Yesterday, at 3:29 p.m., the United States' War in Afghanistan came to an end. The last American C-17 lifted off from Hamid Karzai International Airport, and a conflict that began with, arguably, the biggest bang in American history ended with something of a whimper.
It would not be unreasonable to say the evacuation was a great success. Around 6,000 Americans were extracted from the country, including all military and U.S. government personnel. In addition, roughly 114,000 Afghans were able to escape with U.S. assistance. This despite the unexpectedly rapid collapse of both the Afghan government and army. There is no analogue in U.S. history; even Saigon was smaller in scale, and also took place under (nominally) better conditions.
On the other hand, one could also focus on the failures. The Taliban is back in control, having encountered virtually no resistance as they reclaimed power. There was last week's terrorist attack, of course, and with it the possibility that ISIS and Al-Qaeda are on the rise once again. Further, the U.S. was not able to get everyone out of Afghanistan that it wanted to rescue. There are about 500 Americans left in the country; about half of those wanted to be extracted and were not. If there is a clear explanation for what happened with those 250 folks, and why they were left behind, we have not seen it. Perhaps that will become clearer as the dust settles. We have also seen nothing specific on how many Afghans were left behind. Perhaps that number will also be revealed at some point, but it's also possible it will never be known, and maybe even that it cannot be known.
Many media types are declaring this to be the end of "America's longest war." Indeed, the headline of the piece linked in the first paragraph is "The last US military planes have left Afghanistan, marking the end of the United States' longest war." While that suits the general desire for drama and for all news to be BIG NEWS, this is patent nonsense. The Cold War (mid-1940s to early 1990s), the War on Drugs (1980s or earlier to present), and the War on Terror (2001 to present) all eclipse Afghanistan. One might argue those were metaphors, or were rhetorical, and yet they all involved decades of domestic tension, heightened military spending, and use of military force to advance strategic goals.
Even if you reject the notion that those "thematic" wars were actually wars, it doesn't matter. Limiting ourselves to more conventional wars, in which the United States armed forces engaged regularly and violently with an armed opponent, the longest conflict in American history is, without question, the Indian Wars. You don't even have to take our word for it; the U.S. government maintains an official list of "periods of war," updated each year, and used for purposes of awarding certain veterans benefits. That list says that the Indian Wars took place from "January 1, 1817, through December 31, 1898, inclusive," which is 81 years. Even if you want to argue that the Indian Wars were, in fact, a collection of many different wars against many different Native American nations, the U.S. still battled the Apache Nation regularly from 1849-86, which is 37 years.
In short, there is no viable argument for Afghanistan as the United States' longest war. And the point here is not to make a historians-know-best point about the past. It is to give an illustration of the tendency of the media (and of politicians, for that matter) to overdramatize things. This may just come up again later in this item.
Anyhow, as the U.S. and the world move into the post-Afghanistan era, there are four important questions that present themselves, from where we sit:
Anyhow, that's how we have it roughly 12 hours after the Afghanistan War ended. Time will tell if we have the right of it, or if we'll be proven as wrong as Neville Chamberlain was when he claimed in 1938 that he had secured "peace in our time" thanks to his negotiations with Adolf Hitler. (Z)
Speaking of distractions, Afghanistan has captured a lot of attention, as have the hurricane and the latest pandemic developments. Even for those whose gaze is trained on Texas, attention is being paid to voting laws and mask mandates. That means that very few folks have noticed that the gutting of Roe v. Wade, courtesy of the Lone Star State, could be just 24 hours away.
When Mitch McConnell cooked the books to create a 5-4 conservative majority on the Supreme Court, many red states responded by passing garden-variety abortion bans, with the idea that they would trigger lawsuits and, in turn, give SCOTUS an opportunity to reinvent U.S. abortion law. Texas decided to try a different approach. Their S.B. 8, passed into law by the Republican-dominated legislature, and signed by Gov. Greg Abbott (R), criminalizes abortion six weeks after conception (i.e., long before most women know they are pregnant). It further defines anyone who does anything to "encourage" the abortion to be an "abettor." So, if a person drives a woman to an abortion clinic outside of Texas, or counsels a woman to get an abortion, or hold her hand while the procedure is underway, they are an "abettor." And in the coup de grace, enforcement of the law is left to private citizens, who are empowered to file suit against abettors. The abettors would be subject to as much as $10,000 in fines, and if they are also an abortion provider, would immediately be shut down by the Texas court system.
The whole purpose of these gymnastics is to create a situation where there is nobody to sue preemptively. Since abortion bans are normally enforced by state officials, they can be enjoined from doing so. But when all 29 million Texans (and, in fact, all people outside Texas, too) are potential enforcers, there's nobody to target until someone actually files and wins a $10,000 lawsuit.
There is a legal case percolating in the federal system, but various judges (Republican appointees, all) have declined to fast-track it. Those same judges have refused to issue an injunction. And so, the ball is now in the Supremes' court. If they don't stay the law today, then it will take effect tomorrow. And then it will quickly become difficult-to-impossible to get an abortion in Texas, a state of affairs that will last until the lawsuit is resolved, and that may be permanent.
So, what will SCOTUS do? Everyone knows they want to restrict abortion, and this would allow them to do so without getting their robes dirty. Undoubtedly, if they chose to look the other way, many red states would quickly pass laws based on the Texas law. On the other hand, do the justices want to yield their authority over this very significant issue to...a state legislature? Further, will they be concerned about some of the cans of worms this would open? What if a blue state passed a law that said that any citizen can sue a gun owner for $10,000 unless that gun owner can prove they are a member of a "well-regulated militia"?
It is also remarkable that Abbott & Co. are apparently not only unconcerned about such cans of worms, but also about other likely effects of this law. Do they really want the optics of someone who tried to counsel an impoverished, scared 15-year-old being sued and raked over the coals in state court? Do they want the courts inundated with lawsuits from both pro-life fanatics and people looking for a quick buck? Do they want to encourage the emergence of a whole new class of ambulance chasers, looking anywhere and everywhere for "abettors" to sue?
We will find out the answers to at least some of these questions sometime today. (Z)
Last week, the Supreme Court struck down eviction moratorium v2.0, which means that many Americans who are now in arrears on their rent/mortgage are at the mercy of their landowner/mortgage holder. Yesterday, Goldman Sachs put a number on the problem, estimating that between 2.5 million and 3.5 million American households are behind on rent, and that 750,000 households could be forced out of their homes by the end of the year. That tracks pretty closely with estimates from the U.S. Census Bureau last week.
Inasmuch as Joe Biden has taken his best shot, and was smacked down by the Supreme Court, there would appear to be just three ways forward left:
It is hard to imagine that the politicians, on either side of the aisle, will allow this to happen. Both out of fear of blowback, and also out of whatever humanity they might have within them. On the other hand, the power of positive incompetence and of the desire to "own the libs" are very strong, so we just don't know. (Z)
The headline of this piece by Jeremy Stahl wonders "Why Aren't Democrats Talking About the Worst Possible Outcome of the California Recall?" He is speaking, of course, of a situation in which Gov. Gavin Newsom (D-CA) is recalled, then Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-CA) dies or is compelled to resign, thus handing her seat to an appointee of (presumably) Larry Elder, and turning control of the Senate over to the Republicans.
Stahl's Twitter bio says he lives in Los Angeles, so we're not sure why he says that Democrats are not talking about this issue. Maybe he wears his AirPods too much. In any event, the truth is that many people are talking about this, to the point that we've written about it several times. But talk doesn't matter much, all that matters is what Feinstein thinks. And she thinks that the recall has nothing to do with her, and that she wants to keep her seat. So, she has no intention of resigning.
People may not like it, but she's earned the right to depart office on her terms, by virtue of having won a 6-year term. And we actually have a different question we are wondering about: Why isn't the California legislature working to change the rules for senatorial replacements? They could adopt a model where the governor can choose only from a list compiled by the departed senator's party (like, say, in North Carolina). Or they could just speed up the timeline for the special election (like, say, in Massachusetts).
There's an argument that the legislature can't change the rules without going through the ballot initiative process, but it's not a great argument. Further, if they just do it, then it will take time to work out any lawsuits. By then, the clock will have run, and the normally scheduled special election would be upon us.
The legislature likely won't move right now, for fear of signaling that Newsom might lose. But after he is recalled, if he indeed is? It wouldn't be surprising for them to take action. (Z) actually sent a message to the state Representative and state Senator who represent him; we will report back if and when they reply. In the interim, Feinstein's status, not to mention the possibility of "Governor Larry Elder," will serve to keep many Democratic voters in line behind Newsom, for fear that voting to recall him and replace him with some other Democrat could turn disastrous. It could also motivate some Democrats to actually fill out their ballots and drop them in the mail, rather than the trash. That is what the Governor really needs. (Z)
Rep. Madison Cawthorn (R-NC) spoke at yet another conservative complaint-a-ganza this weekend. And he crossed a line, even by his standards. Although he said in January that Joe Biden won the election fairly, he has "revised" his thinking after seeing how the political winds were blowing, and is now an outspoken stop the steal-er. During his speech on Sunday, he got into quite a...groove, we guess, and declared: "And I will tell you, as much as I am willing to defend our liberty at all costs, there's nothing that I would dread doing more than having to pick up arms against a fellow American. And the way that we can have recourse against that is if we all passionately demand that we have election security in all 50 states."
Afterward, a Cawthorn spokesperson explained that the Representative wasn't arguing for violence, he was explaining how much he hopes to avoid violence. Sure, right. What Cawthorn quite clearly argued, and what the crowd quite clearly understood, was that if another election is "stolen," then violence is an appropriate response. And since "our guy lost" is regarded as prima facie evidence of a stolen election, it means that "if our guy loses, then we need to get violent."
Cawthorn is one of a cadre of absolutely reprehensible House members who are willing to say whatever it takes to get the base fired up, regardless of how harmful it is to people or to the American democracy as a whole. These folks—and everyone knows who they are—have been enabled by a fawning media, colleagues that do not hold them accountable, and a president/former president who leads the way in saying such things.
What this is, then, is yet another object lesson in why the 1/6 commission has to do its job, do it well, and hit back hard against these fascist-adjacent (or is it just fascist?) folks. It's one thing to disagree with your opposition; that's what democracy is built upon. It's another thing entirely to be willing (or, at least, to say you're willing) to tear the whole thing down if you don't get what you want.
Meanwhile, most of the real nutters are in districts so safe that even Roy Moore could be elected in them. By contrast, Cawthorn's district, NC-14, is currently R+9. That puts him in a strong position, yes, but it does not make him invulnerable. And what if the new North Carolina maps, whenever they are completed (don't hold your breath) shave a few points off of that? Could be that Cawthorn gets just a little too hot for the good people of NC-14 to handle. (Z)
When (Z) was an undergrad, one of his professors pointed out that when the Charles Manson case was tried, there were over 400 pieces of evidence suggesting that he was innocent of all charges. However, there were also 1,700 pieces of evidence pointing to his guilt. And so, he was sent to the crowbar hotel, where he spent the rest of his days. The obvious lesson here is that the evidence for something is never, ever 100% in one direction, even if it's the correct direction.
Robert F. Kennedy's assassination has been in the news recently, in view of his assassin Sirhan Sirhan being tentatively approved for parole (something Gavin Newsom would have to approve in order for him to actually be released). A few readers wrote in and suggested it would be helpful to talk about the RFK assassination theories, since RFK Jr. is a believer, and thus supports Sirhan's release. We think there's some utility in that, and so away we go.
To start with, there are two rather difficult facts that the conspiracy theorists have to overcome. The first is that Sirhan was present at the death of RFK, with a gun he fired eight times. In other words, he is clearly guilty of something. Second, he was put on trial, and during that trial admitted to the shooting. Not too easy to conspiratorially theorize your way around these two things.
Nonetheless, the conspiracists are nothing, if not creative. The theories about RFK are actually very similar to those about his brother's death. That is to say, they posit that there was a second shooter, and their evidence for this is almost entirely based on guns and gunshots. In RFK's case, there are basically three key "proofs" that Sirhan did not act alone:
You'll note that we have "FEAR" capitalized in the headline. That is because it is an acronym for "False Evidence Appearing Real." And all three of these are good examples of that particular phenomenon. To wit:
Anyhow, this is how it works with conspiracy theories. You start with the things that do not add up perfectly (because again, nothing ever adds up perfectly). Then you add in stuff that seems scientific and rigorous, and appears to come from experts. If you can wait 20-40 years, until all the actual witnesses are dead or are left with distant memories, all the better.
The RFK conspiracy theorists also have to stand on their heads to deal with some of the problems in their "understanding" of what happened. There is, for example, the small issue that Sirhan confessed to the crime. The "explanation" there is that he was coerced, so as to avoid the death penalty. Another problem is that there's no great explanation for how a second person could have pulled a gun, fired it five times, put it away, and got away without being noticed by anyone on the scene. There are a few answers to that problem (like, for example, it was one of RFK's bodyguards), but they tend to be rather far removed from reality. And that's before we get into the folks who think that Sirhan definitely did it, but he's innocent because he was a Manchurian-candidate type, programmed by the USSR/CIA/Johnson White House/Mafia/Cubans/Canadians to kill Kennedy.
The ultimate point is this: The RFK conspiracy theory, like most conspiracy theories that achieve wide circulation, is an excellent example of the selective (and somewhat dishonest) use of evidence. Tomorrow, we will discuss a second example, one that is from the present day, but isn't a conspiracy. At least, it's not a conspiracy...yet. (Z)