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Atlantic
6 hours ago
- Politics
- Atlantic
Republicans Want to Redraw America's Political Map
This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here. Texas Republicans are planning to redraw their congressional districts this year, five years ahead of schedule. As with most other recent examples of norm-breaking behavior in American politics, the reason for this involves Donald J. Trump. Earlier this summer, the president asked Texas Governor Greg Abbott to dabble in a little gerrymandering to produce five more Republican-leaning districts in his state ahead of the 2026 midterm elections. In July, Abbott answered the call, summoning state lawmakers back to Austin for a 30-day special session, in part to begin working on a new district map. (The Texas legislature is in session only once every other year.) The state has been holding public hearings about the redistricting plan; this morning, state lawmakers released a proposed new map that could give the GOP 30 of the state's 38 House seats and help pad the party's slim majority. Not much appears to prevent Texas Republicans from doing this. States typically redraw their congressional districts every 10 years, after a new census is conducted. But the Texas GOP has gone off schedule before, way back in 2003, and the Supreme Court later ruled that the Constitution doesn't prohibit mid-decade redistricting. There's been plenty of resistance from Texas voters, who've filled public-hearing rooms in protest, and from high-profile politicians, who've appeared at rallies and raised money to fight the new map. The state's Democrats might consider breaking quorum, like they did in 2021 to block a vote on the issue, but GOP lawmakers probably have the leverage to force them back to the table. So far, things are going according to plan for Texas Republicans. They have the votes, and at least right now, they seem to have the political will. But just as important as whether Texas Republicans follow through with redistricting is how Democrats will respond. A gerrymandering war, in other words, could be on the way. 'We're saying to the Texans, 'You shouldn't be going down this path,'' former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said last week. 'You want to go down this path? We'll go down together.' The governors (and wannabe presidential contenders) Gavin Newsom of California and J. B. Pritzker of Illinois both suggested that they will consider redrawing their own state's districts to favor—or further favor —Democrats. Similar efforts are being considered in New York and Maryland too. Many experts—and Democrats themselves —have long argued that partisan gerrymandering is undemocratic and unfair. Their embrace of a gerrymandering tit for tat would reflect a new mindset that many Democrats have adopted in the second Trump era: that they should be just as politically ruthless as Republicans—and when the GOP goes low, the Democrats should meet them there. But two questions complicate this approach. The first is a logistical one: Can Democrats even do what they're threatening to? 'It's a state-by-state determination,' the election-law expert David Becker told me. Some states, such as California and New York, have independent redistricting commissions, which means that any attempt at partisan gerrymandering would require turning that power back over to politicians—a complicated and slow process. Other states, such as Illinois and Maryland, have laws allowing for a little more flexibility when redrawing maps. The other, more pressing question for Democrats is whether they should. They certainly may feel inclined to match the GOP's aggressive tactics, but extreme partisan gerrymandering carries a certain amount of risk, one that Texas Republicans would be undertaking, Becker said. To maximize Republican wins in more districts overall, they might have to reduce their margins in others, making some of those new districts vulnerable in a potential blue-wave election. All this partisan maneuvering is arguably a race to the bottom. Imagine a future in which every two years, states redraw their congressional maps: Voters would find themselves in a new district several times each decade, unable to get to know the people who are supposed to represent them. 'This would do incredible damage to faith in institutions' and add to the cynicism that so many Americans already feel about politics, Dan Vicuña, a senior policy director at Common Cause, told me. 'There appears to be a temptation to meet attacks on democracy with more attacks on democracy,' Vicuña added. It's up to Democrats to decide if they'll resist the urge. Here are three new stories from The Atlantic: To see how America unraveled, go back five years. Emil Bove is a sign of the times. The dangerous logic of CTE self-diagnosis Today's News Former Vice President Kamala Harris announced that she will not run for California governor in 2026, choosing to instead focus on supporting Democrats nationwide after her 2024 presidential loss. Harris didn't confirm any specific future plans. An 8.8-magnitude earthquake struck off Russia's Far East region yesterday, triggering tsunami waves that reached Hawaii, California, and Washington. Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem confirmed this morning that the threat of a major tsunami had 'passed completely,' with no significant damage reported. The Federal Reserve held interest rates steady, despite pressure from President Donald Trump to lower rates, and warned about slowing growth. Officials have signaled potential cuts later this year, as inflation remains somewhat elevated and economic uncertainty increases. A Love Letter to Music Listings By Gabriel Kahane About a year and a half ago, I was scheduled to play a concert in Vermont when word came that the gig would be canceled because of an approaching nor'easter. I checked out of the hotel early, lobbed my suitcase into the rental car, and hightailed it to New York as menacing clouds darkened the rearview mirror. Brooklyn had been home for the better part of two decades, but after a move to the Pacific Northwest, I was returning as a tourist, and the show's cancellation augured a rare free evening in the city. There was just one problem: How was I going to figure out what to do with my night on the town? This used to be easy. More From The Atlantic Read. ' Preamble to the West,' a poem by Iris Jamahl Dunkle: 'Can't lick the witch wind that carries rumors / over shining aurora-lit prairies: / horror of what comes to light at the dawn / of the mind.' Take a look. These photos capture Guédelon Castle, in France, where builders use 13th-century techniques to re-create medieval craftsmanship. Play our daily crossword. P.S. Lots of you responded to last week's newsletter about finding simple moments of joy in your daily life, and I've loved reading your answers. I'll share two of my favorites here, as a bit of a prelude to a forthcoming, small-delights-focused issue of the Daily. Eric wrote in to say that he was inspired by the 2023 movie Perfect Days (which I need to watch!) and is now trying to incorporate a simple, daily gesture into his life: 'When I walk out my door to go to work, I try to remember to just stop, stand, look at my neighborhood and the sky, and smile—it may take only 10 seconds, but it begins the public version of my life on the right foot.' Another idea I liked, from Sarah, is buying one new thing at the grocery store every time you visit: 'It's a mini flavor adventure every trip, whether it turns out I'd buy that thing again or not.'


Atlantic
a day ago
- Business
- Atlantic
Are Tax Cuts a Political Loser Now?
This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here. In theory, the proposition seems foolproof: Everyone hates the taxman and loves to keep their money, so a tax cut must be politically popular. But Republicans' One Big Beautiful Bill Act has tested the theory and found it wanting. A new Wall Street Journal poll shows that more than half of Americans oppose the law, which cuts taxes for many Americans while reducing government spending. That result is in line with other polling. The data journalist G. Elliott Morris notes that only one major piece of legislation enacted since 1990 was nearly so unpopular: the 2017 tax cuts signed by President Donald Trump. The response to the 2017 cuts was fascinating. Americans grasped that the wealthy would benefit most from the law, but surveys showed that large swathes of the population incorrectly believed that they would not get a break. 'If we can't sell this to the American people then we should be in another line of work,' Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said at the time. Americans agreed, giving Democrats control of the House a year later. If tax cuts are no longer political winners, that's a major shift in American politics. McConnell's sentiment reflected the orthodoxy in both parties for more than four decades. Ronald Reagan won the presidency in 1980 by promising to cut taxes, which he did—in both 1981 and 1986. The first cut was broadly popular; the second had plurality support. His successor, George H. W. Bush, told voters while campaigning, 'Read my lips: no new taxes,' and his eventual assent to tax hikes while in office was blamed in part for his 1992 defeat. The next GOP president—his son, George W.—made popular tax cuts. Democrats Bill Clinton and Barack Obama were careful to back higher income taxes only on the wealthy. Although separating Trump's own low approval from the way the public feels about any particular policy he pursues is difficult, the old consensus may just no longer hold. A few factors might explain the shift. First, thanks to 45 years of reductions, the overall tax burden is a lot lower than it was when Reagan took office, especially for wealthy taxpayers. In 1980, the top marginal individual tax rate —what the highest earners paid on their top tranche of income—was 70 percent; it had been as high as 92 percent, in 1952 and 1953. In 2024, it was 37 percent, applying only to income greater than $609,350. Since 1945, the average effective tax rate has dropped significantly for the top 1 percent and 0.01 percent of earners, while staying basically flat for the average taxpayer, according to the Tax Policy Center. The top corporate tax rate has also dropped from a high of 52.8 percent, in 1968 and 1969, to 21 percent, in 2024. Second, and not unrelatedly, income inequality has risen sharply. Although the gap between the wealthiest Americans and the rest of us has stabilized in the past few years, it remains well above historical averages. Voters aren't interested in subsidizing even-plusher lifestyles for the richest Americans. That's especially true when tax cuts are paired with cuts to government-assistance programs such as Medicare and Medicaid. Majorities of people in polls say Trump's policy bill will mostly help the rich and hurt the poor, and they are correct, according to the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office. Third, Republicans have argued for years that tax cuts are good policy because they generate enough growth to pay for themselves. This effect is known as the Laffer Curve, named after the influential conservative economist Art Laffer, and it allows supposed fiscal conservatives to justify tax cuts that increase the deficit in the short term. The problem is that it isn't true. Reagan's tax cuts didn't pay for themselves, nor did W. Bush's, nor did Trump's first-term cuts. These cuts won't either. Voters also consistently worry about the national debt and deficit, and today even liberal economists who wrote those concerns off in the past are sounding alarms, citing the cost of interest payments on the debt and concerns about the debt as a percentage of GDP. This points to a future problem: Even if voters have soured on tax cuts, that doesn't mean they are willing to endorse tax increases. As my colleague Russell Berman explained to me back in May, Republicans felt pressure to pass the budget bill, lest the first-term Trump tax cuts expire—which voters would hate, and which could hurt the economy. (Those cuts were time-limited as part of procedural chicanery.) And few politicians are willing to run on raising taxes. Most Republicans have signed a pledge not to raise taxes. Trump's tariffs are a tax, and he made them central to his campaign, but he also falsely insisted that Americans wouldn't pay their cost. On the other side of the aisle, Democrats have in recent cycles vowed to raise taxes on the very wealthy but generally rejected increases for anyone else. This math won't work out forever. At some point, Americans will have to reconcile the national debt, their desire for social services, and their love of low taxes. It will take a brave politician to tell them that. Here are four new stories from The Atlantic: Today's News A gunman killed four people and critically injured another in a shooting at a building in Midtown Manhattan yesterday evening. He was found dead, and police say a note in his wallet indicated that he may have targeted the NFL's headquarters. The Environmental Protection Agency proposed a revocation of its 2009 finding that greenhouse gases threaten public health, in an effort to end federal climate regulations under the Clean Air Act. The proposal seeks to remove emissions limits for cars, power plants, and oil and gas operations. Ghislaine Maxwell's lawyers said today that Maxwell, who was convicted of child sex trafficking and other crimes, would be willing to testify before Congress under certain conditions, including receiving immunity and the questions in advance. The House Oversight Committee rejected the request. Evening Read Homes Still Aren't Designed for a Body Like Mine By Jessica Slice Seven years ago, while sitting in my eighth-floor apartment with my toddler, I heard a voice over the intercom: Our building had a gas leak, and we needed to evacuate. A few weeks prior, a coffee shop down the street had exploded from a gas leak, killing two people and injuring at least 25. Terror struck me: Our elevators were powered down—and I use a wheelchair. I was trapped, unable to take myself and my child to safety. The fire department quickly determined that it was a false alarm. Still, I didn't stop shaking for hours. After a similar episode a few months later, my husband, David, and I bought a duffel bag the size of a human. We invited our neighbors over for pastries and asked if anyone would be willing to help carry me out during an emergency; my toddler could ride in the bag with me. A few neighbors agreed, but I couldn't ignore that my survival—and that of my child—was contingent on who else might be at home, and who might remember our request and be able to reach me. Eight months later, we moved out. We vowed never to live in a high-rise again. Yet nothing could free me from the indignities of seeking housing while disabled. More From The Atlantic Culture Break Watch. In 2022, David Sims recommended 10 must-watch indie films of the summer —each of which are worthy of as much fanfare as the season's blockbusters. When you buy a book using a link in this newsletter, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic.


Atlantic
2 days ago
- Politics
- Atlantic
How TV Warps Trump's Worldview
This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is a cunning political operator, but even he can't weaken President Donald Trump's bond with television. The two leaders are at odds again over Gaza, now because of human-rights-organization warnings of widespread starvation. Under intense international pressure, Netanyahu has allowed some food aid into the region, but he insists that there is 'no starvation' in Gaza. This morning, before a meeting with U.K. Prime Minister Keir Starmer in Scotland, Trump was asked by reporters whether he agreed with Netanyahu's assessment. 'Based on television, I would say not particularly, because those children look very hungry,' Trump said. Later, he added: 'That's real starvation stuff. I see it, and you can't fake that.' Trump has arrived at the right conclusion in a terrible way. As president, Trump has access to the most powerful information-gathering network in the world, yet he takes his cues from what he watches on television. This helps him see the news from the same perspective as the general public, which has enabled his political success. But it also narrows his understanding, and it makes him highly susceptible to manipulation. In this case, the evidence suggests that Trump is right. Cindy McCain, the executive director of the UN's World Food Programme, has been warning for months of humanitarian disaster; WFP says one-third of Gazans have not eaten for multiple days in a row. Other organizations say Gaza is on the brink of famine. The Israeli government has defended its restriction of aid by saying that Hamas is pilfering food, but that doesn't address its responsibility to feed the civilian population caught up in the war. As Hussein Ibish recently wrote in The Atlantic, more than 1,000 Gazans may have been killed since May just trying to get food. But Trump had little to say on the matter until it broke through mass media, where images of skeletal adults and children with distended bellies make the point more viscerally than any statistics. The spread of videos and photos has helped force this story to the center of attention, just as previous footage helped turn American opinion against the war in Gaza. Less than a quarter of Americans now say Israeli military actions are ' fully justified.' Trump is attuned to—and responds to—this kind of change in public opinion more than he responds to the substance of underlying events. I often think about testimony from Hope Hicks, Trump's former press aide, during his trial in Manhattan related to hush money. Prosecutors asked Hicks how Trump reacted in 2016 when The Wall Street Journal reported on his alleged extramarital sexual relationship with Karen McDougal. Hicks couldn't recall, but added: 'I don't want to speculate, but I'm almost certain he would've asked me how's it playing.' Now, as president, he sometimes approaches news events not as things over which he has control but just like a guy watching from his easy chair, remote in hand: opportunities for punditry, not policy making. Trump's reverence of television interacts dangerously with his skepticism of anyone who represents independent expertise. 'I know more about ISIS than the generals do,' he said in 2015. Former aides say he doesn't read or pay attention during briefings, and he particularly distrusts the intelligence community, to the point that he has repeatedly taken Vladimir Putin's word instead. This means that despite access to high-quality information about what's going on in Gaza, he seems to really perk up only once it's on the tube. Such a narrow information stream is a problem, because TV is not a good source of information on its own; it should be consumed as part of a balanced news diet. That's especially true for the television channel that Trump seems to consume most, Fox News. (The liberal researcher Matt Gertz painstakingly documented the direct connection between Fox News segments and Trump tweets during his first term.) Various research over many years has found that Fox viewers are less informed than other news consumers. Trump's reliance on television news presents an easy target for anyone trying to influence him, as Gertz's research underscores. Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina adopted a strategy of going on TV to try to get messages to Trump. 'Have you conveyed this personally to the president?' a host once asked him during an interview. 'I just did,' Graham answered. Politicians seeking Trump's support have tried to use TV too. Representative Thomas Massie, a Kentucky Republican, ran ads in Florida when he was up for reelection in 2020 to get them in front of Trump. So have Trump opponents wishing to troll him. The fact that the president can be so easily persuaded is concerning enough on its own, and helps explain the policy whiplash during his two presidencies. But it's especially dangerous in an age of misinformation. I wrote in 2017 about how Trump's tendency to fall for fake news could cause him trouble. Eight years later, Trump has a White House staff less interested in saving him from himself, and technology has developed to allow for extremely convincing and realistic deepfakes. Trump's naive belief that you 'can't fake' what you see on TV is belied by the many tear-jerking but counterfeit AI images that circulate on Facebook. When it comes to Gaza, he has access to much more reliable evidence and warnings from human-rights experts, but those don't really seem to penetrate. News coverage is not the only obsession shaping, or warping, the administration's approach to Gaza. The president's inclination to view nearly everything as a potential real-estate deal inspired his bizarre suggestion to clear the strip and turn it into a luxury beachfront development, the 'Riviera of the Middle East.' And his poorly concealed fixation on winning the Nobel Peace Prize seems to animate many of his choices in the region. As an added benefit, a Nobel would play well on the news. Even as TV news is driving Trump's worldview, Trump's worldview is reshaping TV news. Having worked to dominate news coverage for years, Trump now wants to control it directly, as he and Federal Communications Commission Chair Brendan Carr seek unprecedented control over broadcasters such as CBS. Trump once considered starting his own TV network, but he and the nation's major broadcasters could instead create a closed loop with Trump taking his tips from channels that do what he says. Who needs facts when you can construct your own reality? Here are three new stories from The Atlantic: Today's News President Donald Trump announced that he will shorten the 50-day deadline he gave Russia two weeks ago to reach a peace deal in Ukraine. He warned of severe tariffs if no agreement is made soon. About half the country is under active heat advisories, affecting more than 198 million Americans, according to the National Weather Service; some temperatures are reaching higher than 100 degrees Fahrenheit. A federal judge extended a block on a policy in Trump's bill that would have banned for one year Medicaid funding to health-care providers offering abortions. Dispatches The Wonder Reader: Isabel Fattal explores how reading outdoors can transform a traditionally indoor activity into a form of outdoor play—and suggests great reads to bring along on your next adventure. The Weekly Planet: Rising summer heat is leading many Americans to stay indoors—and seems to be contributing to a rare form of seasonal affective disorder, Yasmin Tayag writes. Evening Read The WNBA Has a Good Problem on Its Hands By Jemele Hill For the first time in the nearly three-decade history of U.S. professional women's basketball, its star players have become household names. What would it take for them to get paid accordingly? While warming up recently for the WNBA All-Star Game, players wore T-shirts that read Pay us what you owe us, in reference to the ongoing collective-bargaining negotiations between the players and the league. Until that point, there had not been much buzz about the WNBA's negotiations, but the shirts had their intended result, taking the players' labor fight mainstream. More From The Atlantic Listen. Justin Bieber's new song, 'Daisies,' is not the summer anthem we expected—but it might be the one we need, Spencer Kornhaber writes. P.S. Back in May, I wrote about Trump's plans to accept a white-elephant 747 from Qatar: 'If there's no such thing as a free lunch, there's certainly no such thing as a free plane.' I was thinking primarily about what Qatar might expect in return, but in The New York Times, David E. Sanger and Eric Schmitt report on the more immediate costs of refitting the plane for its new role as Air Force One. No one in government will talk about these costs, Sanger and Schmitt report, but the military appears to be raiding nearly $1 billion from a missile-defense project to pay for Trump's pet project—all while achieving no savings on the plane. It's enough to make you wonder just how sincere Trump is about government efficiency.
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
The Death of Democracy Promotion
The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here. On April 29, 1999, precision-guided NATO bombs tore through the brick facades of two defense-ministry buildings in Belgrade, the capital of the rump state of Yugoslavia. The targets were chosen more for symbolic reasons than operational ones: The American-led coalition wanted to send the country's authoritarian government, at that time engaged in a brutal campaign of ethnic cleansing in Kosovo, a clear message that human rights weren't just words. They were backed by weapons. For decades, the ruins of the buildings, on either side of a major artery through central Belgrade, were left largely untouched. Tangled concrete and twisted rebar stuck out of pancaked floors. Serbian architects fought to preserve the destroyed buildings; the government has treated them as a war memorial. At the time of the 1999 NATO bombings, Aleksandar Vučić, Serbia's minister of information, was tasked with denouncing the West and backing his country's despot, Slobodan Milošević. Today, Vučić has risen in the ranks to become Serbia's president—an apologist for Russia who attacks the press, has been accused of nurturing close ties to organized crime, and is rapidly dragging his country toward authoritarianism. Vučić is not Milošević—he has not led his country into genocidal wars or faced judgment for war crimes at The Hague—but until recently, he might have expected that his authoritarian style would make relations with Washington rocky. That time is past. Instead of harshly condemning Serbia's abuses, America's president, Donald Trump, will build a Trump Tower Belgrade on top of the defense buildings' ruins. 'Belgrade welcomes a Global Icon,' the slick website for Trump Belgrade proclaims. 'TRUMP. Unrivaled Luxury.' The contract for the project has been signed with Affinity Partners, Jared Kushner's investment firm, which is largely funded with billions of dollars in cash from Saudi Arabia. [Read: The US is switching sides] This story is the material expression of the second Trump administration's turn against a long-standing tradition of Western democracy promotion—and of an embrace of conflicts of interest from which the world's despots can only take inspiration. The authoritarians who govern small countries such as Serbia no longer need to fear the condemnation, much less the bombs, of the American president when they crack down on their opponents, enrich themselves, or tighten their grip on power. On the contrary—the American flirtation with similar practices emboldens them. With Trump's unapologetic foreign policy in his second term, American democracy promotion is effectively dead. Prior to the Soviet Union's collapse, Western diplomats cared far more about whether a dictator was an ally or adversary to the Soviets than about the quality of a country's elections or its respect for human rights. If diplomats from Washington or London pushed too hard for democracy, there was a credible risk that a Western ally could defect and become a friend to Moscow. Once the Soviet Union ceased to exist, the world's despots no longer had so much cover; Western diplomats could now push harder. New norms developed, which led to a rapid surge in the number of competitive, multiparty elections. Human rights were no longer just an aspirational buzzword. Some countries lost foreign aid or were shunned by the international community if their government committed atrocities. This pressure to adopt democracy and protect human rights was never applied equally. Powerful countries, such as a rising China, became largely immune to Western cajoling. And strategically important countries, such as Saudi Arabia, in many cases got a free pass, facing little more than rhetorical condemnation while presidents and prime ministers continued to shake hands and ink major arms deals. Meanwhile, in smaller countries, such as Togo, Madagascar, or the former Yugoslavia, the post–Cold War push for democracy and human rights often came not just with lip service, but also with teeth. After all, the White House could afford to lose the goodwill of Madagascar in a dispute over values; its geopolitical priorities would suffer little downside. Moreover, weak countries such as Madagascar depended on foreign aid, such that Western governments wielded far more leverage in them than they did in larger, more self-sufficient countries. For a while, then, small-time despots faced a credible threat: Go too far, rights defenders could hope to warn strongmen, and a Western ambassador could soon be knocking on the palace door. None of this is to say that Western powers were always on the side of the angels. During the Cold War, Western governments made lofty speeches about democracy and human rights while funding coups and arming politically convenient rebels. The CIA played a role in overthrowing popularly legitimate governments, such as those of Mohammad Mossadegh in Iran, Patrice Lumumba in the Congo, and Salvador Allende in Chile. Even after the Cold War, Western governments have cozied up to plenty of friendly dictatorships, in countries such as Saudi Arabia and Equatorial Guinea. [Read: Biden's democracy-defense credo does not serve US interests] And yet, particularly in the last 30 years, Western pressure and foreign aid have been significant forces for global democratization. Dictators and despots knew that the world was paying attention, which gave them pause before they turned their guns on their own people. Foreign aid became tied to the verdicts of election monitors, which drastically expanded operations after the end of the Cold War. With funding from the United States and other Western governments, opposition parties, journalists, and civil-society organizations received training on how to bolster democracy. And when political transitions toward democracy took place, as in Tunisia after the Arab Spring, billions of dollars in support flowed in. Partly because of these shifting international norms, the expansion of political freedom was so abrupt after the end of the Cold War that many believed democracy, having won the ideological battle against rival models of governance such as fascism and communism, had become an inexorable force. But the democracy boom under Bill Clinton gave way to failed wars under George W. Bush and inaction under Barack Obama. Bush, who justified wars in Afghanistan and Iraq partly under the guise of a democracy-and-freedom agenda, inadvertently discredited the notion of values-based 'nation building.' A widespread perception among American adversaries took root that democracy promotion was just a code word for 'regime change carried out by American troops.' This gave dictators political cover to boot out international NGOs hoping to bolster democracy and human rights, branding them as mere precursors for a heavy-handed invasion. Obama, picking up the pieces of that failed foreign policy, downplayed the grand vision of a more democratic world as a guiding principle of American diplomacy, even as countries across the globe began to pivot toward authoritarian rule. Now the world is steadily becoming less democratic. According to data from Freedom House, the world has become more authoritarian every year since 2006. Trump's second term may provide the most potent autocratic accelerant yet. In his first term, Trump routinely praised dictators, including in a memorable moment when he boasted about exchanging 'beautiful letters' with North Korea's tyrant. President Joe Biden, with his much-touted Summit for Democracy, tried to recenter democracy as a core principle of the State Department, but that effort was overtaken by successive geopolitical emergencies in Ukraine and Gaza. Now, with his return to power, Trump has gone further than before to fully uproot democracy promotion from American foreign policy. The list of dismantled initiatives is long. In the first months of the second Trump administration, Elon Musk's Department of Government Efficiency not only slashed America's foreign-aid machinery, effectively destroying USAID, but also targeted the National Endowment for Democracy: a bipartisan grant-making organization established under Ronald Reagan to strengthen democratic values abroad. The Trump administration has effectively kneecapped Voice of America and Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, outlets that have aimed to provide news and information to those living under oppressive regimes. Once viewed as bulwarks against authoritarian censorship, these platforms are now overseen by Trump acolyte Kari Lake. Secretary of State Marco Rubio recently announced an overhaul of the State Department that effectively eliminates programs that work toward peace building and democracy. As an extra gift to the world's despots, on July 16, Rubio signaled that America will no longer stand in the way of election rigging: Washington will condemn autocrats who use sham election-style events to stay in power only if a major American foreign-policy interest is at stake, the secretary made clear, and from now on, American comments on foreign elections will be 'brief, focused on congratulating the winning candidate and, when appropriate, noting shared foreign policy interests.' The world's worst dictators can rest assured that the next American diplomat to come knocking on their palace doors is more likely to be looking for property rights than human rights. Countries such as Saudi Arabia, which always have had a free pass, might not notice the difference. But brutal regimes in less-noticed parts of the world have now gotten the memo that the Trump White House is indifferent to democracy and human rights, and they are acting accordingly. Cambodia has cracked down on journalists while courting American military officials. Tanzania's leader recently arrested his main rival and charged him with treason. Indonesia's president has begun changing laws, militarizing the country, and undermining the principle of civilian rule. Nigeria's president made a power grab that critics say was blatantly illegal. And El Salvador's president, Nayib Bukele, who had faced international criticisms for egregious human-rights abuses, isn't just absolved from American pressure—he's become a much-celebrated friend of the White House, lauded because of his gulags. [Read: El Salvador's exceptional prison state] Already, in regions such as Southeast Asia, brave pro-democracy reformers find themselves newly vulnerable and isolated. In Myanmar, pro-democracy forces fighting the country's military dictatorship long benefitted from American aid. The DOGE cuts put an end to that—and gave the repressive junta an enormous boost. In Thailand, a human-rights organization that once sheltered dissidents fleeing Cambodia and Laos has been forced to close its safehouses, allowing those regimes to more easily hunt down and even kill their opponents. These funding streams had accounted for a tiny proportion of the U.S. government's budget, but their elimination sends a strong signal to the world's autocrats: that virtually no one will now interfere with their designs. Admittedly, the United States is less powerful than it once was, and other countries have always had their own domestic agendas, regardless of what Washington has said or done. But that a growing number of the world's despots no longer have to weigh economic costs or diplomatic consequences for crushing their opponents has already made a difference. Thomas Carothers and Oliver Stuenkel of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace highlighted the fact that shortly after Musk referred to USAID as a 'criminal organization,' autocrats in Hungary, Serbia, and Slovakia began targeting pro-democracy NGOs that had received money from the agency. President Reagan once celebrated the United States as a 'shining city on a hill,' a 'beacon, still a magnet for all who must have freedom, for all the pilgrims from all the lost places who are hurtling through the darkness, toward home.' That is apparently no longer the aspiration of the American government, which now sends its foreign pilgrims to a dehumanizing prison in El Salvador, arrests judges, and suggests that following the country's Constitution may be optional. For democracy to flourish, citizens must yearn for it—and demand it of their governments. At the moment, few can be looking with admiration to the United States as a model. Already in 2024, according to a 34-country survey conducted by Pew Research, the most common perception of American democracy was that the United States 'used to be a good example, but has not been in recent years.' The first months of the second Trump administration can hardly have improved that impression. Nonetheless, democracy—which provides citizens with a meaningful say over how their lives are governed—still has mass appeal across the globe. Brave, principled activists continue to stand up to despots, even though they do so at much greater peril today than even just a few months ago. In Serbia, for example, pro-democracy, anti-corruption protests have persisted for months. Students and workers are demanding immediate reforms and calling on Vučić to resign. In years past, precisely this kind of movement would have provoked White House press releases, diplomatic visits, and barbed statements from the Oval Office. In April, at long last, came a high-profile visit to Serbia from someone closely linked to the Trump administration. But instead of offering support for the pro-democracy demonstrators, this American emissary condemned the protests and implied that they were the sinister work of American left-wingers and USAID. That visitor was none other than Donald Trump Jr., who had arrived in Belgrade to fawn over Vučić in an exclusive interview for his Triggered with Don Jr. podcast, in the months before the newest Trump Tower opens for presales. Article originally published at The Atlantic


Atlantic
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Atlantic
A Gritty and Genuinely Readable Book
This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here. Welcome back to The Daily's Sunday culture edition, in which one Atlantic writer or editor reveals what's keeping them entertained. Today's special guest is Luis Parrales, an assistant editor who has written about what the border-hawk Catholics get wrong and why the papacy is no ordinary succession. Luis is a new fan of the author Mario Vargas Llosa and a longtime listener of the singer-songwriter Jorge Drexler. His other recommendations include 'Femininomenon,' by Chappell Roan; The Bear; and anything by Conan O'Brien—whom he deems 'the king of American comedy.' The Culture Survey: Luis Parrales Best novel I've recently read, and the best work of nonfiction: I was embarrassingly unfamiliar with the Peruvian novelist Mario Vargas Llosa before his death, in April, besides some high-level lore—his role in the Latin American Boom, his failed presidential bid, the time he socked Gabriel García Márquez in the face. Soon after, I decided enough was enough and picked up his historical novel The Feast of the Goat, published in 2000. Through the brutal regime of Rafael Trujillo, who ruled the Dominican Republic until his assassination at the hands of revolutionaries, in 1961, Vargas Llosa explores how the wounds inflicted by a dictatorship remain long after it officially ends. But as gritty and dark as the novel gets—and it gets dark — The Feast of the Goat is one of the most readable books I've ever encountered. That's both because Vargas Llosa's crisp prose makes the 400 or so pages fly by and, more important, because his novel never loses sight of the power of human resilience. I was a bit more familiar with the moral philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre, who also passed away earlier this year. Although best known for his 1981 book, After Virtue (if you haven't already, read David Brooks's reflections on how its arguments help explain President Donald Trump's appeal), MacIntyre also wrote Dependent Rational Animals. The book offers one of the most persuasive cases I've read against treating individual autonomy as the highest ideal, as well as a plea to view our limitations—aging, illness—and dependence on one another not as failings but as constitutive elements of human nature. Oh, and MacIntyre dedicates long stretches of his book to the intelligence of dolphins. Which is great. A quiet song that I love, and a loud song that I love: Quiet: 'If I Don't Hear From You Tonight,' by Courtney Barnett. Loud: 'Femininomenon,' by Chappell Roan. Something I recently rewatched: Before earning box-office cachet with the Dune series, Denis Villeneuve directed Incendies, a modern Sophoclean tragedy set during a civil war in the Middle East. Nearly 15 years after its release, the film remains one of the most sobering portrayals of familial ties on-screen—of how they can at once inflict unspeakable pain and inspire courage and selflessness. The television show I'm most enjoying right now: The latest season of FX's exquisite The Bear. The last thing that made me snort with laughter: For my money, Conan O'Brien is the king of American comedy, though part of his greatness is that he's always reveled in playing the fool. He doesn't have the commanding swagger of a Dave Chappelle or Bill Burr, opting instead for a style that my colleague David Sims has described as a 'mix of silly surrealism with an old-timey flair.' I've been keeping up with O'Brien since his Late Night days, when I would get home from school and play the previous night's episode, so watching him get the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor earlier this year felt plenty nostalgic. The full ceremony is on Netflix now, and it's a comedic cornucopia for any Team Coco stans. The last thing that made me cry: A few weeks before Independence Day, while visiting New York City, I ended up going to mass at Ascension Church, which has a jazz liturgy on Sunday evenings. Most of my favorite church music leans traditional, yet to my surprise, I felt incredibly moved by the unconventional reverence of melodies with echoes of Art Blakey and Miles Davis. One highlight: the jazz mass's version of the hymn 'This Is My Song.' These lines in particular felt providentially relevant for anybody searching for a more warmhearted patriotism: This is my home, the country where my heart is; here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine; but other hearts in other lands are beating with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine. The last museum or gallery show that I loved: Museo Nacional de Historia, in Mexico City. A musical artist who means a lot to me: The Uruguayan singer-songwriter Jorge Drexler isn't super well known in America—though he did write the first Spanish-language song to win an Oscar for Best Original Song—but he's pretty acclaimed in Latin America and Spain, especially for his lyricism. He can use scientific principles (the law of conservation or the evolution of cells, for example) as metaphors for love, or meditate on weighty political questions (migration, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict) without coming off as preachy. No musician means more to me than Drexler, whose art teems with the wonder of a wide-eyed humanist. Only I discern— Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn. Here are three Sunday reads from The Atlantic: The Week Ahead The Naked Gun, an action-comedy film starring Liam Neeson as a hapless yet determined detective (in theaters Friday) Season 2 of Twisted Metal, a postapocalyptic action-comedy series with murderous clowns and a deadly demolition tournament (premiering Thursday on Peacock) Black Genius, an essay collection by Tre Johnson that identifies overlooked examples of genius in the Black community (out Tuesday) Essay The Mistake Parents Make With Chores Each September at the Montessori school I run, the preschoolers engage in an elaborate after-lunch cleanup routine. They bustle through the room with sweepers and tiny dustpans, spreading crumbs all over the floor and making a bigger mess than they started with … Contrast this with my own house—where, in a half-hearted effort to encourage my children to take responsibility for our home, I've been known to say, 'You live here!' as they ignore the pile of dishes in the sink. After years in Montessori classrooms, I assumed that a culture of taking responsibility would develop spontaneously in my family. And it might have, had I not made some early mistakes. More in Culture Catch Up on The Atlantic Finally, a Democrat who could shine on Joe Rogan's show Trump's Epstein denials are ever so slightly unconvincing, Jonathan Chait writes. ChatGPT gave instructions for murder, self-mutilation, and devil worship. Photo Album planned wedding date.