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When Harumichi Shibasaki took to YouTube to share his skills as a painter and art teacher three years ago, he had no idea he was about to become an online sensation. Neither did his son, who had suggested his rather offline father take up a new challenge as he turned 70. But while many people liked the Japanese artist’s work, what really resonated, particularly as COVID-19 struck, was his gift of imperturbable joy.
Today, some 700,000 global subscribers track Mr. Shibasaki’s cheerful observations (with English subtitles) about helping colors work together and how autumn trees move the soul. Others follow him on Instagram and Facebook. And don’t forget TikTok, where many of his 300,000 younger enthusiasts ask him to be their grandpa.
The foundation is laid as he starts each lesson with a gentle “I’m Shibasaki.”
“Though I do not understand your language, I find it very soothing,” writes a fan in Malta. A Korean viewer tells him he helps her dream amid the pandemic. Others speak of finding “the power to live today” and “forgetting my pain.”
Mr. Shibasaki, who now does most of his own video work and navigates social media with ease, says the response has changed his mission. “I realized there are more people who say their hearts were healed, [or] they were energized by watching my video, than those who just desire to be good at painting,” he told CNN. “I hope to play a role … in healing people’s hearts.”
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A Texas lawsuit aimed at invalidating several states' presidential results could be classified as simply hardball politics. But many say it is flatly anti-democratic.
President Donald Trump’s continued false insistence that he is the rightful winner of the 2020 election is culminating six weeks after Election Day with a widespread Republican embrace of an audacious legal effort to invalidate the votes of entire states – an attempt which, if successful, would inflict grievous damage on American democracy itself.
The mere fact that the attorneys general of Texas and 17 other GOP-led states, almost two-thirds of House Republicans, and the president have signed on to such a lawsuit calls into question the Republican Party’s very commitment to democratic principles, say critics of the effort, filed by the state of Texas to the Supreme Court.
Republicans may feel free to get behind the suit due in part to its inherent legal weakness – many experts believe it will be quickly dismissed. But the whole thing is an exercise in hardball politics that is eroding centuries-old norms and destabilizing the core rhythm of mature democracy, in which parties accept losing in the knowledge that they will soon have a fair chance to compete to win again.
“It is disheartening to see so many Republican AGs and members of Congress supporting this lawsuit, which is antidemocratic and further undermines support for the rule of law,” says Rick Hasen, a law professor and author of “Election Meltdown.”
Update: The United States Supreme Court has rejected Texas’ attempt to throw out the presidential results in four other states, saying that it lacked standing and “has not demonstrated a judicially cognizable interest in the manner in which another State conducts its elections.” Justices Thomas and Alito said they would have allowed Texas to file, but “would not grant other relief.”
President Donald Trump’s continued false insistence that he is the rightful winner of the 2020 election is culminating six weeks after Election Day with a widespread Republican embrace of an audacious legal effort to invalidate the votes of entire states and mandate a Trump victory – an attempt which, if successful, would inflict grievous damage on American democracy itself.
The mere fact that the attorneys general of Texas and 17 other GOP-led states, a majority of House Republicans, and the president have signed on to such a lawsuit calls into question the Republican Party’s very commitment to democratic principles, say critics of the effort, filed by the state of Texas directly to the Supreme Court.
Republicans may feel free to get behind the suit due in part to its inherent legal weakness – many experts believe the case will be quickly dismissed. But even if that occurs, experts say the whole thing is an exercise in hardball politics that is eroding centuries-old norms and destabilizing the core rhythm of mature democracy, in which parties accept losing in the knowledge that they will soon have a fair chance to compete to win again.
“It is disheartening to see so many Republican AGs and members of Congress supporting this lawsuit, which is antidemocratic and further undermines support for the rule of law,” says Rick Hasen, a law professor at the University of California, Irvine and author of “Election Meltdown,” in an email.
The insistence that Mr. Trump actually won an election he clearly lost is reminiscent of the old Trump-pushed falsehood that Barack Obama was ineligible to be president because he was born in Kenya, Professor Hasen adds.
“I see a direct line from Birtherism to this Election Trutherism,” he says.
The unusual lawsuit in question was filed by Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton – who is besieged by charges of corruption and other bad actions in his state – against Michigan, Georgia, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. It demands that the high court invalidate these states’ collective 62 Electoral College votes, all of which went for President-elect Joe Biden.
To make its case, the lawsuit repeats some of the same false or unproven claims about voter fraud used in dozens of previous failed state suits filed by the Trump campaign and its allies since Nov. 3. It uses a flawed “statistical analysis” widely questioned by experts that purports to prove that it was mathematically impossible for Mr. Biden to win the target states. It also charges that changes in state voting procedures made months prior to November’s vote and meant to ease an election held during an unprecedented pandemic are unconstitutional.
In recent days, the Texas lawsuit has become something of a “conservative litmus test,” in the words of The Associated Press, as Republicans rush to prove fealty to a president who looks likely to keep his grip on the party even after he leaves the White House. By Friday afternoon, some 126 GOP House members, including House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy, and multiple states’ attorneys general had signed onto the case by joining amicus curiae briefs.
Fear of Mr. Trump’s wrath and the Twitter attacks and possible primary challenges it can bring is one reason for this rush.
“There’s one set who see their lives passing before their eyes when they even think about bucking the leader,” says Susan Stokes, director of the Chicago Center on Democracy at the University of Chicago.
Grassroots pressure is another. Some 77% of GOP voters say they believe there was widespread voter fraud during the election, according to a new Quinnipiac poll. Those views, of course, have been directly shaped by the president’s baseless accusations that the election was “rigged” – accusations that many members of his party have been reluctant to dispute, despite having no significant factual or legal support.
Some Trumpian true believers embrace the president’s anti-democratic moves or benefit politically from the Trump party juggernaut, and want to keep it rolling.
“But I don’t believe that many of them think that there’s any legal grounds to this case,” says Professor Stokes.
For one thing, the suit was filed very late. It came not only after Election Day, but after target states had certified their election results, and after the “safe harbor” date when Congress has ruled states should have settled any internal election disputes.
Texas may also simply lack standing to sue. It’s hard to see how the election results in another state directly affect Texans, say legal analysts, especially since the Constitution empowers each state to set its own election procedures. In any case, the Supreme Court generally only hears state versus state suits in instances of genuine interstate conflict, such as disputes over water rights.
Under the novel legal theory Texas is using, New York and California, say, could sue Texas on grounds their citizens are hurt by relatively lax Texas gun control laws, says James Gardner, a professor at the University at Buffalo School of Law and an expert in election law.
“There’s a name in our system for that phenomenon, when states pass their own laws to govern their own people. It’s called federalism,” says Professor Gardner.
Legal experts contacted for this story all said their general expectation is that the Supreme Court will dismiss the lawsuit without an opinion.
One wrinkle is that Justices Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito have in the past written opinions holding that the high court does not have the discretion to decline state versus state cases.
“They believe the court is compelled to take these cases. So they might write something very short that the court shouldn’t dismiss this on a discretionary basis,” says Derek Muller, a professor at the University of Iowa College of Law and an expert in election law.
Target states have responded to the Texas suit with anger and disbelief. In their view, a fellow state is ginning up excuses to try to disenfranchise millions of Pennsylvanians, Michiganders, Georgians, and Wisconsinites.
“The court should not abide this seditious abuse of the judicial process,” said the beginning of the Pennsylvania brief in the case.
Some Republicans have spoken out against the effort, from Sen. Mitt Romney, who called it “madness,” to Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp, whose state went to Mr. Biden and is a lawsuit target. Governor Kemp has said to the GOP-controlled Georgia state legislature that picking pro-Trump Electoral College electors is “not an option.”
The problem that worries opponents the most is not the lawsuit per se but its aftereffects, even if dismissed. The specter of one of America’s political parties rallying enthusiastically around a flimsy effort to reverse the results of a presidential election seems a nightmare, something that happens in authoritarian countries. It implies that only a Republican can legitimately sit in the White House.
“That undermines the faith in our democratic system,” says Michael McDonald, an elections expert at the University of Florida who runs the U.S. Elections Project. “Our democracy is based on – or, any democracy is based on – the fact that there’s a peaceful transition of power, that the losing side accepts those results.”
But ideally, democracy is a game with an infinite number of rounds, in which both sides agree on the rules. They accept losses because they know the game’s not over. They’ll have a chance in the future to win back the power they’ve lost.
Republicans who have backed the Texas lawsuit may see it as doing what their voters want, and believe it is essentially costless, given that the chances of it actually resulting in a second term for Mr. Trump are extremely low.
But they’re overturning democracy’s metaphorical game board, in the view of Geoffrey Kabaservice, director of political studies at the Niskanen Center, a libertarian think tank. He thinks they won’t have credibility in the future to stand as democracy’s defenders.
“Not only is [the lawsuit] a document that actually calls for the disenfranchisement of millions of fellow Americans, but it’s premised on this idea that Democrats cannot be trusted in power, that Democrats are in fact the enemy that has to be defeated at all costs,” says Mr. Kabaservice.
It remains possible that the emotions engendered by the unique 2020 election cool in future years on both sides of the political spectrum, and what seems dangerous to democracy today will seem in retrospect a much smaller event.
The many Republican voters now expressing doubts in the election’s validity may simply be venting frustration that their candidate lost. Once Mr. Trump is out of the Oval Office the whole thing could seem less important.
Or, out of power, Mr. Trump might continue to use allegations of fraud and a stolen election to keep his base loyal and fired up – and keep politically disillusioned non-Trump voters on the sidelines, believing that American politics is a sham.
“You have some people who believe the lie” about the election bring rife with fraud, says Myrna Pérez, director of the Voting Rights and Elections Program at the Brennan Center for Justice. “And then you have some people who don’t believe it, but are so disgusted that our politicians are behaving this way that they’re just skeptical of the entire process, and I actually think the last group of people are being targeted intentionally.”
President-elect Biden says he’ll reprioritize human rights in the Middle East. But Saudi Arabia and Egypt seem unconcerned. That could be rooted in four years of unconditional support, and expectations it will be hard to reverse.
With their biggest ally, President Donald Trump, leaving the White House, Egypt and Saudi Arabia are doubling down on internal crackdowns, intensifying arrests of rights activists and political dissidents. It’s a signal to the Biden administration that it faces hard bargaining and a collision course with Arab allies who have grown accustomed to unconditional support.
A release by Cairo of 600 political prisoners in November raised hopes Egypt was prepared to loosen its autocratic grip to maintain good relations with the White House. But those hopes were upended when Egypt arrested members of the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights, one of the last remaining rights organizations in the country, days after the organization met with Western diplomats.
Saudi Arabia, meanwhile, has shown little willingness to build good ties with the Biden administration or with either party in Congress.
“The Saudis are belatedly realizing they have a problem and that a much more difficult time is coming,” says Bruce Riedel at the Brookings Institution. “The Saudi response is not, ‘How do we change our profile to accommodate Biden?’ It is more, ‘How do we hunker down in the bunker and tough it out?’”
With an incoming U.S. administration promising drastic changes to Mideast policy, putting human rights at the forefront, expectations have risen among observers and even U.S. diplomats that America’s Arab allies will adjust to prevent a clash with Washington.
Yet goodwill gestures from Saudi Arabia and Egypt have not arrived. Instead, Riyadh and Cairo are doubling down on their internal crackdowns, perhaps betting that shared security interests will prevail in any Washington assessment of its policies in the region.
With their biggest ally, President Donald Trump, leaving the White House, Cairo and Riyadh are intensifying arrests of rights activists and political dissidents. It’s a signal to the Biden administration that it faces hard bargaining and a collision course with Arab allies who have grown accustomed to unconditional support.
Egypt’s arrest of activists “is an implicit message from the regime to the international community, especially the Biden administration, that ‘we have hostages inside Egypt that you care about, therefore you have to put it in your mind that while we can release some, we can still arrest others,’” says Ahmed Mefreh, an Egyptian human rights lawyer and director of the Geneva-based Committee for Justice (CFJ), in an email interview.
With President-elect Joe Biden’s win and increased scrutiny over Saudi Arabia’s human rights record, many believed the timing was right for Riyadh to use its hosting of the G-20 Summit in November as an occasion to release jailed women activists.
The gesture, which would come at no political cost for Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, would help repair relations in Washington and in European capitals, where the Saudi royal has become persona non grata.
Instead, Saudi Arabia referred women activists to a terrorism court and added “communicating with foreign powers” and passing on “classified information” to the charges facing hunger-striking activist Loujain al-Hathloul.
In interviews, Saudi Foreign Minister Faisal bin Furhan said “we don’t look at international pressures on these … domestic issues of our national security.”
Likewise, there were mixed signals from Egypt, whose authoritarian president, Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, Mr. Trump famously referred to as “my favorite dictator.”
A release by Cairo of 600 political prisoners in November and the subsequent hiring of a Washington lobbying firm headed by the former chief of staff to Nancy Pelosi, raised hopes that Egypt was prepared to loosen its autocratic grip and reinvent itself to maintain good relations with the White House.
Those hopes were upended when Egypt arrested members of the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights (EIPR), one of the last remaining rights organizations in the country, days after the organization met with Western diplomats.
The arrests prompted secretary of state nominee Antony Blinken to express his “concern re: Egypt arrests,” on Twitter, stressing that “meeting with foreign diplomats is not a crime. Nor is peacefully advocating for human rights.”
Although the EIPR staff were released from prison weeks later amid unprecedented international pressure and Western media campaigns, the organization and its staff still face legal action, its assets frozen.
“The regime has given mixed signals since the time of the U.S. elections,” says Timothy Kaldas, a fellow at the nonpartisan, Washington-based Tahrir Institute for Mideast Policy, noting that Cairo is still struggling to determine the best way to respond to Mr. Trump’s departure.
“It is possible there are internal tensions on how to handle things, and these tensions are spilling over on how to deal with” Egypt’s last remaining outlets for dissent, he says. “Testing the resolve of the incoming administration was a bad start.”
Human rights observers say Cairo is likely intensifying its jailing of civil society activists to hold additional bargaining chips in its negotiations with the incoming Biden administration.
By holding prominent activists whom the international community relies on, Cairo can offer to release them when faced with pressure from the West, and avoid making legal and policy reform that would open up civil society and political life, observers say.
Saudi Arabia, meanwhile, has shown little willingness to build good ties with the Biden administration or with either party in Congress now that their protector is leaving office.
“The Saudis are belatedly realizing they have a problem and that a much more difficult time is coming,” says Bruce Riedel, senior fellow at the Brookings Institution and an expert on the U.S.-Saudi relationship. Riyadh had bet heavily that Mr. Trump could still pull off an electoral win.
“The Saudi response is not, ‘How do we change our profile to accommodate Biden?’ It is more, ‘How do we hunker down in the bunker and tough it out?’”
Saudi Arabia’s refusal to accommodate President-elect Biden, who has vowed to treat it as a “pariah,” stems from a belief that the rift between mainstream players and institutions in Washington and Riyadh runs so deep, a change in human rights policy will not improve relations.
“This is due to the fact that the real problem between the U.S. and Saudi is not a policy difference – although there are policy differences,” says Mr. Riedel. “The real problem is the crown prince. He knows that, and there is very little room for a solution to this fundamental problem.”
The killing of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, the brash targeting of rivals within Saudi and abroad, and a war in Yemen that has become the biggest humanitarian disaster in the world have cost the crown prince on both sides of the aisle.
Also harming ties is Riyadh’s apparent intent to rush through a prosecution of detained former crown prince and interior minister Muhammad bin Nayef, a rival to MBS and counterterrorism czar who was a key ally in America’s fight against Al Qaeda.
Prince Muhammad is held in high regard by U.S. intelligence, national security communities, and Congress. Washington is concerned over the deteriorating health of the prince, who had worked closely with then-Vice President Biden during the Obama administration.
In what may be a preview of more hostile Saudi rhetoric toward a Biden White House, pro-Saudi Twitter bots continue to accuse Prince Muhammad of a plot backed by Democrats and the “deep state” to overthrow the ruling family.
The question remains how far the Biden administration is willing to push leaders in both countries.
By intensifying their crackdowns, the Egyptian and Saudi governments are hedging their bets that Mr. Biden, like President Barack Obama before him, will be reluctant to push too far on human rights, particularly at a time the U.S. faces crises at home and is attempting to rebuild alliances and multilateralism abroad.
“The rhetoric of the Biden administration-elect is certainly far more emphatic about human rights than the Trump administration,” H.A. Hellyer, a senior nonresident scholar at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, says via email. “But that doesn’t mean policies from the administration are going to be all that different, or that much more difficult for Cairo and Riyadh to maneuver around.”
Historically, human rights have barely factored into joint relationships built around a nexus of shared interests of regional stability, security, counter-terrorism, trade, and arms sales.
“Egypt presumes that fact that U.S. assistance is unaffected by the rights issue reflects that it is not a priority for the U.S.,” says Mr. Kaldas at the Tahrir Institute. “They think it is an image problem rather than a policy problem, because American behavior enforces that conclusion.”
The crackdowns are also fueled by an overestimation in Egypt and Saudi Arabia of their strategic importance to America in 2021, analysts say. Alliances hailed by the two countries were cemented during the Cold War when access to oil, Israel’s security, and countering Soviet influence were the priorities of American Mideast policy – most of which are now secure or moot.
Observers and diplomats say the Biden administration maintains leverage, such as the $1.3 billion in annual U.S. aid to Egypt, arms sales to Saudi Arabia, and spare parts and expertise required to maintain the American-made Saudi defense systems and air force.
While Egypt is more open to discuss the human rights file as part of wider negotiations over its relationship with the U.S., for Saudi Arabia it remains a “closed subject,” Gulf insiders say.
Says a Gulf source of Riyadh’s thinking: “Administrations come and go, but a royal family stays; America will turn around first.”
France has a history of human rights that stretches back centuries. But recent accusations of systemic racism and police brutality suggest that there’s a disconnect between the country’s stated value and its reality.
France has a historical legacy of promoting and protecting human rights, and has numerous mechanisms in place to that effect. But that legacy has come under increased scrutiny in recent weeks.
In late November, citizens captured video of Paris police violently removing homeless migrants from the central République square. Days later, police officers were caught on security cameras beating up a music producer for supposedly not wearing a face mask.
At the same time, the government put forward a controversial bill that would have punished those who film police with malicious intent. That triggered mass protests, which caused the government to backtrack and promise to rewrite the bill.
Despite the bill’s withdrawal, the vision of France as a human rights defender increasingly belies reality. Now advocates hope the state will use the pause to recalibrate, in order to be the human rights model it claims to be.
“France has the objective of becoming a human rights leader, but there is a big difference between that idea and reality,” says sociologist Marie-Hélène Bacqué. “And because it calls itself a human rights leader, every time the French state does something that goes against human rights, the gap appears even wider.”
When Dieu Pabu Mpenyi has been stopped by police in the past, it’s usually at night, while he’s walking home from basketball practice, his slick jeans swapped for sweatpants, with friends or alone.
“They see a Black man walking around at night, they automatically think I’m going to be aggressive,” says Mr. Pabu Mpenyi, who lives in the Paris suburb of Villepinte.
At just 17, he’s had enough interactions with police to know that he needs to keep copies of his identity card on his phone and to remain calm, even arrogant, in order to show he’s not afraid. But he knows such interactions can quickly escalate. His older brother already landed in police custody for an incident in which he wasn’t even present.
“Those moments with police traumatized me and I’m scared for my brothers,” says Mr. Pabu Mpenyi, a middle child of 12, whose parents came to France from Angola in 2002. “What scares me the most is when there are no cameras, the police can say what they want behind your back and you have no defense.”
The question of how images of police incidents are used in France has been the subject of wide debate in recent weeks. In late November, citizens captured video of Paris police violently removing homeless migrants from the central République square, using tear gas and batons. Days later, four police officers were caught on security cameras beating up music producer Michel Zecler as he left his studio, for supposedly not wearing a face mask.
Protests have rocked the nation for the last two weekends, as hundreds of thousands called on the government to crack down on police brutality and put an end to a controversial national security bill that would have punished those who film police with malicious intent. The government has since backtracked and promised to rewrite the bill.
France has a historical legacy of promoting and protecting human rights, and has numerous mechanisms in place to that effect. But as citizens continue to film instances of police brutality, the vision of France as a human rights defender increasingly belies reality. Now advocates hope the state will use the pause to recalibrate, in order to be the human rights model it claims to be.
“France has the objective of becoming a human rights leader, but there is a big difference between that idea and reality,” says Marie-Hélène Bacqué, a professor of sociology and urban studies at Paris Nanterre University. “And because it calls itself a human rights leader, every time the French state does something that goes against human rights, the gap appears even wider.”
The Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, signed in 1789 during the French Revolution, has set popular conceptions of individual liberties across the world. The framing of France as “the country of human rights” has often been used by the state to promote itself, and by the public to criticize the government.
But while the state actively supports several United Nations and European Union resolutions on human rights, poverty, and the elimination of religious discrimination, some experts question whether the concept of France as a human rights leader is outdated and elitist.
The country has yet to fully come to terms with its colonial past, though President Emmanuel Macron is the first French president to call it a “crime against humanity.” And France continues to struggle to provide the same opportunities to its racial minority groups, particularly from North Africa. A 1950s housing policy for temporary immigrants, which segregated many North Africans into city outskirts, created inequalities still felt by immigrant groups and their descendants today.
In a 2016 study of 20,000 people by the French Institute for Demographic Studies, immigrants of African origin – many of whom were naturalized citizens – said that even if they felt French, they didn’t feel perceived as French by others. Separate studies have shown that visible minorities are more likely to experience discrimination in the job and housing markets.
France’s promotion of secularism, or laïcité, adds an extra layer to the discrimination they experience, as many feel unfairly targeted by the law, including a new bill against Islamist separatism. But because France does not allow for census data based on ethnicity or religion, it has been hard for the state to fully grasp the depth of discrimination some face. It’s been even harder to implement policies to address any subsequent inequalities.
Racial discrimination within the French police force has only added flames to the fire. Sebastian Roché, a sociologist who studies police and security at the French National Center for Scientific Research, has led a series of studies in the past decade on the relationship between police and minorities, especially youth. All have shown that police were more likely to discriminate against young people based on skin color.
“The authorities try to minimize things, to say this is a problem of a few individuals,” says Mr. Roché. “But studies show that there is a systemic problem with racism and violence in the French police.”
Piroo, a Tunisian-Frenchman from the suburb of Sartrouville who goes by an assumed name to protect his privacy, has had numerous interactions with French police growing up. He’s been beaten up, tear-gassed, and insulted with the worst racial slurs. Once, after a simple identity card check went awry, he and his friends were driven out to a nearby forest in a squad car, dropped in the woods, and told to find their way home.
These types of incidents, says Piroo, who now runs a nonprofit to engage young people from the Paris suburbs in community projects, create a sense of alienation for youth, who are often second-generation French and already questioning their sense of belonging and identity.
“Those physical bruises [by police] go away, but the bruises to your sense of self stay with you for a long time,” he says. “If you’re young and already lost, you might start thinking, why do I live in a country that doesn’t want me? Why did my parents bring me here? And some will answer violence with violence.”
Race-related police brutality may be getting the French public’s attention, but the country has experienced a broader level of police violence in the last few years that has thrown a spotlight on its record as a human rights defender.
France’s IGPN police watchdog registered more than 300 complaints of police abuse related to the yellow vest protest movement last year. Experts say the level of injuries and deaths during the movement’s December 2018 to May 2019 height – 30 mutilations and two deaths – are the most tied to a prolonged protest since the May 1968 unrest, which upended the nation.
That’s partly due to how French police are now armed. Over the last decade, municipal police have more generally utilized rubber bullets and grenades to maintain order. In addition, plainclothes officers have joined public order operations and are equipped with similar weaponry.
This, along with the separatism and national security bills – even if the latter is set to be rewritten – has been labeled by the president’s critics as a move toward a more repressive leadership, which employs policies that go against the basic French values of liberty, fraternity, equality, and laïcité.
Amid back-to-back weekends of protests, Mr. Macron addressed the media about the public’s concerns. He said the government would create a platform for citizens to report discrimination in January, and told children born to immigrant parents that “their history was part of [France’s] history.” He said that citizens would continue to have the right to film police, and is planning a summit next month to help build trust between citizens and police.
The French president has indicated he has the political will to address the recent episodes of racism in France. But experts say the country’s problems with inequality are systemic, and solutions won’t come overnight.
“Mr. Macron has a very theoretical vision of racism that does not relate to reality of society,” says Jean-François Leguil Bayart, a professor of anthropology and sociology at the Graduate Institute in Geneva. “When it comes to the actual level of discrimination, the French government is in total denial.”
Atlanta’s Ebenezer Baptist Church, where MLK preached, has come under threat as “radical” during the Georgia Senate runoff race. This essay says its storied history is in fact a triumph of community and conviction.
The Rev. Raphael Warnock, a Baptist pastor, has been pegged as “anti-American” for his political views in the face of a hotly contested Senate race in Georgia, and Atlanta’s Ebenezer Baptist Church, where both he and the Rev. Martin Luther King preached, has been tagged as “radical.”
The church, with a name that means “stone of help,” was founded in 1886 by a freedman, John A. Parker. Imagine the challenges that come with founding a church in the midst of race-related violence and the genesis of Jim Crow, and the conviction that it would take to do so. In Ebenezer’s case, it took the courage of a man born into – and emancipated from – slavery to accomplish the task.
Ebenezer’s history and commentaries suggest that it is a “radical” church, but not in the sense that the GOP suggests. Ebenezer is radical in its sense of survival. It has seen the viciousness of Jim Crow. It has seen its native son assassinated. It has held the funerals of King, John Lewis, and Rayshard Brooks.
Society commonly describes a church as a place – a location of worship. The Christian Bible describes it as something more. “Church” or its translation in the Greek, ecclesia, denotes a group of believers.
Whichever definition one prefers, in the case of Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, its place in history is secure.
It’s in this place where we find the Rev. Raphael Warnock, who has been pegged as “anti-American” for his political views in the face of a hotly contested Senate race in Georgia.
In recent weeks, Mr. Warnock has come under fire from his opponent, Sen. Kelly Loeffler, and the Republican Party for what they deem to be “radical” comments that he made in Ebenezer’s pulpit in 2011: “America, nobody can serve God and the military. You can’t serve God and money. You cannot serve God and mammon at the same time,” he said, invoking Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. “America, choose ye this day whom you will serve. Choose ye this day.”
Both the church and Mr. Warnock have faced racist and threatening calls ahead of the Senate runoffs Jan. 5., the church said in a statement.
Such a designation for Mr. Warnock, Ebenezer’s current pastor, is as ironic as it is untrue – and not unprecedented when it comes to prior Ebenezer pastors. One year before his assassination, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. offered a commentary in New York City titled “Beyond Vietnam.” Like Mr. Warnock, he would be strongly criticized and rebuked for his message:
... As I have walked among the desperate, rejected, and angry young men, I have told them that Molotov cocktails and rifles would not solve their problems. I have tried to offer them my deepest compassion while maintaining my conviction that social change comes most meaningfully through nonviolent action. But they asked, and rightly so, “What about Vietnam?” They asked if our own nation wasn’t using massive doses of violence to solve its problems, to bring about the changes it wanted. Their questions hit home, and I knew that I could never again raise my voice against the violence of the oppressed in the ghettos without having first spoken clearly to the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today: my own government. For the sake of those boys, for the sake of this government, for the sake of the hundreds of thousands trembling under our violence, I cannot be silent.
... Now it should be incandescently clear that no one who has any concern for the integrity and life of America today can ignore the present war. If America’s soul becomes totally poisoned, part of the autopsy must read “Vietnam.” It can never be saved so long as it destroys the deepest hopes of men the world over.
It is in these moments of expression – of freedom – that we not only see the legacy of outspoken Kings. We also see the legacy of “America’s Freedom Church.”
The church, with a name that means “stone of help,” was founded in 1886 by a freedman, John A. Parker, less than a decade after the end of Reconstruction. Imagine the challenges that come with founding a church in the midst of race-related violence and the genesis of Jim Crow, and the conviction that it would take to do so. In Ebenezer’s case, it took the courage of a man born into – and emancipated from – slavery to accomplish the task.
When Parker died in 1894, Alfred Daniel Williams became the church’s pastor. It was under Williams’ leadership that Ebenezer grew in membership and stature, and also during that time when it found a familiar home on the corner of Auburn Avenue and Jackson Street.
Who could have known the power of the Williams’ lineage at that time? Who could have known that the next two pastors – Williams’ son-in-law, the Rev. Martin Luther King Sr., and Williams’ grandson, Martin Luther King Jr. – would not only make the King name a household name, but also the church’s name as well?
Ebenezer’s history is a triumph of community and conviction. Mr. Warnock explores the duality and responsibility of the Black church in an excerpt from his 2014 book, “The Divided Mind of the Black Church”:
What is the true nature and mission of the church? As a community formed in memory of Jesus Christ and informed by the gospels, what is that makes it a faithful and authentic witness, and what exactly is it called to do? Indeed, all Christian communities must ask and try to answer that question. ... The question has itself a distinctive resonance when the church is one built by slaves and formed, from its beginning, at the center of an oppressed community’s fight for personhood and freedom. That is the history of the Black church in America and the theological prism through which any authentic inquiry into its essential mission must be raised.
He continues with an excerpt that reads like prophecy:
In important ways, it is this enduring concern for the relationship between black religion and black resistance – piety and public witness – that helps to account for the origins and development of black theology. From the very moment of its emergency from the fiery tumult of riot-torn cities and heated national debate regarding the meaning of a new and rising black consciousness, captured in the expression “black power,” black theology has been careful to situate its own self-understanding within the larger historical narrative of black religion and black resistance.
Ebenezer’s history and commentaries suggest that it is a “radical” church, but not in the sense that Senator Loeffler and the GOP suggest. Ebenezer is radical in its sense of survival. It has seen the viciousness of Jim Crow. It has seen its native son assassinated. It has housed the funerals of King, John Lewis, and Rayshard Brooks.
And yet, it is renewed – and not just because of the work of the National Park Service. It is renewed because Ebenezer once again has met the challenge of a ministry that accepts the “double-edged sword” of theology and ideology.
Many ballet fans find comfort ushering in the holiday season with “The Nutcracker.” But in recent years, choreographers have been looking for ways to make that traditional classic feel more inclusive.
For more than 50 years “The Nutcracker” has been synonymous with Christmas. It’s a beloved holiday tradition that inspires legions of children to take up ballet.
Not all audiences have been delighted with every aspect of “The Nutcracker,” however. In recent years, many in the dance community have been asking how to reconcile this ballet that they love with the stereotypes that it has helped to perpetuate. They wonder if it is possible to transform “The Nutcracker” to remove its racial stereotypes and aristocratic origins while holding onto its traditional charms.
Choreographers are finding new ways to imagine the show so that it retains some of the tradition but feels more inclusive and authentic.
This year, though many live performances have been canceled, ballet lovers can catch a behind-the-scenes glimpse of one such reimagining.
“Dance Dreams: Hot Chocolate Nutcracker,” a documentary now streaming on Netflix, explores director Debbie Allen’s vision for the multicultural “Hot Chocolate Nutcracker.” The show is an affirmation that, in the words of dancer Wayne “Juice” Mackins, “we don’t live in a homogeneous enclave.”
For more than 50 years “The Nutcracker” has been synonymous with Christmas. Along with holiday cheer, the ballet generates anywhere from 20% to 50% of most ballet companies’ revenue. While many live performances of “The Nutcracker” have been canceled this year due to the pandemic, the classic ballet remains a beloved holiday tradition and inspires legions of children to take up ballet.
But in recent years, many in the dance community have been asking how to reconcile this ballet that they love with the stereotypes that it has helped to perpetuate. They wonder if it is possible to transform “The Nutcracker” to remove its racial stereotypes and aristocratic origins while holding onto its traditional charms. Three dance companies have answered this question with a resounding “yes,” keeping the ballet’s essence while widening its appeal to include diverse audiences. We’ll get to them shortly. But first, a little history.
“The Nutcracker,” with music by Pyotr Tchaikovsky and choreography by Marius Petipa, premiered at the Imperial Mariinsky Ballet in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 1892. It was not the huge hit that it is today. Critics assailed the production for its prominent use of children. Instead of dancers portraying royal courtiers, a nod to the imperial family and visiting dignitaries, as was customary at the time, the ballet follows the plot of a children’s story, E.T.A. Hoffmann’s “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King.” In the story, a girl named Clara (or sometimes Marie) visits an enchanted world of delicious treats accompanied by a Nutcracker prince. The ballet underwent many revisions before it eventually found lasting success in Russia.
In the United States, George Balanchine, co-founder of New York City Ballet, created his American-friendly version, based upon his memories of dancing at Mariinsky Theatre as a child. The result was a smash hit, though he continued to tinker with it throughout his life.
Balanchine’s initial version premiered on Feb. 2, 1954, at a crucial point in New York City Ballet’s history. Though the company had its passionate supporters, Kay Mazzo, a former principal ballerina and the current chairman of faculty for the company’s School of American Ballet, has recalled times when there were more people onstage than there were in the audience. Balanchine changed all of that by featuring children from the school, which drew in family members.
What proved a liability in the original Russian production became a formula for success in America. With the Dec. 25, 1958, broadcast of “The Nutcracker” on CBS, the ballet became forever associated with Christmas. It also helped establish a winning tradition across the nation that brings families together and introduces many young people to ballet.
Not all audiences have been delighted with every aspect of “The Nutcracker.” In Act 2, dancers portraying sweets from different cultures (chocolate from Spain, coffee from Arabia, tea from China) appear onstage. The traditional choreography and costumes – particularly in the Chinese section – reinforced stereotypes that are demeaning and offensive. For example, the Chinese section featured dancers in yellowface, performing inauthentic, if not mocking, gestures.
In 2017, Phil Chan, a scholar, educator, and former dancer, convinced New York City Ballet to drop the offending antics and costume pieces. For another production, at the Pacific Northwest Ballet in Seattle, he consulted with Peter Boal, the artistic director, to rethink the Chinese section.
“The original Balanchine ‘Nutcracker’ version is essentially an emasculated Chinese coolie,” Mr. Chan says. “Instead of that, Peter chose a cricket, which in Chinese culture is a symbol of spring. And just as Balanchine dancers are the most musical of ballet dancers, crickets are also the most musical of insects.”
Most importantly for Mr. Chan, it shows Chinese people that “the choreographer actually took something from my culture that was respectful, as opposed to an outdated caricature from 150 years ago.” The current costume for the cricket is still being workshopped, but for now, families can watch Pacific Northwest Ballet’s production of Balanchine’s “The Nutcracker” – without the offensive costumes and gestures – on its website: www.pnb.org/nutcracker/.
Honest representation was also on Sam Pott’s mind when he created “Jersey City Nutcracker.” The founder and director of Nimbus Dance in Jersey City, New Jersey, says, “It was important for European immigrants to have shows like ‘Nutcracker’ that connected them back to their European traditions. But sometimes that was wedded to white supremacy.” That’s why, instead of showcasing the traditional aristocratic family of the story, this version features children from different economic backgrounds traveling to “the safer and kinder Jersey City of their dreams,” he says.
This approach to the ballet was inspired by the work of children’s author Ezra Jack Keats to signal that “kids have a sense of wonder regardless of their economic circumstances,” Mr. Potts says. “Jersey City Nutcracker: The Movie” is available on demand through its website: www.nimbusdance.org.
Award-winning performer and director Debbie Allen reinforces the idea that “The Nutcracker” can be transformed to better represent and serve the community. In “Dance Dreams: Hot Chocolate Nutcracker,” a behind-the-scenes documentary now streaming on Netflix, she auditions, rehearses, and provides tough love to her multicultural cast, which includes students from Debbie Allen Dance Academy, as they prepare for performance day.
One of the dancers who got her start in Ms. Allen’s school, Kylie Jefferson, says in the documentary that she has never seen a “regular Nutcracker,” which she likes because this vision of diversity is the only life she knows.
Wayne “Juice” Mackins, who was the original Nutcracker prince in the “Hot Chocolate Nutcracker,” says in a phone interview that Ms. Allen was “focused on reflecting what life actually is because we don’t live in a homogeneous enclave.” For Mr. Mackins, this means being willing to reach out to other people and cultures rather than make assumptions. For example, Ms. Allen asks the tap dance star Savion Glover to create a dance for her “Nutcracker.” Rather than approximate her idea of what tap dance was, she went to a qualified source. That is the essential takeaway from the documentary. Rather than approximate another culture, invite people from that culture to share their input.
The hope is that these reimaginings can retain the spirit of “The Nutcracker” while bringing the community together to create something that feels more inclusive and authentic.
In the past two weeks, hundreds of thousands of Indian farmers have staged protests against three new laws aiming at ending price supports for agriculture and enabling farmers to sell crops directly to markets rather than through the government. The number of people affected by this change is huge. Nearly two-thirds of India’s 1.3 billion people depend on farming.
For many economists and political leaders, the need for the reforms is obvious. A decades-old system of price supports to ensure a minimum return for producers and low food prices for consumers is failing, leaving more than half of all farmers overburdened by debt. Yet the reforms were rushed through parliament. Farmers worry that they will be unable to compete with large commercial interests without support.
Talks between the government and farmers have yet to reach a compromise. Even so, some protesting farmers have set up kitchens to feed the police battling them. Gestures like that speak to higher motives and aims. This disruption in India could still lead to progress. But Indians, working together, may need to change how they get there.
Most societies and their leaders tend toward continuity – stable economic growth, steady foreign alliances, modest swings in policy. But the arc of progress can be punctuated by periods of disruption – whether wars, technological breakthroughs, natural disasters, or social movements. In India, which could soon have the world’s largest population, such a disruption may be afoot.
In the past two weeks, hundreds of thousands of Indian farmers have staged protests against three new laws aiming at ending price supports for agriculture and enabling farmers to sell crops directly to markets rather than through the government. The number of people affected by this change is huge. Nearly two-thirds of India’s 1.3 billion people depend on farming. Nearly 85% of farmers cultivate fields of less than five acres.
For many economists and political leaders, the need for the reforms is obvious. A decades-old system of price supports to ensure a minimum return for producers and low food prices for consumers is failing, leaving more than half of all farmers overburdened by debt. In 2018 and 2019, more than 20,000 farmers took their own lives.
When Prime Minister Narendra Modi came to power six years ago, he promised to double farmers’ income by 2022. Failing to make progress toward that goal, his government enacted the three laws in September. They argued the reforms would empower farmers and further a long-term shift from a semi-socialist economy to one of regulated free markets and high investments. Yet the reforms were rushed through parliament without much consultation. Farmers worry that they will be unable to compete with large commercial interests without support. They demand not only repeal of the laws but better crop prices, loan waivers, and new irrigation systems to cope with drought. The protesters have blocked many transportation corridors into the capital, New Delhi.
As the leader of the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party, Mr. Modi has presided over a period of divisiveness in India. Some of his reforms have disrupted both the economy and society. In 2016, for example, he tried to fight corruption by demonetizing the national currency, creating a cash crisis and long lines of panicked citizens outside banks. New laws barring interfaith marriage and excluding Muslim immigrants from neighboring countries have exacerbated class and ethnic tensions.
The farmer protests, wrote Indian journalist Barkha Dutt in The Washington Post, “are a reminder that there is a value in consensus. Even the most popular leaders sometimes need to listen to what the streets say.” Reforms are often necessary, driven by grand principles (equal justice, market economies) and urgent goals (fixing climate change or mass human displacement). But to meet the needs and aspirations that impel them, they must come with a strong measure of consensus and even kindness.
The BJP’s partner, the Sikh-dominated Shiromani Akali Dal party, has quit the ruling coalition in protest. Talks between the government and farmers have yet to reach a compromise. Even so, some protesting farmers have set up kitchens to feed the police battling them. Gestures like that speak to higher motives and aims. This disruption in India could still lead to progress. But Indians, working together, may need to change how they get there.
Each weekday, the Monitor includes one clearly labeled religious article offering spiritual insight on contemporary issues, including the news. The publication – in its various forms – is produced for anyone who cares about the progress of the human endeavor around the world and seeks news reported with compassion, intelligence, and an essentially constructive lens. For many, that caring has religious roots. For many, it does not. The Monitor has always embraced both audiences. The Monitor is owned by a church – The First Church of Christ, Scientist, in Boston – whose founder was concerned with both the state of the world and the quality of available news.
There’s a gift we can all freely give and receive that comes from the heart: unselfed love impelled by God, which uplifts and heals.
It seems as if there’s an uptick this year in humanity’s longing to see Christmas as more than transaction, more than just buying and getting. Commercialism feels particularly hollow these days, with so many unemployed or not sure they can keep their business doors open much longer. Seems as though tender, substantial heart-support would be a welcome Christmas gift for anyone this season.
So how to experience that? Mary Baker Eddy founded Christian Science to reinstate the pivotal role of spiritual healing in meeting human needs, as Jesus Christ taught and demonstrated. In a Christmas sermon in 1888, Mrs. Eddy spoke of one of the distinguishing qualities Jesus expressed in this way: “To carry out his holy purpose, he must be oblivious of human self” (“Miscellaneous Writings 1883-1896,” p. 162).
Being self-oblivious certainly runs counter to many pervasive cultural influences that focus on satisfying self. And yet we see examples of selflessness all around us: encouraging others, engaging strangers while out on a walk, forgiving without requiring an acknowledgment. These gestures are expressions of our spiritual identity. It’s living the way God, divine Love itself, created us to live – loving unselfishly.
Striving to mirror Jesus’ unselfed example has much deeper ramifications than feel-good behavior. It profoundly identifies every individual’s real nature as spiritual, as God-created and cared for, forever. It opens us up to respond to God’s perennial good for each of us – both as receivers and as givers. And as Jesus’ ministry proved, this brings about tangible healing.
Maybe being a little more “oblivious” of self isn’t impossibly idealistic after all. Maybe it signals the best Christmas gift of all: knowing God is with you. And with me. And with everyone else, too.
Some more great ideas! To read an article in The Christian Science Journal’s archives in which Monitor founder Mary Baker Eddy shares “What Christmas Means to Me,” please click through to www.JSH-Online.com. There is no paywall for this content.
Thanks for wrapping up your news week with us. On Monday, we’ll take a look at shopping. The U.S. may have hit an inflection point in the shift from local stores to online purchasing that rivals the postwar boom in shopping malls.