, Trump responded to questioning about whether his name appears in the documents by claiming that the files were made up by former presidents Barack Obama and Joe Biden and former FBI Director James Comey.

The assertion that the Epstein files are merely hoax documents cooked up by Obama, Biden and Comey is so outrageously false that it can’t be meant even as a serious deception. That makes Trump’s claim a bald-faced lie to many people.

Bald-faced lies count as bull----, Saul and I argue, because they lack the deceptive intent of other lies. They are a kind of unconcealed bull---- that advertises the speaker’s impunity. For Trump, this sort of overt bull---- has been reserved for liberals and news reporters. This time his own supporters are in the line of fire.

Strongman politics

Trump’s base can’t be truly dismayed by the facts about his relationship with Epstein because they should have been upset long before now in terms of his own past confessions and well-known association with Epstein.

Instead, they seem to be irked they’ve been lumped in with their enemies in being recipients of Trump’s bull---- rather than onlookers to it. And if we focus on polarization and strongman politics, we can better understand Trump’s responses to the criticism from his base.

After all, Trump didn’t say these angry supporters have misunderstood the evidence. He said they were “pretty bad people,” likened them to “fake news” and said he didn’t want their support. He didn’t call them mistaken; he called them weaklings.

To some this might sound absurd or childish. To supporters of an authoritarian figure, being called weak is more serious than being accused of being wrong.

Tim Kenyon, Professor, Faculty of Humanities, Brock University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Relations between the US and India are at their lowest ebb in a quarter of a century. Things are so bad that Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi has reportedly refused to accept calls from Trump for more than two months.

In recent days, Trump labelled trade ties with India a “totally one-sided disaster” and a report emerged that he is no longer planning to visit India later this year for a summit of the Quad partners (India, the US, Australia and Japan).

So bad, so quickly

Things were not meant to happen this way. Many in New Delhi were delighted when Trump won the election last year. Modi congratulated his “friend” on X, along with pictures of the two embracing and holding hands.

India’s foreign minister, S. Jaishankar, told journalists that while other countries might be “nervous” about Trump’s return, India was not.

Feeling confident, Modi went to Washington to meet Trump days after his return to office. The encounter did not go well.

On the eve of the meeting, Modi was embarrassed by distressing images of Indian nationals, handcuffed and shackled, being deported from the US on a military aircraft.

In the Oval Office, he promised to buy more US arms, oil and gas, and asked that Trump not impose punitive tariffs on India. Modi failed to get that commitment.

A few weeks later, Trump announced India would be hit with a 27% tariff – far higher than the 10% imposed on China – unless it could negotiate something better.

Crisis in Kashmir

Begrudgingly, New Delhi began to talk trade. US Vice President JD Vance visited India in late April and both sides made positive noises about a deal. But while Vance was in town, India was engulfed in a new crisis.

On April 22, terrorists killed 26 people – mostly Hindu tourists – in Kashmir, long the site of simmering conflict between India and Pakistan. The Modi government pledged to respond with force, as it had done in the past after similar incidents.

On May 7, India bombed what it claimed were militant camps in Pakistan and Pakistan-administered Kashmir. A rapidly escalating, unpredictable conflict followed, as both sides used drones and missiles to attack one another.

Alarmed, governments around the world urged the two nuclear-armed states to end hostilities before matters got out of control. Early in the morning on May 10, they did, and agreed to a ceasefire.

Trump anoints himself peacemaker

Before either the Indian or Pakistani governments had a chance to say anything, Trump stepped in to take credit.

On social media, he announced both sides had agreed a deal. The next day he claimed they would soon sit down with him as mediator and find a solution to the Kashmir conflict.

Islamabad was jubilant at this outcome. New Delhi, meanwhile, was furious.

India’s longstanding view is that the Kashmir dispute must be settled bilaterally, without third-party involvement. The US has accepted this position for more than 20 years. Now it appeared Trump was taking a different view.

This put Modi in a bind. Keen to maintain a mutually beneficial partnership and avoid punitive tariffs, he did not wish to upset Trump.

But he could not acknowledge Trump’s claims without setting aside a fundamental principle of Indian policy. So, Modi called Washington and explained he would not accept mediation over Kashmir.

The final straw

Meanwhile, Pakistan saw an opportunity to win favour in Washington and drive a wedge between the US and India.

Recognising that Trump covets a Nobel Peace Prize, Islamabad nominated him for his supposed role in ending the conflict.

Enthused, Trump called Modi on June 17 and asked him to do the same. Worse still, Trump requested Modi stop in Washington on the way back from the G7 summit in Canada, and meet with Pakistan’s military chief, Asim Munir.

According to a recent report, that was the final straw for Modi. He flatly refused both requests. The two men reportedly haven’t spoken since.

Piqued, Trump responded by punishing India for continuing to buy Russian oil by lifting its tariff rate to 50% and postponing trade talks.

New Delhi’s dilemma

Trump’s actions have ordinary Indians seething and demanding action, but the Modi government does not have good options.

Giving in to coercion would make Modi – dubbed by political opponents “Narender Surrender” – look weak. Yet, no other major power can offer India what it needs in terms of markets, investment, technology, weapons and diplomatic support.

With US-India relations strained, New Delhi has been working hard to stabilise its relationship with China, which has been tense since bloody border clashes between the two in 2020.

Modi went to China for the first time in seven years on August 31 to further that aim, shaking hands with President Xi Jinping. But although Xi emphasised the need for amicable ties – he said the “elephant and dragon should dance together” – there is little trust between India and China at present.

Modi has more faith in Russia. In China, Modi and Russian President Vladimir Putin reportedly spoke for nearly an hour in Putin’s limousine. And Modi will host the Russian leader for more talks in India later this year. However, Russia remains a pariah in Europe, with limited means to help.

Other countries, like Japan, where Modi stopped off on his way to China, could also help India navigate the current crisis. But they do not have the clout to resolve it.

Unless Modi can find a way to win Trump back, India’s next few years could be very difficult.

Ian Hall, Professor of International Relations, Griffith University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

As a professor at the Questrom School of Business who studies different economic systems, I find this reversal striking. My research is supported by the Ravi K. Mehrotra Institute, which is trying to understand how business, markets and society interact. My previous research – finding, for example, that U.S. news coverage of capitalism was far more negative in the 1940s than it is now – suggests capitalism isn’t in retreat but is rather evolving.

In what direction is the Trump administration pushing it?

Types of capitalism

While many people bandy around the term “capitalism,” it actually comes in many different forms. The most basic definition of capitalism is when the means of production – such as factories, farms and offices – are owned by private individuals.

Capitalism is driven by profit. Some of the earliest descriptions of the profit motive that drives the whole system come from Adam Smith. As he wrote in 1776, “It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest.”

Who gets the profits and who controls the means of production determine the specific forms of capitalism. While there are many types, I want to focus on three of the most important.

Free-market capitalism, also called laissez-faire capitalism, is when the government takes a hands-off approach to the economy. The U.S. after the Civil War is a good example of free-market capitalism. During the late 1800s, the federal government imposed few regulations on businesses.

State-guided capitalism is when the government chooses industries or companies to support. Favored sectors are given money and face looser regulations than nonfavored sectors. China today is an example of state-guided capitalism, where the state provides support for industries such as shipbuilding, steel and AI.

Oligarchic capitalism is when a very small part of the population owns key industries and controls the economy. Russia today is an example of this type of capitalism.

Each form of capitalism has its strengths and weaknesses. For example, free-market capitalism provides the most incentives to grow the economy, but the lack of rules often leads businesses to run roughshod over consumers. U.S. historians describe the late 1800s as the era of robber barons.

State-guided capitalism can dramatically boost the output of favored industries. However, if the government invests in the wrong industries, huge amounts of money can be wasted propping up dying firms.

Oligarchic capitalism can rapidly invest in new areas and shift resources, but the profits enrich only a tiny elite.

Recent changes

The U.S. currently appears to be operating under a hybrid model of capitalism, blending free-market principles with elements of state capitalism.

One of the most recent changes is the Trump administration’s decision to take a 10% stake in Intel. Congress passed the multibillion-dollar CHIPS and Science Act in 2022 to bolster U.S. computer chipmakers. Intel is slated to receive US$11.1 billion in grants from the program and other government funding. The current administration has converted that public support into a 10% ownership of the semiconductor maker.

Intel isn’t alone. The government has recently become a shareholder in other companies it views as strategically important – a trend that seems likely to continue and possibly result in the creation of a “sovereign wealth fund.” In July 2025, the Department of Defense agreed to buy $400 million of convertible preferred stock in MP Materials. MP Materials is the only U.S. rare-earth minerals mine with integrated production capacity. The company said the Department of Defense would be positioned to become its largest shareholder.

The government is also requiring a share of revenue from large computer chip manufacturers. Nvidia and AMD will have to remit 15% of revenue from certain chip sales to China as a condition for export licenses.

Why the US change is important

The CHIPS and Science Act has already funneled billions into U.S. semiconductor manufacturing via grants, tax credits and R&D support. MP Materials and Intel could serve as pilot models for further strategic intervention. However, the U.S. government spends trillions each year, and the amounts invested in American industries and companies represent only a small percentage of total spending.

While the CHIPS and Science Act was passed in 2022 under the Biden administration, the implementation relied on traditional tools of industrial policy such as grants, tax credits and milestone-based funding. In contrast, the Trump administration has converted these grants into equity arrangements, with officials stating the government should get a return on its investment.

This shift from an incentive-based approach to a direct ownership model represents one of the most fascinating experiments in modern American capitalism. The real question is what happens if – or when – this strategy expands. The government could become more involved in energy, biotech and AI, or any place where markets show signs of lagging or supply chains are geopolitically fragile.

The U.S. isn’t rejecting capitalism but recalibrating its boundaries. The next few years will show exactly how Washington’s interventions will reshape U.S. capitalism.

H. Sami Karaca, Professor of Business Analytics, Questrom School of Business, Boston University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Newsom is playing Trump’s game on social media to show that two can tango. Ridicule is a powerful political knife, and Newsom knows how to wield it with abandon.

Trump finally snapped late last week.

“The governor is incompetent,” he said. “I know Gavin very well. He’s an incompetent guy with a good line of bullshit — and he doesn’t get the job done.”

Democrats love it.

Trump’s election last November was an “apocalypse now” moment for the Democrats. It was one thing for Trump to win the presidency. It was catastrophic for the Republicans to retain control of the House of Representatives – a failure that defied expectations going into election day. This meant the Democrats could not block Trump’s legislative agenda, including his One Big Beautiful Bill of trillions of dollars in tax cuts and hits to Medicaid enacted into law. It meant Democrats could not hold hearings on what Trump’s Cabinet was doing, or issue subpoenas to get his appointees under oath with their documents.

Democrats are furious that Trump is getting his way on everything he wants – and that they are seemingly powerless to stop it. Their two leaders – Chuck Schumer in the Senate and Hakeem Jeffroes in the House, both from New York – seem unable to land a blow on the president.

Democrats are in despair. Trump can flood the zone with his agenda with impunity. And he’s winning. There are no checks on Trump from Congress or the courts.Democrats want leaders who will fight like hell. The party is at its lowest ebb since 1990.

Enter Gavin Newsom

Weeks after the election, Newsom himself was hesitant to take on Trump. He started the year determined to work with Trump. With the Los Angeles fires raging in January, Newsom greeted Trump on the airport tarmac and shook hands, determined to get Trump’s help. To talk to Democratic voters – particularly younger men who defected and voted for Trump – Newsom went on bro media, including Steve Bannon, to say he understood the concerns that brought Trump to victory. He sided with Trump on trans athletes in women’s sports.

Newsom was being too slick. Cosying up to Trump’s MAGA crowd on culture-war issues is not the way out of losing at the ballot box.

Then suddenly, Trump changed the game. He used the military to fight crime and put down protests. And he is trying to rig the 2026 midterm elections to make sure Republicans keep control of Congress.

In June, Trump sent ICE agents into Los Angeles to detain and deport undocumented immigrants. And then the National Guard into the streets of LA to end the protests that were raging.

Newsom broke with Trump. In a speech in June that was heard across the nation, Newsom defined the battleground:

Trump and his loyalists, they thrive on division because it allows them to take more power and exert more control.
Democracy is under assault right before our eyes. The moment we’ve feared has arrived.
We do not want our streets militarised by our own armed forces. Not in LA. Not in California. Not anywhere.

Newsom shot up in the polls. Newsom’s playbook for LA has been taken up by Mayor Muriel Bowser of Washington DC, where Trump ordered hundreds of armed troops from several states onto the streets, by Governor Wes Moore of Maryland in response to Trump’s signal he is sending troops into Baltimore, and Governor JB Pritzker of Illinois, who is now bracing for Trump’s ordering troops into Chicago.

But the main game remains control of Congress. Trump’s power today is unchecked. There is no Republican opposition to Trump on his legislation, his appointees, his wielding of executive power to close agencies and prosecute his enemies, his trade wars that are raising prices across the country, his failure to end the wars in Ukraine and Gaza.

Going into the 2026 midterm elections, Republicans will have a three-seat majority in the House. It is too close for Trump’s comfort. He wants firmer control. Breaking with norms that have gone back for over 200 years – that congressional electorates are recast every ten years after each national census – Trump is insisting states with Republican governors and Republican legislatures redraw their congressional maps now – mid-decade – to increase the number of seats Republicans can win so they can hold on to their majority.

Greg Abbott, the governor of Texas, could not wait to act. He called a special session of the legislature to redraw the maps. Democratic members of the state house fled Texas to prevent a quorum to pass the bill. That spectacle set Democrats alight across the country. It was a cut-through political moment. Here in real time was a naked attempt to expand the power of Republicans in Washington and to let Trump act unimpeded for the balance of his second term.Abbott laid bare the ugliest form of hyper-partisanship that has been seen so far.

Democrats concluded they had to get dirty – or else remain irrelevant for as long as Trump is president.

Texas has passed legislation redrawing the state’s map to help ensure a five-seat Republican gain in the 2026 midterms. Trump is pressuring other states – Indiana, Florida, Missouri, Ohio, Utah – to do the same. Several of them will act.

Democratic states – Illinois, New York and Maryland – are poised to do the same.

Newsom seized the moment. Democrats have the votes in the legislature to rewrite their congressional map to create five more seats for Democrats – offsetting Texas. And that is what they did. Their new map projects a five-seat Democrat gain for their congressional delegation.

Even former president Barack Obama, who has always had little patience for the ugly side of politics, said it was time to get dirty:

The governor’s gamble

But there is a catch. Throughout its history, California has been moving toward post-partisan politics – because it is the right thing to do.

The California primaries (preselections) to choose the final candidates for federal and state offices – governor, senator, member of Congress – are nonpartisan. The top two vote-getters in the primaries for each office are in the final election. This means it is now common for two Democrats or two Republicans to run against each other for high office.

California outlawed the political gerrymander in 2008. Under existing law, the legislature can only redraw the state’s map if the state’s voters approve of the legislature acting to do so. This means Californians must approve it via a special election vote in November.

The latest polls show mixed support. As of now, the “yes” vote is below 50%. Many voters like the nonpartisan system California has in place.

If Newsom’s plan wins in California, and a re-energised Democratic party rises to take back the House of Representatives in the November 2026 midterm elections, Newsom will be the party’s hero and a front runner for the presidential nomination in 2028.

A Democratic House of Representatives will end Trump’s presidency in his second term just like it did in the first: stopping his legislation and investigating everything he and his officials do.

A Democratic House will also likely impeach Trump a third time for “high crimes and misdemeanors” proscribed by the Constitution.

If Newsom fails this November, and more Republican states pile on to tilt the party’s position in the House, and Trump remains not only unfettered but strengthened further in Congress, the road back to power by the Democrats will get longer.

Newsom knows all this. He’s moving now. We’ll see if he has more than just the flair to craft social media posts that drive Trump nuts.

Bruce Wolpe, Non-resident Senior Fellow, United States Study Centre, University of Sydney

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

An executive order is issued by the president and doesn’t need to be passed by Congress. They are, however, expected to relate to existing law. Trump so far has signed 196. His latest directive, which aims to restore “respect, pride and sanctity” to the US flag, instructs the Department of Justice to investigate instances of burning the nation’s insignia under particular circumstances.

While the practice of flag burning as protest has a long history in the US, dating back to the US civil war, it is not a regular occurrence, and has been constitutionally permitted for decades.

The issue is already creating divisions among Republicans. There are three broad categories of GOP reaction. First, the Maga faithful are unlikely to complain. Unconditional support for their leader is a key trait of this group. And the executive order includes language with guaranteed appeal to those for whom terms such as “American patriots” and “foreign nationals” are predictable triggers. The president has long excelled at rallying his supporters on flag-related matters.

Beyond red-meat-for-the-base appeal, both the executive order and GOP support for it get a little more complex. Traditional conservatives, including Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell, are a group that may have strongly negative feelings about flag burning, but their adherence to the first amendment and associated freedom of expression would generally override this.

Those who hold constitutional principles in high regard are increasingly concerned about a president demonstrating his desire for expansive power. And, the US Supreme Court has clearly ruled on more than one occasion that the act, however distasteful, is constitutionally permitted.

Antonin Scalia, the late Supreme Court justice and noted constitutional textualist, famously stated that “if it were up to me, I would put in jail every sandal-wearing, scruffy-bearded weirdo who burns the American flag”. But, he added: “I am not king.” Alongside the more centrist Anthony Kennedy, these justices upheld the right to burn the US flag in the 1989 landmark case of Texas v Johnson, despite Scalia’s personal distaste for the act. In his writings, Scalia differentiated between the form of expression that was flag burning, and an act of insurrection, which, he noted, was “something quite different”. The first amendment, as he understood it, allowed for symbolic political protests, regardless of how offensive such expressions might be to patriotic sensibilities.

Already, analysts have highlighted how the president’s efforts to sidestep the constitution are laden with problems. Executive orders cannot override a Supreme Court ruling. Even Donald Trump should know that.

Getting around current law

What the executive order does attempt to do is to get around the law that allows flag burning. To do so, it focuses on associated crime such as property destruction, open burning violations and disorderly conduct. The attorney general, Pam Bondi, was instructed to pursue cases against those who “incite violence or otherwise violate our laws while desecrating this symbol of our country”. So, when someone is (legally) burning a flag, they may be acting illegally at the same time by, for example, committing a hate crime. And this could trigger prosecution.

Furthermore, the executive order nods to a key flashpoint of the current climate by leveraging immigration law, and potentially facilitating the deportation of non-citizens who engage in flag-burning. Beyond the smoke-filled headlines, what this ruling does is circumvent the core ruling of Texas v Johnson by focusing on the circumstances surrounding any flag burning, rather than the act itself. A further aspect will involve the extent to which the courts could expand existing first amendment exceptions. This can only make for nervous constitutional conservatives.

The third group who mostly reside on the Trumpian side of the partisan fence are libertarians such as Republican senator Rand Paul. In a similar vein to their conservative counterparts, their worldview would sit uncomfortably with the president’s foray into testing constitutional principles, and not standing up for more wide-ranging free speech.

Flags and freedom

Libertarians tend to feel strongly about freedom of expression. And when their president picks a fight with the first amendment for no apparent reason beyond a mention he made of it on the campaign trail, he may end up aggravating more supporters than he pleases.

Writing on Reason.com, libertarian journalist Robby Soave argued that Trump is the “last person who should confuse protected speech with incitement to violence”. He added: “Any administration that purports to care about freedom of speech should easily reach the conclusion that criminalizing provocative yet nonviolent acts of political expression is a violation of this principle.”

For a president who deliberately and controversially appointed “Scalia-like” judges during his first term, his latest executive order seems at odds with this vision. Such inconsistency, for what may involve more Justice Department smoke than actual fire, may not serve the president well if many conservatives remain uncomfortable with the move.

To misquote a famous phrase attributed to Voltaire, the US Supreme Court has repeatedly ruled that whatever a majority of the justices think of those who actually want to burn the US flag, they will all but defend to the death your right to burn it.

The waters are further muddied now that a self-described combat veteran has set fire to the flag in response to the executive order. It is unlikely he is a “sandal-wearing weirdo”. Hence, the president’s patriotic script may end up somewhat singed around the edges.

Clodagh Harrington, Lecturer in American Politics, University College Cork

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

A number of journalists, pointing to recent public opinion polls, have claimed that the scandal has hurt Trump. Others have argued that the public has largely moved on and the Epstein controversy no longer presents a political liability for Trump.

But both of these conclusions are based on limited polling about the Epstein controversy and thus may be premature.

Our recent University of Massachusetts Amherst national poll includes particularly detailed questions about the Epstein controversy and attitudes toward Trump, and thus provides fresh insights on how the controversy has affected public support for Trump.

We find that Trump’s handling of the Epstein controversy has done significant damage to his standing, particularly among his core supporters.

Trump ‘fumbling the matter’

Americans are paying close attention to the prolonged Epstein controversy. Our polling finds that 3 in 4 respondents have heard, read or seen “a lot” or “some” about Epstein.

Moreover, most believe that Trump is fumbling the matter.

Seven in 10 Americans believe that Trump is handling the matter “not well.” This includes pluralities of Trump’s most loyal supporters, 43% of Republicans, 43% of conservatives, and 47% of those who voted for him in 2024.

When we drill down on the 47% of 2024 Trump voters who disapprove of Trump’s handling of the Epstein controversy, we find significant cracks in the MAGA facade. Among members of this group, 28% now disapprove of Trump as president.

When we take demographics, ideology, partisanship and assessments of the economy into account, disapproval of Trump’s handling of the release of the Epstein files is still associated with an increase in disapproval of Trump.

Voter regret

Even more significantly, we find that among 2024 Trump voters, negative views of Trump’s handling of the Epstein files are associated with an increased desire to make a different choice if the 2024 election could be rerun.

More specifically, among Trump voters who believe that the president has mishandled the release of the Epstein files, more than one quarter – 26% – indicate that they would not vote for Trump if they had the opportunity to vote again in the 2024 election.

While there are no election do-overs, it is clear that the Epstein scandal has hurt Trump among his base of voters.

Much can happen between now and the midterm elections in November 2026, of course.

But if Trump fails to satisfy his political base, perceptions among Trump voters that he has mishandled the controversy could reduce enthusiasm and participation in the elections. Even if the share of Republicans alienated by the Epstein controversy is relatively small, this could hurt Republicans in close contests.

With over a year to go, the facts on the ground will likely change. But as of today, the controversy over the release of the Epstein files remains relevant. Whether the president responds in a manner that satisfies his voters is a question that could have important political consequences.

Tatishe Nteta, Provost Professor of Political Science and Director of the UMass Amherst Poll, UMass Amherst; Adam Eichen, Ph.D. Candidate in Political Science, UMass Amherst; Alexander Theodoridis, Associate Professor of Political Science, UMass Amherst; Jesse Rhodes, Associate Professor of Political Science, UMass Amherst, and Raymond La Raja, Professor of Political Science, UMass Amherst

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

It usually characterizes an action, an individual or a society that is suppressing freedom, particularly the freedom of expression. It can also describe something perverted by tyrannical power.

It’s a term used primarily to describe the present, but whose implications inevitably connect to both the future and the past.

In his second term, President Donald Trump has revealed his ambitions to rewrite America’s official history to, in the words of the Organization of American Historians, “reflect a glorified narrative … while suppressing the voices of historically excluded groups.”

This ambition was manifested in efforts by the Department of Education to eradicate a “DEI agenda” from school curricula. It also included a high-profile assault on what detractors saw as “woke” universities, which culminated in Columbia University’s agreement to submit to a review of the faculty and curriculum of its Middle Eastern Studies department, with the aim of eradicating alleged pro-Palestinian bias.

Now, the administration has shifted its sights from formal educational institutions to one of the key sites of public history-making: the Smithsonian, a collection of 21 museums, the National Zoo and associated research centers, principally centered on the National Mall in Washington, D.C.

On Aug. 12, 2025, the Smithsonian’s director, Lonnie Bunch III, received a letter from the White House announcing its intent to carry out a systematic review of the institution’s holdings and exhibitions in the advance of the nation’s 250th anniversary in 2026.

The review’s stated aim is to ensure that museum content adequately reflects “Americanism” through a commitment to “celebrate American exceptionalism, [and] remove divisive or partisan narratives.”

On Aug. 19, 2025, Trump escalated his attack on the Smithsonian. “The Smithsonian is OUT OF CONTROL, where everything discussed is how horrible our Country is, how bad Slavery was…” he wrote in a Truth Social post. “Nothing about Success, nothing about Brightness, nothing about the Future. We are not going to allow this to happen.”

Such ambitions may sound benign, but they are deeply Orwellian. Here’s how.

Winners write the history

Author George Orwell believed in objective, historical truth. Writing in 1946, he attributed his youthful desire to become an author in part to a “historical impulse,” or “the desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity.”

But while Orwell believed in the existence of an objective truth about history, he did not necessarily believe that truth would prevail.

Truth, Orwell recognized, was best served by free speech and dialogue. Yet absolute power, Orwell appreciated, allowed those who possessed it to silence or censor opposing narratives, quashing the possibility of productive dialogue about history that could ultimately allow truth to come out.

As Orwell wrote in “1984,” his final, dystopian novel, “Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.”

Historian Malgorzata Rymsza-Pawlowska has written about America’s bicentennial celebrations that took place in 1976. Then, she says, “Americans across the nation helped contribute to a pluralistic and inclusive commemoration … using it as a moment to question who had been left out of the legacies of the American Revolution, to tell more inclusive stories about the history of the United States.”

This was an example of the kind of productive dialogue encouraged in a free society. “By contrast,” writes Rymsza-Pawlowska, “the 250th is shaping up to be a top-down affair that advances a relatively narrow and celebratory idea of Americanism.” The newly announced Smithsonian review aims to purge counternarratives that challenge that celebratory idea.

The Ministry of Truth

The desire to eradicate counternarratives drives Winston Smith’s job at the ironically named Ministry of Truth in “1984.”

The novel is set in Oceania, a geographical entity covering North America and the British Isles and which governs much of the Global South.

Oceania is an absolute tyranny governed by Big Brother, the leader of a political party whose only goal is the perpetuation of its own power. In this society, truth is what Big Brother and the party say it is.

The regime imposes near total censorship so that not only dissident speech but subversive private reflection, or “thought crime,” is viciously prosecuted. In this way, it controls the present.

But it also controls the past. As the party’s protean policy evolves, Smith and his colleagues are tasked with systematically destroying any historical records that conflict with the current version of history. Smith literally disposes of artifacts of inexpedient history by throwing them down “memory holes,” where they are “wiped … out of existence and out of memory.”

At a key point in the novel, Smith recalls briefly holding on to a newspaper clipping that proved that an enemy of the regime had not actually committed the crime he had been accused of. Smith recognizes the power over the regime that this clipping gives him, but he simultaneously fears that power will make him a target. In the end, fear of retaliation leads him to drop the slip of newsprint down a memory hole.

The contemporary U.S. is a far cry from Orwell’s Oceania. Yet the Trump administration is doing its best to exert control over the present and the past.

Down the memory hole

Even before the Trump administration announced its review of the Smithsonian, officials in departments across government had taken unprecedented steps to rewrite the nation’s official history, attempting to purge parts of the historical narrative down Orwellian memory holes.

Comically, those efforts included the temporary removal from government websites of information about the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the atomic bomb over Hiroshima. The plane was unwittingly caught up in a mass purge of references to “gay” and LGBTQ+ content on government websites.

Other erasures have included the deletion of content on government sites related to the life ofHarriet Tubman, the Maryland woman who escaped slavery and then played a pioneering role as a conductor of the Underground Railroad, helping enslaved people escape to freedom.

Public outcry led to the restoration of most of the deleted content.

Over at the Smithsonian, which earlier in the year had been criticized by Trump for its “divisive, race-centered ideology,” staff removed a temporary placard with references to President Trump’s two impeachment trials from a display case on impeachment that formed part of the National Museum of American History exhibition on the American presidency. The references to Trump’s two impeachments were modified, with some details removed, in a newly installed placard in the updated display.

Responding to questions, the Smithsonian stated that the placard’s removal was not in response to political pressure: “The placard, which was meant to be a temporary addition to a 25-year-old exhibition, did not meet the museum’s standards in appearance, location, timeline, and overall presentation.”

Repressing thought

Orwell’s “1984” ends with an appendix on the history of “Newspeak,” Oceania’s official language, which, while it had not yet superseded “Oldspeak” or standard English, was rapidly gaining ground as both a written and spoken dialect.

According to the appendix, “The purpose of Newspeak was not only to provide a medium of expression for the worldview and mental habits proper to the devotees of [the Party], but to make all other modes of thought impossible.”

Orwell, as so often in his writing, makes the abstract theory concrete: “The word free still existed in Newspeak, but it could only be used in such statements as ‘This dog is free from lice’ or ‘This field is free from weeds.’ … political and intellectual freedom no longer existed even as concepts.”

The goal of this language streamlining was total control over past, present and future.

If it is illegal to even speak of systemic racism, for example, let alone discuss its causes and possible remedies, it constrains the potential for, even prohibits, social change.

It has become a cliché that those who do not understand history are bound to repeat it.

As George Orwell appreciated, the correlate is that social and historical progress require an awareness of, and receptivity to, both historical fact and competing historical narratives.

This story is an updated version of an article originally published on June 9, 2025.

The Smithsonian is a member of The Conversation U.S.

Laura Beers, Professor of History, American University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

But one group has refused to back down is the hosts of America’s late night comedy shows.

Jon Stewart and the rest of The Daily Show team, for example, have been scathing in their coverage of the Epstein case. John Oliver continues to amass colorful analogies for describing the president and his actions. After the “Late Show” was canceled, ostensibly due to financial reasons, host Stephen Colbert was defiant: “They made one mistake – they left me alive!”

We may think of being loud, persistent, and edgy as the modern comedians’ job. However, unrelenting, critical humor has a long history in folklore.

I’m a scholar who examines the intersections between culture and politics and I teach a class on “Humor and Power.” A timeless folktale, known as “The Bird Indifferent to Pain,” can help us understand why comedy fans enjoy the annoying persistence of the jester, and explain why this trope has endured across cultures for centuries.

The invincible rooster

“The Bird Indifferent to Pain” belongs to a genre known as “formula tales.” Such tales consist of repeated patterns or chains of events, often with rhymes weaving through them. “The Gingerbread Man” captures this style perfectly with its infectious, teasing rhyme – “Run, run, run as fast as you can…”

“The Bird Indifferent to Pain” also stars a persistent and irritating creature. In most versions, a bird – often a rooster – angers a master or king for singing too loudly or saying the wrong things. The king comes up with elaborate punishments, but the bird always seems indifferent to them, responding to each move with an increasingly defiant and sometimes vulgar rhyme. At the end, the king cooks and eats the rooster, but the bird flies unharmed out of his body, rhyming and singing ever more.

Because folklore is shared casually across cultures and languages, it’s hard to tell when and where this tale first originated. However, folklorists have identified versions all over the world, from Tajikistan in Central Asia to India and Sri Lanka in South Asia, as well as Sudan in northeast Africa.

Armenia’s famous poet Hovhannes Tumanyan collected one version of this tale, which he titled “Anhaght Aklore” or “The Invincible Rooster.” In this version, a rooster finds a gold coin, and boasts about it from the rooftop: “Cock-a-doodle-doo, I’ve found gold!” When the king’s servants take the gold, the rooster continues crowing defiantly: “Cock-a-doodle-doo … the king lives on my account!” Frustrated, the king orders his servants to return the money. But the rooster still won’t shut up: “The king got scared of me!”

Finally, the king orders him slaughtered for dinner. “The king has invited me to his palace!” the rooster boasts. While he’s cooked, he claims the king is treating him to “a hot bath.” Served as the main course, he crows, “I’m dining with the king!”

The tale reaches its climax when the rooster, now in the king’s belly, complains about the darkness. The king, driven to fury by the persistent voice, orders his servants to cut open his own stomach. The rooster escapes and flies to the rooftops, crowing triumphantly once more: “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

Tumanyan doesn’t tell us what happens to the king after that.

My great-grandmother told us a Turkish version of this tale, featuring a rooster defying his “bey,” or master, in the 1980s. Her rooster crowed in rhyming couplets and used some naughty words to describe the master’s digestive system. Plus, in her version, the master’s behind – and not his stomach – tore open during the bird’s escape. We were obsessed with this story and begged her to tell it over and over.

The power of persistent irritation

What makes this tale, and its many variations, so compelling across languages and centuries? Why do so many cultures enjoy the rooster’s humorous defiance and literal indifference to punishment?

In our case, as children, we were drawn in by the rhythm of repetition and rhyme. The rooster’s colorful language held a delightful sense of transgression. Children also often identify with animals because of a shared vulnerability to adults’ power. Therefore, it is significant that the bird, the weaker of the two parties, survives the ordeal, whereas the master’s fate is uncertain. But the rooster doesn’t merely survive – he thrives and keeps on squawking. This is a story of hope.

In fact, when I told Tumanyan’s version to my 6-year-old son, he said he loved the rooster’s optimism.

Modern American popular culture contains many jocular characters that resemble this folkloric bird, who is delightfully impervious to pain, from cartoon characters such as the Road Runner – an actual bird – to the foulmouthed, self-regenerating antihero Deadpool.

Today’s political comedians, I argue, are using the rooster’s tactics as well.

Release or resistance?

Debates about political humor often circle back to its purpose. Scholars debate whether anti-authoritarian humor is just a coping mechanism, or whether can it spark change.

Psychologist Sigmund Freud believed humor’s main function was “release”: jokes offered a way to reveal our unacceptable urges in a socially acceptable way. A mean joke, for example, allowed its teller to express aggression without risking serious repercussions.

Philosophers Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer argued that humor in corporate capitalist media was a mere safety valve, siphoning off protest and releasing righteous outrage as laughter.

Anthropologist James Scott, however, gives jokesters more political credit. In his 1992 book “Domination and the Arts of Resistance,” Scott agreed that authorities allow some dissident humor as a safety valve. But he also identified a powerful “imaginative function” in humorous resistance. Humor, he claimed, can help people envision alternatives to the status quo.

Scott pointed out that release and resistance need not be mutually exclusive. Instead of reducing the chance of actual rebellion, comedy could serve as practice for it.

Authorities do perceive some danger in comedians’ output. In countries with fewer free speech protections, comedians may face more serious repercussions than a stern tweet.

In the case of Colbert, President Donald Trump’s gleeful response to the show’s cancellation, and his suggestion that others will be “next up,” shows just how seriously some political figures take comedic critique. At the very least, they are irritated.

And the story of the “Bird Indifferent to Pain” reminds us that sometimes the best a jokester can do is to keep irritating the bowels of the system, singing all the way.

Perin Gürel, Associate professor of American Studies, University of Notre Dame

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

I’m a sociologist who’s spent decades studying race and inequality, and when I read the documents and statements coming out of the Trump White House, these assumptions jump out at me again and again – usually implicitly, but always there.

The problem is that the evidence doesn’t back these assumptions up.

For one thing, if discrimination against white Americans were widespread, you might expect large numbers to report being treated unfairly. But polling data shows otherwise. A 2025 Pew survey found that 70% of white Americans think Black people face “some” or “a lot” of discrimination in general, and roughly two-thirds say the same of Asian and Hispanic people. Meanwhile, only 45% of white Americans believe that white people in general experience that degree of discrimination.

In other words, white Americans believe that people of color, as a group, face more discrimination than white people do. People of color agree – and so do Americans overall.

In a second national study, using data collected in 2023, Americans were asked if they had personally experienced discrimination within the past year. Thirty-eight percent of white people said they had, compared to 54% of Black Americans, 50% of Latinos and 42% of Asian Americans. In other words, white Americans are much less likely to say that they’ve been discriminated against than people of color.

The ‘hard’ numbers show persistent privilege

These statistics are sometimes called “soft” data because they reflect people’s perceptions rather than verified incidents. To broaden the picture, it’s worth looking at “hard” data on measures like income, education and employment outcomes. These indicators also suggest that white Americans as a group are advantaged relative to people of color.

For example, federal agencies have documented racial disparities in income for decades, with white Americans, as a group, generally outearning Black and Latino Americans. This is true even when you control for education. When the Census Bureau looked at median annual earnings for Americans between 25 and 64 with at least a bachelor’s degree, it found that Black Americans received only 81% of what comparably educated white Americans earned, while Latinos earned only 80%. Asian Americans, on the other hand, earned 119% of what white people earned.

These gaps persist even when you hold college major constant. In the highest-paying major, electrical engineering, Black Americans earned only 71% of what white people did, while Latinos earned just 73%. Asian Americans, in contrast, earned 104% of what white people earned. In the lowest-paid major, family and consumer sciences, African Americans earned 97% of what white people did, and Latinos earned 94%. Asian Americans earned 117% of what white people earned. The same general pattern of white income advantage existed in all majors with two exceptions: Black people earned more in elementary education and nursing.

Remember, this is comparing individuals with a bachelor’s degree or higher to people with the same college major. Again, white Americans are still advantaged in most career paths over Black Americans and Latinos.

Disparities persist in the job market

Unemployment data show similar patterns. The July 2025 figures for workers at all education levels show that Black people were 1.9 times more likely to be unemployed than white Americans. Latinos were 1.4 times more likely to be unemployed, and Asian Americans, 1.1 times.

This same white advantage still occurs when looking only at workers who have earned a bachelor’s degree or more. Black Americans who have earned bachelor’s degrees or higher were 1.3 times more likely to be unemployed than similarly educated white Americans as of 2021, the last year for which data is available. Latinos with college degrees were 1.4 times more likely to be unemployed than similar white Americans. The white advantage was even higher for those with only a high school degree or less. Unfortunately, data for Asian Americans weren’t available.

In another study, researchers sent 80,000 fake resumes in response to 10,000 job listings posted by 97 of the largest employers in the country. The credentials on the resumes were essentially the same, but the names signaled race: Some had Black-sounding names, like Lakisha or Leroy, while others had more “white-sounding” names like Todd or Allison. This method is known as an “audit study.”

This research, which was conducted between 2019 and 2021, found that employers were 9.5% more likely to contact the Todds and Allisons than the Lakishas and Leroys within 30 days of receiving a resume. Of the 28 audit studies that have been conducted since 1989, each one showed that applicants with Black- or Latino-sounding names were less likely to be contacted that those with white-sounding or racially neutral names.

Finally, a 2025 study analyzed 600,000 letters of recommendation for college-bound students who used the Common App form during the 2018-19 and 2019-20 academic years. Only students who applied to at least one selective college were included. The study found that letters for Black and Latino students were shorter and said less about their intellectual promise.

Similarly, letters in support of first-generation students – that is, whose parents hadn’t graduated from a four-year college, and who are disproportionately likely to be Black and Latino – had fewer sentences dedicated to their scientific, athletic and artistic abilities, or their overall academic potential.

These and other studies don’t provide evidence of massive anti-white discrimination. Although scattered cases of white people being discriminated against undoubtedly exist, the data suggest that white people are still advantaged relative to non-Asian people of color. White Americans may be less advantaged than they were, but they’re still advantaged.

While it’s true that many working-class white Americans are having a tough time in the current economy, it’s not because of their race. It’s because of their class. It’s because of automation and overseas outsourcing taking away good jobs. It’s because of high health care costs and cuts in the safety nets.

In other words, while many working-class white people are struggling now, there’s little evidence race is the problem.

Fred L. Pincus, Emeritus Professor of Sociology, University of Maryland, Baltimore County

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

As summits go, the meeting broke with many conventions of diplomacy: It was last-minute, it appeared to ignore longstanding protocol and accounts of what happened were conflicting in the days after the early termination of the event.

The Conversation U.S.’s politics editor Naomi Schalit interviewed Donald Heflin, a veteran diplomat now teaching at Tufts University’s Fletcher School, to help untangle what happened and what could happen next.

It was a hastily planned summit. Trump said they’d accomplish things that they didn’t seem to accomplish. Where do things stand now?

It didn’t surprise me or any experienced diplomat that there wasn’t a concrete result from the summit.

First, the two parties, Russia and Ukraine, weren’t asking to come to the peace table. Neither one of them is ready yet, apparently. Second, the process was flawed. It wasn’t prepared well enough in advance, at the secretary of state and foreign minister level. It wasn’t prepared at the staff level.

What was a bit of a surprise was the last couple days before the summit, the White House started sending out what I thought were kind of realistic signals. They said, “Hopefully we’ll get a ceasefire and then a second set of talks a few weeks in the future, and that’ll be the real set of talks.”

Now, that’s kind of reasonable. That could have happened. That was not a terrible plan. The problem was it didn’t happen. And we don’t know exactly why it didn’t happen.

Reading between the lines, there were a couple problems. The first is the Russians, again, just weren’t ready to do this, and they said, “No ceasefire. We want to go straight to permanent peace talks.”

Ukraine doesn’t want that, and neither do its European allies. Why?

When you do a ceasefire, what normally happens is you leave the warring parties in possession of whatever land their military holds right now. That’s just part of the deal. You don’t go into a 60- or 90-day ceasefire and say everybody’s got to pull back to where they were four years ago.

But if you go to a permanent peace plan, which Putin wants, you’ve got to decide that people are going to pull back, right? So that’s problem number one.

Problem number two is it’s clear that Putin is insisting on keeping some of the territory that his troops seized in 2014 and 2022. That’s just a non-starter for the Ukrainians.

Is Putin doing that because that really is his bottom line demand, or did he want to blow up these peace talks, and that was a good way to blow them up? It could be either or both.

Russia has made it clear that it wants to keep parts of Ukraine, based on history and ethnic makeup.

The problem is, the world community has made it clear for decades and decades and decades, you don’t get what you want by invading the country next door.

Remember in Gulf War I, when Saddam Hussein invaded and swallowed Kuwait and made it the 19th province of Iraq? The U.S. and Europe went in there and kicked him out. Then there are also examples where the U.S. and Europe have told countries, “Don’t do this. You do this, it’s going to be bad for you.”

So if Russia learns that it can invade Ukraine and seize territory and be allowed to keep it, what’s to keep them from doing it to some other country? What’s to keep some other country from doing it?

You mean the whole world is watching.

Yes. And the other thing the world is watching is the U.S. gave security guarantees to Ukraine in 1994 when they gave up the nuclear weapons they held, as did Europe. The U.S. has, both diplomatically and in terms of arms, supported Ukraine during this war. If the U.S. lets them down, what kind of message does that send about how reliable a partner the U.S. is?

The U.S. has this whole other thing going on the other side of the world where the country is confronting China on various levels. What if the U.S. sends a signal to the Taiwanese, “Hey, you better make the best deal you can with China, because we’re not going to back your play.”

At least six European leaders are coming to Washington along with Zelenskyy. What does that tell you?

They’re presenting a united front to Trump and Secretary of State Marco Rubio to say, “Look, we can’t have this. Europe’s composed of a bunch of countries. If we get in the situation where one country invades the other and gets to keep the land they took, we can’t have it.”

President Trump had talked to all of them before the summit, and they probably came away with a strong impression that the U.S. was going for a ceasefire. And then, that didn’t happen.

Instead, Trump took Putin’s position of going straight to peace talks, no ceasefire.

I don’t think they liked it. I think they’re coming in to say to him, “No, we have to go to ceasefire first. Then talks and, PS, taking territory and keeping it is terrible precedent. What’s to keep Russia from just storming into the three Baltic states – Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania – next? The maps of Europe that were drawn 100 years ago have held. If we’re going to let Russia erase a bunch of the borders on the map and incorporate parts, it could really be chaotic.”

Where do you see things going?

Until and unless you hear there’s a ceasefire, nothing’s really happened and the parties are continuing to fight and kill.

What I would look for after the Monday meetings is, does Trump stick to his guns post-Alaska and say, “No, we’re gonna have a big, comprehensive peace agreement, and land for peace is on the table.”

Or does he kind of swing back towards the European point of view and say, “I really think the first thing we got to have is a ceasefire”?

Even critics of Trump need to acknowledge that he’s never been a warmonger. He doesn’t like war. He thinks it’s too chaotic. He can’t control it. No telling what will happen at the other end of war. I think he sincerely wants for the shooting and the killing to stop above all else.

The way you do that is a ceasefire. You have two parties say, “Look, we still hate each other. We still have this really important issue of who controls these territories, but we both agree it’s in our best interest to stop the fighting for 60, 90 days while we work on this.”

If you don’t hear that coming out of the White House into the Monday meetings, this isn’t going anywhere.

There are thousands of Ukrainian children who have been taken by Russia – essentially kidnapped. Does that enter into any of these negotiations?

It should. It was a terror tactic.

This could be a place where you can make progress. If Putin said, well, “We still don’t want to give you any land, but, yeah, these kids here, you can have them back,” it’s the kind of thing you throw on the table to show that you’re not a bad guy and you are kind of serious about these talks.

Whether they’ll do that or not, I don’t know. It’s really a tragic story.

Donald Heflin, Executive Director of the Edward R. Murrow Center and Senior Fellow of Diplomatic Practice, The Fletcher School, Tufts University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The sentiment is also portrayed in popular culture such as the hit TV show “Yellowstone.”

“It’s the one constant in life. You build something worth having, someone’s gonna try to take it,” says patriarch John Dutton. He was facing repeated threats by developers from “the city” to annex his land for a luxury hotel and resort development.

As a policy scholar, I’ve talked to and interviewed many dozens of people in rural areas in Colorado. I’ve also read hundreds of newspaper articles and watched hundreds of hours of legislative testimony that capture the sentiment of rural people being left behind, left out and snubbed by their urban counterparts.

Recently, I studied the divide between rural and urban Coloradans by looking at their responses to four statewide policies. A designated day to forgo eating meat, two political appointees and the ongoing wolf reintroduction.

These policies, while specific to Colorado, are symptoms of something larger. Namely, an ever-urbanizing, globalized world that rural, agricultural citizens feel is leaving them behind.

‘MeatOut’ or misstep?

My expertise doesn’t just come from my research – I’ve lived it.

I grew up in a rural community in Elbert County, Colorado, about an hour- and-a-half southeast of Denver.

In early 2021, Gov. Jared Polis declared via proclamation that March 20 would be a “MeatOut Day.” For health and environmental reasons, Colorado residents were encouraged to forgo meat for a single day.

Supported by the Farm Animal Rights Movement, MeatOuts have been promoted across the U.S. since the 1980s. Typically, gubernatorial proclamations, of which hundreds are passed each year and are completely ceremonial and devoid of any long-term formal policy implications, go largely unnoticed. And in Denver, Colorado’s metropolitan center, this one did too.

Not so in rural Colorado.

My neighbors in Elbert County promptly responded with outrage, flying banners and flags declaring their support for agriculture and a carnivorous diet.

One rancher from Nathrop painted a stack of hay bales to say, “Eat Beef Everyday.”

Communities all over the state, and even in neighboring states, responded with “MeatIns,” where they gathered to eat meat and celebrate agriculture and the rural way of life. They also coupled these events with fundraisers, for various causes, for which hundreds of thousands of dollars were raised across the state. While Polis backed off the MeatOut after 2021, Denver Mayor Mike Johnston has, just this year, supported a similar “Eat Less Meat” campaign, prompting similar rural outrage.

Did I mention there are nearly 36,000 cattle in Elbert County? This is relatively typical of a rural Colorado county, particularly on the Plains.

In Colorado, 2.7 million cattle are raised annually, with a value of US$4.5 billion. The industry is consistently the top agricultural commodity and the second-largest contributor to Colorado’s GDP, at about $7.7 billion per year.

In early March 2021, Polis declared March 22 “Colorado Livestock Proud Day,” in response to the backlash.

Other policies

This came on the heels of several policies supported by Polis prior to the MeatOut controversy that critics considered anti-agriculture.

In 2020, he appointed Ellen Kessler, a vegan and animal rights activist, to the State Veterinary Board. Kessler criticized 4-H programs, designed to educate youth on agriculture and conservation, on her social media, insisting they “don’t teach children that animal lives matter.” Kessler resigned in March 2022, just days before she was cited for 13 counts of animal cruelty. More recently, in May 2025, Polis appointed Nicole Rosmarino to head the State Land Board. Rosmarino has ties to groups that oppose traditional agricultural practices, historically a key component of Colorado State Land Board operations.

Then came wolf reintroduction, passed by urban voters by just under 57,000 votes in the 2020 general election and supported by the governor. Those in support advocated for a return to natural biodiversity; wolves were hunted to extinction in the 1940s.

Rural residents voted decidedly against the initiative. Despite much legislative and grassroots action to oppose it, wolves were reintroduced in December 2023 in various areas along the Western Slope, in close proximity to many ranches. Several cattle have since been killed by wolves. Ever since, rural interests have been working to overturn wolf reintroduction on the 2026 ballot.

An American mess

Rural residents in Colorado have told me they feel excluded. This is not new or exclusive to Colorado, but a story as old as America itself.

University of Wisconsin political scientist Katherine J. Cramer wrote about this rural exclusion in Wisconsin, calling it “rural resentment.” Berkeley sociologist Arlie Russell Hochschild called it “stolen pride.” In their book, Tom Schaller, a political scientist at the University of Maryland, and Paul Waldman, a longtime journalist, characterize it as “white rural rage.”

It’s a dynamic that descends from slavery. Isabel Wilkerson, in her book “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents,” demonstrates that while Black Americans have historically been relegated to the bottom of the hierarchy of an American caste system, poor white people are strategically positioned just above them but below white Americans of higher socioeconomic status. As Wilkerson explains, this is a durable system sustained by norms, laws and cultural expectations that feel “natural.” But they are entirely constructed and designed by the American upper class to intentionally exploit resentment of working-class white people.

The result is what sociologist Michael M. Bell calls a “spatial patriarchy” that characterizes rural America as dumb, incapable, racist, poor and degraded as “white trash.”

This spatial patriarchy is as old as industrialization and urbanization. One of the first policy iterations was rural school consolidation during the turn of the 20th century, designed to modernize schools and make them more efficient. Urban policymakers were influenced by eugenics and the assumption that rural schools “were populated by cognitively deficient children whose parents had not been smart enough or fortunate enough to leave the decaying countryside,” according to sociologist Alex DeYoung.

So, states around the country consolidated schools, the lifeblood of rural communities. Where a school closed, the town often died, as in small towns, schools are not just socioeconomic hubs but centers of cultural and social cohesion.

Environmental impact

The same concept – that urban policymakers know better than rural Americans – is manifest in the modern environmental movement. Like with the MeatOut, rural communities also distrust environmental policies that, in their view, intentionally target a rural way of life. Rural communities take the position that they’ve been made to bear the brunt of the transformations of the global economy for generations, including those that deal with energy and the environment.

For example, environmentalists frequently call for lowering meat consumption and enacting livestock taxes to lower global greenhouse gas emissions.

But, there’s a huge, untapped potential for environmental policies that use language consistent with rural attitudes and values, such as ideas about conservation and land stewardship. Political scientists Richard H. Foster and Mark K. McBeth explain, “Rural residents perceive, probably correctly, that environmental ‘outsiders’ are perfectly willing to sacrifice local economic well-being and traditional ways of life on the altar of global environmental concerns.” They instead suggest “emphasizing saving resources for future generations” so that rural communities may continue to thrive.

The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations attribute between 18% to 24% of greenhouse gas emissions to agriculture, while the International Panel on Climate Change places the estimate closer to 10%. However, agricultural producers point out that, while they may be responsible for that 10%, just 100 companies, such as BP and ExxonMobil, have produced 70% of all emissions. Agricultural producers say policies such as livestock taxes would disproportionately impact small-scale farmers and intensify rural inequality.

Rural communities have the distinct feeling that urban America doesn’t care whether they fail or flourish. Nearly 70% of rural voters supported Trump in the 2024 presidential election. He won 93% of rural counties. Rural Americans feel left behind, and for them, Trump might be their last hope.

Kayla Gabehart, Assistant Professor of Environmental Policy, Michigan Technological University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.