The Juntoo

America once grasped with unity and comity the hands of 193 nations committed to the Paris Accord. It was a seminal, long-sought after agreement that bound in near unanimity all nations of the Earth. And while it was never construed to be irrevocable or ironclad, we assumed the agreement would be ours to protect and improve henceforth. It was a special, unassailable alliance that a smoldering world made in good faith. In one sweeping instant, though, this all has changed. Our fingers are unfurled, our arm rescinded from the world, and our country steps away from this international accord.

In walking away from the Paris Accord, America joins but two nations: Syria and Nicaragua. Together, we make a trio of detractors, but our reasons differ. Nicaragua refused joining the now 192 other nations because the standards for environmental protections weren’t strong enough. As a small Central American nation, whose economy depends above all else on its ecology, Nicaragua is within its rights to demand more. No one can castigate the Nicaraguan government’s intransigence in light of this. Syria, on the other hand, has other issues—namely a years’ long civil war—on its mind. Perhaps this isn’t as noble a “pass” as Nicaragua’s for not joining the Accord, but at the very least, it’s defensible.

The same can’t be said as easily about America. As the supposed exemplar of enlightened thought, scientific progress, and sober analysis, America should be at the helm of this international voyage. We should be charting, as no others can, the vanguard of this defining and all-encompassing issue of our time.

Instead, we spin the wheel and turn away. In the midst of ceaseless speculation about how President Trump would handle he took to the podium in the Rose Garden to announce the nation’s new path. The optics were audacious, I might add, as he revoked the country from an accord intent on protecting the environment while standing in front of an impeccably and beautifully manicured floral festoon. He in the foreground and the flowers in the back painted a sad irony lost on few.

As it takes time for flowers to both bloom and wither away, so too will take America some time to complete its leave from the Paris Accord. The projection is that this exit will require approximately four years. And for the foresightful few, who think in electoral increments, this places our official leave on November 5, 2020. At that time, we’ll officially bid adieu to the Paris Accord, but only if the president is the same. The fail-safe, it seems, is to bide time for a more sympathetic administration to take the reins. The Paris Agreement expiration comes at the heels of America’s 2020 presidential election. This date seems less of a coincidence and more of an assurance for those who’d rather see America stay faithful to our French friends in Paris.

That said, the resolution for a prolonged withdrawal hasn’t quieted people’s anger in the present. Overwhelmingly large swaths of Americans, including prominent scientists and eminent business leaders, have voiced their displeasure and exasperation with Trump’s decision. Prior to his decision, corporations and companies spanning the industrial gamut—disparate businesses from Walmart to Microsoft to Morgan Stanley—implored the president to stay with the Accord. This, more than anything, is telling. When this type of hodgepodge of different businesses comes together with a unified message, politicians (whose campaigns often benefit from their largesse) should listen. Above all else, companies need to profit. Even though they might suffer if tougher climate regulations were to be enacted, they recognize it’s an increasingly consuming concern in their patrons’ minds. Until very recently, this wasn’t the case, but it’s become the corporate zeitgeist as of late.

Unmoved by these Fortune 500 pleas, Trump did what he thought best. And though his decision was startling and disheartening, it wasn’t at all surprising. If you were slack-jawed and shocked at this announcement, you’ve simply been too ingenuous or unreasonably optimistic. Trump had made it an agenda item on his campaign to remove America from the Accord. It is an accord, after all, and as such, it has no legislative binding. It isn’t a treaty, which would’ve necessitated a 2/3 majority vote in Congress for ratification. Therefore, it merely needed a slapdash moratorium extempore to become undone. (Contrary to this, America is still committed to the U.N. Climate Change Treaty agreed upon under President Clinton in 1992).

The decision reeks in the worst way of President Trump and Steve Bannon’s confused “America first” policy. Applying the “America First” philosophy in this way is a fetid failure. You see, America was first—on the vanguard as I mentioned—but now our place will be taken. He reasoned that he wanted to prioritize the people of “Pittsburgh over those of Paris”, but this conceals the fact behind a patriotic smoke screen that in this accord, mutual benefit is the ultimate reward. Pittsburgh’s mayor, privy to this worldview, responded that his city will stay faithful to the standards agreed upon in Paris in 2015.

While other American leaders, be they at the state, city, or federal level, seem to understand it, the Trump administration looks as though it doesn’t get, and therefore, doesn’t accurately represent, the Accord’s essence. Trump cited the “Draconian” economic burdens the agreement imposes upon the U.S. In truth, no burden is or will be imposed upon America that she has not willfully chosen to impose upon herself. The Paris Agreement was a multilateral agreement, supported in turn by each nation’s independent and provincial self-interest. Every one of the 193 nations involved determined their own benchmarks and standards they thought to be not only appropriate but practicable. Some, by necessity, couldn’t afford to be as ambitious as others. As an example, some developing nations haven’t the green technology or the bureaucratic stability to enact sweeping climate conscious resolutions. And while that’s not ideal, the hope is that in time, those impediments will be removed. This idea that Paris infringed on American economic and industrial interests is simply untrue. If the Accord is injurious, it’s by means of a self-inflicted wound.

Every involved nation set its own goals for things like emissions and clean energy production. They did so without fear of legal consequence or international repercussions, and that’s what makes this accord so novel and encouraging. Every country is responsible for its own, but each is answerable to its committed neighbors. It combines sovereignty, responsibility, and comity in one unanimous, ambitious, and unprecedented agreement.

The president did offer to world a humble proposal. He said that he’d be open to re-negotiating the Accord’s terms if the world community was willing. If not though, he said with an ambivalent and undermining shrug, “that’s fine too”. In response, European leaders have taken the “that’s fine too” route; they say nothing new can be made of the deal. They’ve made quite explicit their intent to keep to the status quo and not to steer from a hard-won agreement that took years to bear fruit. Not even Trump’s vaunted deal-making virtuosity can change this intransigent global community’s opinion.

One perplexing thing about Trump’s decision is that it’s widely inconsistent with the majority of Americans’ opinion. Considering he’s been dubbed a populist par excellence, one might’ve expected him to play closer to the polls on this one. The statistics show that only 31% of Americans support leaving the Paris Accord. This minority likely reflects a small subset in the Republican party, since all liberals and most centrists (and even those slightly right of center) consider the Accord a valuable thing. There is the thought that Trump was solely trying to appease his base. Being that his approval rating hovers around 30%, it could just be that he pulled out from Paris to appease the staunchest fundaments of his base.

This is the view from home, but the nationalist’s message would be nothing if it didn’t toss invectives overseas. Trump inveighed at length about China and India the two most frequent recipients of his scapegoating and scorn. He complained that these two Asian behemoths (one leaping ahead in strides and the other burgeoning not far behind) had unfair and undemanding regulations, relative to our own. This isn’t quite so, and both have actually made surprising and propitious progress thus far.

Far from earning the environmentalist’s envy or high regard (both have major cities where it remains unsafe to inhale without a mask, thanks to the prodigious smog), China and India have nevertheless changed their approach to the environment.

India has significantly increased its solar market while China is bustling to become a world-leader in clean energy development. Clean energy, as they’ve hesitantly come to realize, is the obvious path for the future—for both commerce and humanity. Their governments have become wise to this, while America’s has become cynical. The Chinese government is investing heavily in these markets and is making cheaper and more efficient the products America once created in isolation. If America’s presence in this sector contracts in light of Trump’s decree, China’s will invariably expand. They and not America, will enter the future as the ne plus ultra when it comes to green energy.

So, the question is, who is it we want to be? The leader of the pack, or the nation on the outside looking in? The Paris Accord might not be a perfect first step, but it is a substantial first step. It can be likened to a child. The toddler might stand, wobble, tumble, and fall when attempting first to walk. Does this make the effort less worthwhile? Does this mean, having fallen once, a proper stride won’t ever be possible? Of course, in time, the cadence will come. The gait will hasten and he’ll begin to run. But if the first step is stymied, as President Trump has just done, we’ll never reach our end.

I’ll leave you with this. It’s a quote from Seneca the Younger. He said, “Ashes are the work of a moment…a forest the work of centuries”. At the risk of seeming too reactive, I urge you to replace “moment” with “government”. The implications, if we stand for them and allow them to pass, might not be too far-fetched.

Instead of blithely imbibing on the Stanley Cup and NBA playoff games, a different kind of spectacle is gobbling up America’s attention. It’s an enthralling, albeit surprising sport from which viewers can’t be detached. It’s the year’s defining moment in a year filled with defining moments. I speak, of course, of the Comey Countdown. Otherwise known as the C-SPAN Super Bowl or Washington’s Wimbledon or the Political Grand Prixes, anyone with so much as a passing interest in politics has been awaiting this moment on bated breath. Not since the lewd Lewinsky days or the ignominious Nixon hours have Americans been so fixated on the country’s political goings-on.

Just how is it we’ve come to arrive at this fever pitch? After all, in any other case, the now former FBI Director James Comey’s testimony would be nothing more than fodder for political wonks. It would pique the interest of D.C. insiders and the periphery. Unlike this niche of journalists and enthusiasts, most other Americans wouldn’t sacrifice a balmy summer’s day to witness this type of event. We’re supposed to be estivating, barbecuing, sun-bathing, frolicking—instead, all eyes are glued to the screen and all ears are stretched like strings to hear what James Comey has to say.

For those late in joining this tale, the background is as follows: James Comey, the once FBI Director who worked for the Obama administration and briefly for President Trump’s, is set to testify before an open court about the circumstances surrounding his firing on May 9^th. Much to President Trump’s consternation, Comey was leading an investigation into Russia’s meddling in the 2016 election. Trump, believing himself guiltless of any sin, urged Director Comey to share publicly this wishful innocence. Comey refused. Trump’s patience wore thin and his acrimony grew. It ultimately grew such that Trump pulled the trigger and fired Comey. He did this—under conflicting motivations—and the fall-out was severe. Opponents bellowed, “foul play” and obstruction of justice accusations flailed in the air. The cacophony became a chorus and it seems now more feasible. What’s more, tune has its canary in James Comey, who’s ready and willing to sing. What he says will assuredly be revealing and could possibly be damning.

Damning, that is, for President Trump. Frankly, this testimony could spell the end of his short-lived but hitherto successful political career. Pundits have hinted that a damaging testimony from Comey could potentially sink this ship. It’s due cause for disquiet in the Trump cabinet, which has been walking on needles since Inauguration Day. Administration aides see Comey’s day in court as an inflection point and possibly a breaking point in the early dawn of Trump’s tenure.

An early missive has been made available, and it details what exactly Comey intends to say. As per this premature account, Comey will describe the frequency with which he and the president spoke. This in itself is innocent enough, except when one considers how unusual it is. For the president to be so incessantly contacting the Department of Justice on his own behalf is an unsettling thing. The two held private audiences on no less than nine occasions, surpassing in number and in kind those held between both men’s predecessors. Recognizing this, and feeling slightly uneased by this breach in custom, Comey began keeping detailed notes each time he and the president met. It was either Comey’s punctiliousness or paranoia (or maybe a combination of both) that led him to do such a thing. Immediately after every meeting with President Trump, Comey would jot down in his journals all of the conversation’s noteworthy points.

Trump’s supporters and Comey’s skeptics have raised a legitimate concern. In regard to his seemingly meticulous memos, the question of doctoring or imperfect recall becomes a problem. It could be that Comey misremembered or is deliberately misrepresenting his accounts. For this, one must examine his history and his idiosyncrasies. Comey sees himself as the honest ne plus ultra in a deceit-ridden political clime. He’s played this role to the annoyance and ebullience of both sides—Democratic and Republican. Whether with Clinton or with Trump, he’s inconvenienced both parties in turn. He’s been scrupulously consistent, if not importunately so. For this reason, the question of his impartiality and of his notes’ legitimacy can’t be so easily raised.

Assuming, as I must, that Comey’s notes are indeed veracious, it looks like Trump has been caught red-handed. From Comey’s account, it appears that during an evening meal, the president made an alarming request. During the repast, which was attended only by Trump, Comey, and the West Wing walls, the president basically asked for Comey’s fealty. Above all, the president thirsts for loyalty, and those who provide it are reciprocated in turn. Comey, however, appears to have ambiguously rebuffed the president’s request. Trump asked for his loyalty. Comey assured him his honesty. These otherwise clear distinctions combined into Trump asking for his FBI director’s “honest loyalty”, to which Comey agreed. Subsumed in the semantics, Trump and Comey left the dinner thinking different things.

Trump later raised his concerns about his controversial and treasonous National Security Advisor, Michael Flynn. Again, addressing Comey, the he said, “I hope you can let this (the Flynn-Russia investigation) go”. He wanted Comey to “see his way clear” of the investigation into General Flynn. Comey, we now know, did not and for because of this, was fired. Unburdened of his bête noire, Trump allegedly celebrated the fact that Comey was gone. He told aides and Russian emissaries that firing the “nut job” James Comey would ease pressure on him personally and the Russia investigation generally.

This is where things stand as Comey prepares for his day in court. Most clear-eyed Trump supporters are nervous, and rightfully so. In a most sympathetic reading, Trump’s private audiences and remarks to James Comey will be considered outré or the mistakes of a political neophyte. More realistically though, they’ll be seen as nefarious and calculated—as not-so-subtle attempts to exculpate himself from the pestering collusion allegations. Comey’s testimony might indicate how Congress will proceed. It could be that his testimony roils and stirs its members into pressing the “obstruction of justice” case even further. The countdown continues. America awaits with eagerness and glee.

Comedy, as W.C. Fields once quipped, is just a tragedy that plays out on someone else’s stage. It was as true a trope in Vaudeville as it is today in Tinseltown. Try not to chuckle seeing another person slip, or while texting and walking, they trip. Keep a straight face, if you can, when Larry pokes Moe or when Costanza cries. Smother that smile when Chaplin takes a spill or when Kramer catches a cold. The best and oldest comics never could avoid a sewer left ajar or keep from catching their coattail in a moving car. Comedy, like beauty, is forever in the eyes of the beholder and just like a pretty face, there’s a sliding scale of attraction. It begins on one side with innocuous shticks and ends on the other with obnoxious gimmicks, but where the lines should be drawn, like the lineaments on one’s chin, no one knows for sure.

Enter on stage, Kathy Griffin. The comedienne seems to have found these cumbersome lines too restrictive. For those unacquainted, she’s the indefatigable, incarnadine lady who pops up from time to time. She’s always loquacious, less frequently funny, and never slow to squirm into the conversation.

She was recently photographed holding President Trump’s bloodied, decapitated head in her hand. It was a mask, rest-assured, but the countenance was more doppelganger than caricature. It really looked quite real. What it lacked in flesh and bone it made up for in latex. It had every strand of Trump’s wisping golden coiffure, every spray-can splash of his bronze tinge, and every paralyzed pucker of his two pouting lips set just like the man himself—except gruesomely disheveled and stained red. Griffin, for her part, sternly looks into the camera ahead. She wears a stolid, triumphant look, as though she guided the guillotine herself and reaped the result.

Less known for her prop use (particularly when compared with her fellow Carrot Top), Griffin fell completely flat on her face. Instead of laughter, it fomented disgust. But it wasn’t just disgust from the Right, or from Trumpians and Bannonites. Nearly everyone from every political side found the image crass and uncouth. I might add this isn’t an easily accomplished thing to do. To be so tactless as to incite disgust from the literati to the glitterati and the Democrat elites to the GOP is no easy feat. Unanimity is more than ever a rarity in these polarizing times.

All agreed, however, that the image would’ve been better off shelved (or better still, never taken). Feeling the incensed groundswell around her, Griffin wasted no time in doubling down. An explanation was needed for such an abhorrent “artistic” ruse. Her inspiration, if you could call it that, was when Trump shocked all of our sensitivities with his Megyn Kelly comment—the one when he insinuated the former Fox News host was on her period with “blood coming out of her eyes” and “blood coming out of her…wherever”. What Trump said back then is no less louche than it is today (I am of the firm belief that menstruation and douches should have no place in polite conversation), but Griffin is still wrong for having taken this shot.

In the immediate aftermath, Griffin’s corporate sponsors quickly cut their ties. CNN moved to replace her from its annual New Year’s Eve program. Co-anchor Anderson Cooper took to Twitter to express his disgust. Gigs and specials desiccated just like that. And, inevitably, President Trump and the first family took to Twitter to vent their vexations. These included rare remonstrations from the elder Trump sons (including the laconic Eric) and the first lady, Melania. Understandably, this was a family affair and all were upset.

For Griffin, an apology mightn’t have been sufficient, but at the very least it could’ve been a start. By showing she was contrite early, she could have perhaps even saved her face and put herself in the public’s better graces. Maybe that would’ve meant reclaiming a sponsor or two. Instead, she sniffled, let fall a few crocodile tears, and then tore into Trump. She sallied a solipsistic “woe-is-me” assault by saying things like,

“I don’t think I’ll have a career after this…”

“He (President Trump) broke me…”

“They’re trying to use me as a distraction…” and

“A sitting president of the United States and his grown children and the first lady are personally trying to ruin my life forever”.

I’m sorry, the soundbites have confused me. Who is the victim again? Her apology was pitiful, petulant, and just downright annoying. I will say though, that much of comedy is irony, and little is as ironic as a woman whose career built on incessant, idle chatter is being felled by the silence of a photo.

Does the fault lay with Griffin and Griffin alone for thinking this humorless and odious image was okay? It most certainly does. But it must be pointed out that President Trump provides comedians with a challenging task. Perhaps this is because not long ago, he was one of them—a reality TV star jostling for face time and ratings among other stars. This is a role he relished, and one that’s since become sewn into his DNA. In all forms of media—from television, to newspapers, and magazines—he was ridiculed as often as he was revered. On one night, millions would be dreaming to be him after watching Celebrity Apprentice. On the next, millions more would be reaming into him and making him a mockery on Comedy Central’s “roast”. It made for a strange baseline from which to judge and treat the civilian Donald Trump, it’s been made all the more difficult to figure out how to deal the president Donald Trump. Because of this, the late-night shows and stand-up specials need to be especially careful in charting a course.

At the end of the day, love him, loathe him, or simply accept him, he is the president of the United States. So long as he calls the White House “home”, he deserves respect. You don’t need to agree with his personality, his vagaries, or his policy, but he does steer the nation from a hallowed seat. This in itself deserves an iota of courtesy. At the same time, I don’t want free speech—whether it be incisive or comedic—to be stifled. Ribald raillery should always have its place and, if I may offer a solution, “coarse courtesy” toward the president might be the way to go. We’ll only know for certain when the next line is crossed.

Jared Kushner is the Trump administration’s amaranthine boy-wonder. Always on the scene, he’s at once both omnipresent and unnoticed, conspicuous and laconic. In a gaggle of Goldman Sachs executives and military commanders, Kushner stands alone as the picture-perfect politician. He’s the unsullied white knight in a cabinet covered with soot. He’s the millennial who runs roughshod over his septuagenarian staff.

But it’s not just his aura that’s caused observers to take note. That same tall, lean, gracile frame that lends itself to magazine shoots looms large in the president’s eyes. That powerfully youthful, confident, toothless grin puts many a hostile actor at ease. He’s demure and disarming (perhaps disarming because he’s demure), but I warn you: do be careful when underestimating him—as you’re surely bound to do. Kushner, you see, is no fool. Each step along the path that’s ended in his father-in-law becoming president of the United States has enlarged his role. For Trump, Kushner’s become an indispensable advisor, a filial confidante, and a power-wielding plenipotentiary. How did he get there?

Democrats initially regarded Kushner—the son of a real estate mogul turned white-collar felon—to be an innocuous underling in the campaign. When President Trump took his office, this feeling largely remained the same. In some ways, Liberals saw themselves in him. Like looking in the mirror, they saw an urbane urbanite soaked in blue. Democrats were comforted in knowing where his wife and the president’s daughter Ivanka’s sympathies normally leaned. Her Liberal worldview was thought to inform if not conform with that of Kushner’s. This was a presumption, based on the fact that Kushner has been such a taciturn chap. No one really knew where he stood on the issues of the day. His history of recorded interviews or speeches is exceedingly sparse. For a man so well-endowed (his father’s business, Kushner Companies, was worth many millions of dollars, even after he was very publicly tried and imprisoned for tax evasion, witness tampering—which entailed him employing a prostitute to seduce his brother-in-law—and illegal campaign contributions) this was an unusual thing. Democrats, therefore, were willing to give Jared the benefit of the doubt.

It seems though, that they gave Kushner this “benefit” in haste; their opinion of him has since soured as a more detailed picture of the statesman emerges. The Washington Post reported—and Fox News disputed—that in December of 2016, a short time before the inauguration occurred, Kushner met with the ambassador to Russia, Sergey Kislyak. Unlike Kushner, much is known of Kislyak and he needn’t an introduction (he’s the one who was captured chortling in the Oval Office with President Trump and holding undisclosed audiences with Jeff Sessions and Michael Flynn—leading to the former’s recusal and the latter’s ouster). In talking with Kislyak, Kushner’s goal was to improve what had become the anemic communication lines between Washington and Moscow. While I agree that open dialogue and unfettered correspondence between the world’s leading nations is a worthwhile thing, Kushner went about it all wrong.

His proposal was to set up a clandestine, direct line connecting the two capitals east and west. Essentially, what he wanted to do was circumvent the normal and secure way in which America and her interlocutors (be they France, Russia, or Saudi Arabia) communicate. His idea was to construct a secret, unilateral line to link the two states. How does a line of communication come to be unilateral, you might ask? Kushner’s proposal was that any information sent from America to Russia would be inaccessible for review and hidden from oversight. In turn, responses coming from Russia to America would be open to the normal process of review.

To say the least, Kushner’s proposal seems a bit suspicious. To read it and think there’s nothing to hide requires a naiveté I’m unprepared to admit. An honest understanding of what Kushner’s after is this: his goal is to veil America’s output in secrecy and send what could be compromising or damning information to the Kremlin carte blanche. It’s a power-play without legs to stand on. In light of the ongoing investigation of his father-in-law’s potential indebtedness to Russia (financial or otherwise), this should be a major concern. It would be an inappropriate thing for any president to do, but for this one, especially so. Because of this, national security and honesty must take a seat behind the day’s more important political expediency.

The White House, for its part, was initially reluctant to respond to the story. It was published while President Trump was traveling abroad. His diplomatic discoursing demanded his time more than anything else. But since then, two surrogates—National Security Advisor McMaster and Homeland Security Chief Kelly—have spoken out in support of Kushner’s plan. Mind you, it’s a plan that both departments they head would consider unprecedented and subversive. McMaster said, “I am not concerned” (about the backchannel communication) and Kelly stated that this type of communication, “Doesn’t bother me” and “Is a good thing”. It’s difficult to imagine these Cold War hardened veterans saying such things.

We’re left now with two possibilities: the first is that Kushner’s attempt was one of political naiveté. Defenders of this position will say he doesn’t know the rules of the game. It’s that simple. Kushner comes from a world of concessions and deals to get things done where bureaucracy and precedents matter little. Understood as such, the defenders will condone him. Others, however, will assail him for being conniving and subversive, of knowing better but acting worse all the same. They’ll claim it’s not political virginity that guides his missteps, but a guileful perfidy. To them, Kushner is the epitome of a faux-naïf.

McMaster and Kelly’s comments have made the choice between these two verdicts harder. More than anyone else, they know the inter-workings of these processes and—more importantly—what how affective their employment can be. McMaster made the point that secret communication, albeit under much circumstances much different than those we’re discussing in regard to Trump, has been used to America’s advantage in the past. In what eventually culminated in the “Cuban Thaw” under President Obama, secret meetings between high-ranking American and Cuban representatives were held in Canada. As another example, the Obama administration conducted secret meetings with Iranian diplomats in the lead-up to the Iranian Deal in 2013.

Granted, whether or not you consider these negotiations (secret or not) to be “advantageous” is a matter of taste. One differentiation must be noted, though, when comparing Kushner’s backchannel to those of Obama. Obama covertly orchestrated these deals as the President of the United States and not as a private, unelected citizen advisor to the Commander-in-Chief. Even if Kushner acted under the full aegis of then president-elect Donald Trump, he still acted improperly as a private man.

The revelation of Kushner’s attempt has since piqued the FBI’s interest. The bureau will likely be investigating his meeting with Kislyak (a meeting he failed to disclose prior to Trump’s swearing-in) and an unconnected meeting he attended in 2014 with the head of a Russian-owned bank. Then as now, this bank was under American sanctions which would deem Kushner’s acquaintance with them potentially illicit.

Ever-ready with an excuse loaded at his lips like a bullet in a barrel, Kushner’s attorney dismissed all suggestions that his client acted mendaciously. He denied that Kushner intended to conceal his Russian meetings from the FBI and that the snafu was the result of an “administrative error”. Clerical errors undoubtedly abound, but at what point does their recurrence become disconcerting? Kushner is not alone in his failure to disclose his meetings with Russians. As I said, he’s among many, including Sessions, Flynn, Paul Manafort, and Carter Page, who also failed to disclose similar meetings.

That said, Kushner is now the newest person added to the FBI’s “Most-Wanted…Trump Administration Edition” list. In the coming months, investigators will learn if it really is just a coincidence of clerical errors and innocent mistakes or if there is something more nefarious beneath the surface. Is Jared Kushner the hapless product of political naiveté, or are his motivations mendacious? Is it statecraft virginity, or crafty and cunning perfidy? As is the case with Kushner, we simply don’t know.

Following Montana’s special election last week, the use of fighting words to describe our politics feels oddly uncomfortable right about now. Those pugilistic political euphemisms we so love much—phrase like candidates exchanging “body blows”, or rebuffing media “attacks”, or going to the mat for fiscal policy “fisticuffs”—seem inappropriate at the nonce. If said in polite society, you too might get a “too soon” glare.

We can thank Greg Gianforte for this. Gianforte is the Republican candidate aiming to replace Montana’s congressman Ryan Zinke—who now serves as President Trump’s Secretary of the Interior—in the House of Representatives. In Zinke’s absence, the law requires someone to step in and fill his seat. Gianforte thinks himself just the man for the job.

He’s a hardened conservative of fifty-six and a business behemoth. His net worth exceeds $315 million, and through his career, he’s had a hand in business, engineering, and politics. You would think him adroit, and able to grasp many things as they come, but in the waning hours before the election that would add to his already successful pedigree, Gianforte lost his grip on civility.

To lose one’s grip is forgivable, so long as the hands busy themselves with innocuous occupations. Some stave off their idle hands’ instincts by keeping them in pockets or twiddling thumbs. Others simply sit on them. To each his own, but for Gianforte, neither of these past times appealed to him. Instead, in the furor of an unhinged reptilian response, Gianforte grabbed The Guardian’s political reporter Ben Jacobs and slammed him to the ground. What, you may ask, did the journalist do to deserve such uncongenial treatment? What sort of a transgression could’ve prompted this response?

The craft of Jacobs’ trade was his aggravating offense; the sedulous work of the fourth estate his sin. Doubtless infused with temerity and surely looking for a fight, Jacobs posed a wonky question to Gianforte about the recent healthcare bill and the Congressional Budget Office’s appraisal of it. A wanton body slam is what Jacobs received in turn. If such a question doesn’t stoke the fistic flame in a man, nothing will. The exchange was captured in its entirety on audio and corroborated by others on the scene. You can audibly hear Jacobs being brought to the ground.

Some of the more indecent commentators on the far Right are of the mindset that Jacobs “had it coming”. Others are lauding Gianforte for giving a pesky pundit his just deserts. Essentially, these marginal commentators see in Jacobs the media at-large. He represents that which they love to loathe; a trenchant yuppie pretentious and transgressing. To them, he’s the epitome of the effete liberal pest biting at their feet. And pests must be swept away (or stomped into tomorrow). Many of these far-Right commentators and agitators crave a liberal-free media world. They’d rather do away with the CNN’s, MSNBC’s, Politico’s, and Washington Post’s of the world root and branch. All, as we’ve been told time and again, are fake news.

The loudest trumpeter of the fake news phenomenon is President Trump himself. He’s the pied piper who plays this platitude on a loop. For this reason, some on the Left believe Trump is responsible for prompting Gianforte’s Neolithic answer to an otherwise anodyne question. I think, though, that this rendering gives the president too much credit (if you can call this creditworthy). It also assumes he wields much more influence than he actually does. Aside from a few bewildering beliefs on creationism and aging, Gianforte seems to be a well-adjusted, self-sufficient adult. As I mentioned earlier, during his admirable career as a businessman and engineer, Gianforte was quite the success. I have to believe his failings are independent of the president’s rhetoric and his barbarity his alone to bear. The onus is squarely and only on Gianforte—and not on President Trump.

In responding to the assault, Gianforte’s campaign was downright costive. For days, it dallied in issuing an apology, and when it finally did, the words seemed insincere. Gianforte first tried to impugn Ben Jacobs’ account of the brouhaha. He claimed that it was Jacobs, not he, who started the fight. His claim was that Jacobs grabbed his wrist in a threatening way, and he simply acted out of self-defense. This specious story proved itself to be just that. The audio laid to rest all suspicions. On the tape, you can hear Gianforte acting like the intractable troglodyte that he is.

As such, Gianforte was charged with misdemeanor assault and is due before court in the weeks to come. It’s a charge that fits the crime, but what then of the congressional race? Surely such a brute can’t be fit to fill an estimable seat in D.C.? While you can argue his fitness or lack thereof, the fact is this: Gianforte will indeed be heading to the Capitol as Montana’s newest addition to the House of Representatives. Because of the Big Sky’s remote geographic makeup, most voters had already submitted by mail their choice before this recent kerfuffle. Voters in Montana, often living in bucolic open-spaces many miles away from polling stations, have an easier time sending ballots through the mail. The major newspapers rescinded their support for Gianforte, but it was all too late. His victory was ultimately a fait accompli.

I was intrigued to see how House and Senate Republicans would respond. Would they deny Gianforte his seat, or force him to seek anger-management therapy? Would they themselves resign in protest if such a man were to be granted access to their hallowed halls? To all questions, the answer was a resounding no. Party solidarity, you see, supplants and supersedes human decency. Situated somewhere between prostrate and hypocritical, the Republican Party finds itself shamefully allowing Gianforte to sit. This, from a party whose pillars are prudence, conservative ethics, and self-control, seems to me nearly as disgusting as what Gianforte did.

Aloof, callous, or just completely unconcerned, President Trump tweeted, “Big win in Montana for Republicans” to celebrate Gianforte’s win. I suppose, in a small way, it is a “big win”, but that’s a temporary thing. What’s bigger is what’s been lost. On this list, we add civility and decency, respect and humanity. Someone seeking a position in civil service would do well to remember the word that defines the role: civil. First and foremost, the civil servant must protect the persons he represents—in this case America’s citizens no matter their political persuasion. Gianforte woefully fell short of this most essential imperative. I can only conclude, then, in light of this, that civil politics simply isn’t Gianforte’s forte.