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With this administration, it’s another day, another unwinnable fight. All with a real war coming over the horizon.

President Trump campaigned on ending the “forever wars,” but he’s since launched two new ones: a shooting war on drugs in the Caribbean and a symbolic war on crime in America’s cities. Neither will ever end and both will tie our military down, just as the most potent threat America’s ever known is rising and readying to fight.

Let’s start with the real war. China is America’s only real competitor, an adversary far more powerful than the Soviet Union ever was. President Xi Jinping has directed his military to be able to take Taiwan by 2027, and they’re nearly set. U.S. Admiral Sam Paparo, America’s military commander in the Pacific, testified in the spring that this activity against Taiwan grew 300% in 2024. These aggressive actions, he said, are “not just exercises; they are rehearsals,” adding that “we must be ready today.” China’s recent military parade put a missile-shaped exclamation on Paparo’s point.

But America’s not preparing for real war right now. And because the world knows that America’s not preparing, America’s not deterring.

Instead we’re sending the Navy to blow up a drug dealer and deploying the National Guard to walk around Los Angeles, Washington and maybe Chicago. These distractions degrade military readiness at a time when we need all the ready we can get.

Last week, the Trump administration killed 11 people when it struck a four-engine speedboat in the southern Caribbean. The president said it was transporting drugs from Venezuela to the U.S. There’s much to consider: whether the strike was legally justified, or possibly illegal murder; or whether the administration should have notified and gotten authorization from Congress.

Setting those aside for the moment, let’s focus on whether a war on drugs in the Caribbean is a prudent use of military assets. The Pentagon sent to the region three guided-missile destroyers (around 1,000 sailors), an Amphibious Readiness Group (4,500 sailors) and a Marine Expeditionary Unit (2,200 Marines), along with surveillance planes, special forces assets, and a submarine. All to destroy a single speedboat? One that may or may not have been carrying a few kilograms of cocaine, or may have been carrying people on a human smuggling run.

Last year, just doing its job, American law enforcement seized 63 metric tons of cocaine. At that rate, the same day as the strike, we could assume that American law enforcement seized about 172 kilograms of cocaine alone, all without an additional armada.

There’s a reason we don’t use blowtorches for brain surgery and knives with soup bowls. They don’t work. Neither will sending thousands and thousands of sailors and Marines — at enormous cost in taxpayer money and troop training — to fight a second war on drugs, one boat at a time.

Consider the American military’s most recent history with drug interdiction. We wanted drug production to go down in Afghanistan, but it tripled in our two decades there. Or take it from Nixon: Wars on drugs don’t end well. Because they simply don’t end.

Neither will the new symbolic war on crime in U.S. cities. Again, costly, when one considers we already have a tool in the box for crime. The National Guard and Marine deployment to Los Angeles cost America $120 million for approximately 5,000 troops over 60 days (some 300 remain today). Washington, as a federal city, has taken on approximately half those used in California, which brings the total bill closer to $200 million for these unnecessary additional measures.

But what’s worse, far worse, is what the soldiers are doing. CNN recently reported that one soldier’s mission in Washington is to walk around Chinatown from 4 p.m. to 4 a.m. every day. Another from Mississippi said she’d been routinely cursed at. Yet another guardsman from Louisiana admitted confusion about what the military was even there to do.

The president has said he wants Chicago to be next (“Chipocalypse Now”). The city’s mayor and the governor of Illinois have stood against such a move. It appears the people of Chicago are considering even stronger opposition. This summer a research center at the University of Chicago found that 60% did not approve of the Trump administration’s immigration enforcement. It also found that 28% would “attend a protest against the Trump administration’s efforts to deport illegal immigrants, even if it became violent.”

With Chicago’s 2.5 million people, even if the survey counted too many tough talkers — if only 10% of the citizens there were willing to physically contest a deployment that was part of an immigration enforcement roundup — that’s hundreds and hundreds of thousands against handfuls of troops. Not one American soldier ever signed up to police Chicago.

Back in Washington on Friday, President Trump signed an executive order changing the Department of Defense’s title to the “Department of War” in large part because he believes it will get the country back to fighting “to win.” But when you start a new war on drugs and a new war on crime, when you send the ax instead of the scalpel — you’ll never win. You’re just signing America up for two more forever wars, two more unwinnable fights.

And the only one playing to win is Beijing.

ML Cavanaugh is the author of the forthcoming book “Best Scar Wins: How You Can Be More Than You Were Before.” @MLCavanaugh

Donna Farizan, a “Today” contributor, announced her departure from the NBC morning show during Monday’s “Today With Jenna and Friends.”

“A year ago, I launched a series called ‘Own Your Power,’ where I challenged myself to speak my truth,” Farizan told co-hosts Jenna Bush Hager and Savannah Guthrie. “And now, after 12 years with ‘Today,’ I’m challenging myself to spread my wings beyond the show to see what new and exciting opportunities await me professionally.”

Farizan, 34, then read a letter she wrote to herself reflecting on the experiences and lessons she gained during her time on the show.

“The world of TV and content can sometimes feel overwhelming because there is no road map,” she said as highlights from the last 12 years played. “But I am so grateful to have gone to the school of Kathie Lee Gifford, the school of Hoda Kotb and the school of Jenna Bush Hager, because now it’s time for me, Donna Farizan, to create my own map.”

Farizan, who joined “Today” as an intern when she was 20, became a full-time contributor after graduating from George Washington University in Washington, D.C.

Throughout her “Today” career, she hosted game segments and, through her segment “Own Your Power,” told stories of people realizing their capabilities. Farizan often shared personal experiences on the show or through essays written for Today.com, where she wrote about freezing her eggs.

The show’s staff joined Farizan, Hager and Guthrie onstage to bid their contributor farewell.

Farizan thanked Hager for teaching her that being herself is enough and told Guthrie that she was one of the reporters she studied for her senior thesis in college.

Before signing off, Farizan thanked the viewers for growing up with her and for being a constant of the show.

Vladimir Putin is on a roll the past few weeks. First President Trump invited him to Anchorage. Then he got a three-way hug with China’s President Xi Jinping and Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi at a summit in China. And an invitation to a grand military parade in Beijing.

Since the 2014 annexation of Crimea, Putin had been shunted to the fringes of summit group photos. After Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, he had been treated as a pariah by the United States and Europe. Indicted by the International Criminal Court on charges of genocide, he could travel only to countries that wouldn’t arrest him. In short, Moscow was not being treated with the respect it believed it deserved.

Trump thought that by literally rolling out the red carpet for Putin in Alaska — and clapping as the Russian loped down the red carpet — he could reset the bilateral relationship. And it did. But not the way Trump intended.

The Alaskan summit convinced the Russians that the current administration is willing to throw the sources of American global power out the window.

Trade partners, geopolitical allies and alliances — everything is on the table for Trump. The U.S. president believes this shows his power; the Russians see this as a low-cost opportunity to degrade American influence. Putin was trained by the KGB to recognize weakness and exploit it.

There is no evidence that being friendly to Putin and agreeing with Russian positions are going to make Moscow more willing to stop fighting in Ukraine. Overlooking Russia’s intensifying hybrid attacks on Europe, in February, Vice President JD Vance warned Europe that it should be focusing instead on the threat to democracy “from within.” This followed Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth‘s assurances that Ukraine would never join NATO. Trump has suggested that U.S. support for NATO and Europe is contingent on those countries paying up. In an event that sent Moscow pundits to pop the Champagne, Trump told Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky in the Oval Office that he just didn’t “have the cards” and should stop trying to beat Russia.

Did any of this bring Putin to the negotiating table? No.

In fact, the Kremlin indicated a readiness to talk with Trump about the war only when Trump threatened “very, very powerful” sanctions in mid-July. This time, he seemed serious about it. The Alaska summit happened a month later. The tougher Trump is with Russia, the more likely he is to get any kind of traction in negotiations. It’s unfortunate that the president has now gone back to vague two-week deadlines for imposing sanctions that never materialize.

Russia believes it will win the war. China has been a steady friend, willing to sell Russia cars and dual-use technology that ends up in drones that are attacking Ukrainian cities. It has also become Russia’s largest buyer of crude oil and coal. Western sanctions have not been biting the Russian economy, though they have nibbled away at state revenues. Europe and the United States have not been willing to apply the kind of economic pressure that would seriously dent Russia’s ability to carry on the war.

Putin keeps saying that a resolution to the war requires that the West address the “root causes” of the war. These causes, for Russia, relate to the way it was treated after losing the Cold War. The three Baltic nations joined Europe as fast as they could. Central and Eastern European countries decided that they would rather be part of NATO than the Warsaw Pact. When Georgia, Moldova and Ukraine started asking for membership in the European Union and NATO, Russia realized it wouldn’t be able to convince them to stay with economic appeal or soft power. It had to use force. Unable to demonstrate the attraction of its suffocating embrace, or the value of its Eurasian Economic Union, Russia believed it had to use force to keep Ukraine by its side. It reminds one of a grotesque Russian expression: “If he beats you, it means he loves you.”

The real “root cause” of the war in Ukraine is Russia’s inability to accept that centuries of empire do not confer the right to dominate former colonies forever. Mongolia learned this. As did the British. And the French. And the Ottomans. The Austro-Hungarians.

Eventually this war will end. But not soon. Russia is insisting on maximalist demands that Ukraine cannot agree to, which include control over territory it hasn’t managed to occupy. Ukraine will not stop fighting until it is sure that Russia will not attack again. Achieving that degree of certainty with flimsy security guarantees is impossible.

In the meantime, Ukrainian cities on the frontline will continue being wiped out, citizens in Kherson will continue being subjects of “human safari” for Russian drone operators, people across Ukraine will continue experiencing daily air raids that send them scurrying into shelters. Soldiers, volunteers, civilians and children will continue dying. Trump appears to care about the thousands of daily casualties. Most of these are Russian soldiers who have been sent to their death by a Russian state that doesn’t see their lives as worth preserving.

Trump is understandably frustrated with his inability to “stop the killing” because he has assumed that satisfying Russian demands is the answer. The opposite is true: Only by showing — proving — to Russia that its demands are unattainable will the U.S. persuade the Kremlin to consider meaningful negotiations. Countries at war come to the negotiating table not because they are convinced to abandon their objectives. They sit down when they realize their goals are unattainable.

Alexandra Vacroux is the vice president for strategic engagement at the Kyiv School of Economics.

Donald Trump’s recent floated proposal to deploy the National Guard to crime-overrun blue cities like Chicago and Baltimore has been met with howls of outrage from the usual suspects. For many liberal talking heads and Democratic officials, this is simply the latest evidence of Trump’s “authoritarianism.” But such specious analysis distracts from what all parties ought to properly focus on: the well-being of the people who actually live in such crime-addled jurisdictions.

What’s remarkable is not just the specific policy suggestion itself — after all, federal force has been called in, or sent in, to assist state-level law enforcement plenty of times — but rather how Trump is once again baiting his political opponents into defending the indefensible. He has a singular talent for making the left clutch onto wildly unpopular positions and take the wrong side of clear 80-20 issues. It’s political jiu-jitsu at its finest.

Crime in cities like Chicago and Baltimore isn’t a right-wing fever dream. It’s a persistent, documented crisis that continues to destroy communities and ruin lives. Chicago saw nearly 600 homicides in 2024 alone. In Baltimore, despite a recent downtick, violent crime remains exponentially higher than national averages. Sustained, decades-long Democratic leadership in both cities has failed, time and again, to secure even a minimum baseline level of safety for residents — many of whom are Black and working-class, two communities Democrats purport to champion.

Trump sees that leadership and quality-of-life vacuum. And he’s filling it with a popular message of law and order.

Trump’s proposal to deploy the National Guard isn’t the flight of fancy of a would-be strongman. It’s federalism functioning as the founders intended: The federal government must step in, per Article IV of the Constitution, when local governance breaks down so catastrophically that the feds are needed to “guarantee … a republican form of government.” Even more specifically, the Insurrection Act of 1807 has long been available as a congressionally authorized tool for presidents to restore order when state unrest reaches truly intolerable levels. Presidents from Jefferson to Eisenhower to Bush 41 have invoked it.

Trump’s critics would rather not have a conversation about bloody cities like Chicago — or the long history of presidents deploying the National Guard when local circumstances require it. They’d rather scream “fascism” than explain why a grandmother on the South Side of Chicago should have to dodge gang bullets on her way to church. They’d rather chant slogans about “abolishing the police” than face the hard fact that the communities most devastated by crime consistently clamor for more law enforcement — not less.

This is where Trump’s political instincts shine. He doesn’t try to “win” the crime debate by splitting the difference with progressives. He doesn’t offer a milquetoast promise to fund “violence interrupters” or expand toothless social programs. He goes right at the issue, knowing full well that the American people are with him.

Because they are. The public has consistently ranked crime and safety among their top concerns; last November, it was usually a top-five issue in general election exit polling. And polling consistently shows that overwhelming majorities — often in the 70-80% range — support more police funding and oppose the left’s radical decarceration agenda. Democrats, ever in thrall to their activist far-left flank, are stuck defending policies with rhetoric that most voters correctly identify as both dangerous and absurd.

Trump knows that when he floats these proposals, Democrats and their corporate media allies won’t respond with nuance. They’ll respond with knee-jerk outrage — just as they did in 2020, when Trump sent federal agents to Portland to stop violent anarchists from torching courthouses. The media framed it as martial law; sane Oregonians saw it as basic governance.

This dynamic plays out again and again. When Trump highlights the border crisis and the need to deport unsavory figures like Mahmoud Khalil and Kilmar Abrego Garcia, Democrats defend open borders. When Trump attacks gender ideology indoctrination in schools, Democrats double down on letting teachers hide children’s gender transitions from parents. When Trump condemns pro-Hamas rioters in American cities, Democrats can’t bring themselves to say a word of support for Israel’s war against a State Department-recognized foreign terrorist organization. When Trump signs an executive order seeking to prosecute flag burning, Democrats defend flag burning.

On and on it goes. By now, it’s a well-established pattern. And it’s politically devastating for the left. Moreover, the relevant history is on Trump’s side. This sort of federal corrective goes back all the way to the republic’s origins; those now freaking out might want to read up on George Washington’s efforts to quash the Whiskey Rebellion in 1794.

Call it the art of the 80-20 issue. Along with his sheer sense of humor, Trump’s instinctual knack for picking such winning battles is one of his greatest political assets. And this time, the winner won’t just be Trump himself — it will be Chicagoans and Baltimoreans as well.

Josh Hammer’s latest book is “Israel and Civilization: The Fate of the Jewish Nation and the Destiny of the West.” This article was produced in collaboration with Creators Syndicate. @josh_hammer

This is the story of two Republican doctor-senators named Bill.

One of them, as majority leader from 2003 to 2007, helped a self-described “compassionate conservative” Republican president pass a Medicare prescription drug plan and the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR), “the largest commitment by any nation to address a single disease in history.”

The other, as a member of the Senate Finance Committee, voted to send Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s nomination as secretary of Health and Human Services to the Senate floor. It was a 14-13 vote, so his was a crucial “aye” that allowed a conspiracy theorist, disinformation spreader and anti-vaxxer to become the top public health official in America. He already has defunded world-changing mRNA vaccine research, imposed major restrictions on access to COVID vaccines amid a surging variant of the virus and triggered a crisis at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

“The firewall between science and ideology is completely broken down,” Dr. Demetre Daskalakis, former director of the CDC’s National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, said Sunday on ABC’s “This Week.” He was part of the shocking CDC leadership exodus last week after the Trump administration forced out CDC Director Susan Monarez.

The trajectory from heart and lung transplant surgeon Bill Frist of Tennessee to gastroenterologist Bill Cassidy of Louisiana is emblematic of the dark Republican Party journey on science and health — from the Bush family to the Trump family, from American greatness to self-defeating denialism on everything from vaccines to cancer research.

There are four doctors in the Senate: Cassidy, orthopedic surgeon John Barrasso of Wyoming, obstetrician-gynecologist Roger Marshall of Kansas and ophthalmologist Rand Paul of Kentucky. All are Republicans and all voted in February to confirm Kennedy.

Eleven of the 17 medical doctors in the House are Republicans, and all of them voted for the nearly $1 trillion in Medicaid cuts in the vast tax-and-spending law that Trump signed on July 4. So did the four dentists in the House, all of them Republicans. The American Dental Assn. endorsed three of them. The fourth is Arizona’s Paul Gosar, a top competitor with Kennedy in the medical disinformation space whose siblings have made ads urging voters to reject him.

Frist was the only doctor in the Senate when he served. After leaving the Senate in early 2007, he joined the Bipartisan Policy Center, where he is a senior fellow and co-chair of its Health Project. He has been on the board of directors of the Nature Conservancy since 2015, and was elected to a three-year term as global board chair in 2022.

Frist has sharply criticized the Medicaid cuts passed into law this year, saying they threaten rural hospitals and public health. Last spring, accepting a 2025 Earth Award from Time Magazine, he said climate health is crucial to human health, and he urged a personal approach to raise American awareness. He often describes his environmental and health missions as inseparable. “Planetary health is human health. Let’s lead with science, unity, and urgency,” he posted on X on Earth Day.

Good luck with that, at least in the short term. The same new law that cuts Medicaid also cuts funds for renewable energy projects and incentives, with conservationists predicting more pollution, fewer jobs and higher energy costs as a result. Only three Republican senators bucked the party tide on that bill, and Paul was the only doctor among them. His breaking point was a provision raising the U.S. debt limit to $5 trillion — not Medicaid or clean energy cuts affecting health.

Cassidy, of course, voted for it. And when Monarez found herself in Kennedy’s crosshairs over vaccines, Cassidy privately intervened for her, which backfired. Now, having failed to spare America this nightmare when he could have, the senator is threatening “oversight” by the health committee he chairs and trying to get a Sept. 18 meeting of unqualified Kennedy-appointed vaccine “advisors” postponed.

This is thin gruel, especially from a doctor once committed to public health and science writ large. Cassidy co-founded a clinic that gave free dental and medical care to the working uninsured, his website says, and created a public-private partnership that vaccinated 36,000 children for hepatitis at no cost to their families. During the Biden presidency, he voted for bipartisan gun safety and infrastructure bills and the bipartisan CHIPS and Science Act to bolster the U.S. semiconductor industry. He was also one of five Republicans voting for a small-business COVID relief bill.

Even more notably, in the Senate impeachment trial after the Jan. 6, 2021, Capitol riot, Cassidy voted to convict Trump of “incitement of insurrection.” “Our Constitution and our country is more important than any one person. I voted to convict President Trump because he is guilty,” he said then. The Louisiana Republican Party censured him the same day.

Now running for his third term, Cassidy is already facing primary challengers who don’t have that baggage. They include state Treasurer John Fleming, a former congressman who worked for Trump in the White House, and public service commissioner Eric Skrmetta, who chaired all three of Trump’s presidential campaigns in Louisiana.

Fleming has said Cassidy’s vote to convict Trump failed the people of Louisiana. And that’s the problem with today’s Republican Party. The truth is that since that brave vote, Cassidy has failed all Americans. He has also assured that his legacy will be the wreckage of our once world-class public health and medical research programs.

On the other side, there is the 314 Action group that is recruiting and funding Democratic doctors and other Democratic scientists to run for office. It’s an openly partisan operation, right up to a snarky-ish all-caps X post about its $1-million commitment to California’s fight to neutralize the five new House seats Texas is trying to add. What else can you do when the other major party, even its medical professionals, is leading, aiding and abetting in the GOP war on science?

“If @SenBillCassidy had a spine, a known anti-vax conspiracy theorist wouldn’t be destroying our public health,” the group posted last Wednesday on X. “He had an opportunity to thwart the confirmation of RFK Jr.,” 314 Action president and founder Shaughnessy Naughton told me in a recent interview. “Instead he chose to go down a different path and go against what his life experience and professional training told him was a dangerous nominee to lead our health services. And he did it anyway. … That is shameful.”

In February, before Kennedy was confirmed, the conservative New York Times columnist Bret Stephens rated him “worst nominee in U.S. Cabinet history.” And then Stephens suggested the person he preferred for the job: Bill Frist.

Jill Lawrence is an opinion writer and author of “The Art of the Political Deal: How Congress Beat the Odds and Broke Through Gridlock.” @jilldlawrence.bsky.social

The most-followed professional sports league on Earth is increasingly an American one, but it’s not the NFL, NBA or Major League Baseball. Despite their impressive strides in growing global audiences and reach, homegrown U.S. sports aren’t the world’s biggest draw. Instead, American teams are buying into the world’s most popular sport — the other football — via the global all-star English Premier League.

The Premier League kicked off its 2025-2026 season Aug. 15 with 11 of its 20 clubs under U.S. ownership (only four teams in the league are British-owned. It promises to be a crackling season.

Will thrice runners-up Arsenal (which shares owners with the Los Angeles Rams) be able to dethrone Liverpool (owned by the Red Sox’s Fenway Sports Group)? Will heavy spenders Chelsea (which shares owners with the Dodgers and the Lakers) once again vie for the league title, fresh off its improbable FIFA Club World Cup win this summer? And will San Francisco 49ers-owned Leeds United gain a permanent foothold in the league after being promoted from the lower division last season?

Perhaps the most compelling Premier League storyline is the fast-accelerating American takeover of soccer/football and what it tells us about the globalization of American culture. Suddenly, Americans are far more connected to the rest of the world than previous generations were, thanks to sport, our age’s leading pastime and most important form of media.

When I first moved to the United States as a teenager in the 1980s, Americans didn’t play much with others. We had our sports and proclaimed the winners in our domestic leagues “world champions.” Sport was the exception to the rule that all things American were the world’s cultural lingua franca. Indeed, as a result of the great 19th century footballing schism, the U.S. is the only major country where the stars of our most popular sports leagues never get to represent their country in international competition.

Tom Brady never got to wear a Team USA jersey because, well, only other Americans play his kind of football. Moreover, although a Hollywood blockbuster might make three-quarters of its box office outside the U.S., and Taylor Swift scheduled two-thirds of her Eras Tour in nations other than America, our biggest sporting production — the Super Bowl — is still watched by far more people inside the U.S. than outside it.

Yet things have changed dramatically over the past generation. It used to be common to hear sports pundits and American politicians (especially conservative ones) vilify soccer with the same xenophobic fervor reserved for such dastardly foreign schemes as the metric system and socialism. But now our “America First” President Trump is fast friends with FIFA’s leader Gianni Infantino, and Trump’s enthusiasm for the recent Club World Cup was such that he famously overstayed his welcome on stage during Chelsea’s post-match celebrations last month at MetLife Stadium.

We can thank the girls and women of America, and Title IX, for putting an end to America’s sporting isolationism, along with immigrants, who were often the first to introduce the sport across American communities, and the marketing departments and aspirations of multinational corporations.

Coca-Cola was FIFA’s first global sponsor not because it was already a powerful American company, but because FIFA could help push the brand to every corner of the world. Electronic Arts could have simply created its Madden video game for NFL aficionados, but it was its FIFA game that made it a global player (and in turn helped popularize the sport among millions of American kids).

In 2026, the men’s World Cup, which the United States will co-host with Mexico and Canada, will further ratify the end of America’s sporting isolationism. Ours is now a nation where soccer practice is a staple of most kids’ lives, the game’s best player ever joined our top domestic league (which didn’t exist until 1996), and we can watch every other league on the planet. Thanks to NBC’s masterful coverage, England’s Premier League is as avidly followed in this country as many of our domestic leagues.

It wasn’t that long ago that I could wear my Arsenal sweatshirt out and about without eliciting much of a response, but no more. A couple of seasons ago in Phoenix, I had taped a midday match to watch after work and was scrupulously avoiding any source of spoilers. Then I ran into my gym for a quick workout wearing my Arsenal cap.

“Tough loss,” the guy at the front desk said.

I guess so, but an oddly satisfying spoiler too, for what it represented.

Andrés Martinez is the co-director of the Great Game Lab at Arizona State University, a fellow at New America and author of the forthcoming book, “The Great Game: A Tale of Two Footballs and America’s Quest to Conquer Global Sport.”

As the Democratic Party searches for direction in the post-2024 landscape, its leaders seem bent on alienating their own base over Gaza. This is not a matter of nuance or tactical positioning; it’s a profound moral and political miscalculation.

That failure is on vivid display in the decision by House Democratic Caucus Chair Pete Aguilar (Redlands) to help lead a delegation of mostly freshman Democratic representatives recently to Israel. The trip included meetings with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who is on trial for corruption in Israel and is the subject of arrest warrants from the International Criminal Court alleging war crimes and crimes against humanity.

Polling makes the disconnect impossible to ignore. In July, Gallup found that just 8% of Democrats approve of Israel’s military campaign in Gaza, with disapproval overwhelming. Pew Research Center reported in April that 69% of Democrats now hold an unfavorable view of Israel — a striking shift from just a few years ago. And Data for Progress has consistently found supermajority Democratic support for a permanent ceasefire; in May 2024, 83% of Democrats backed a permanent ceasefire, and in a June 12, 2024, poll a majority of Democrats said they believed Israel was committing war crimes in Gaza.

Aguilar’s role makes this especially galling. He isn’t a backbencher; he’s a high-ranking member of the Democratic Party leadership. That gives him a particular responsibility to model principled conduct for newer members. Instead, he’s showing them the wrong lesson: that obedience to the donor class matters more than representing constituents. The point is underscored by his fundraising: OpenSecrets reports Aguilar received about $678,000 from donors categorized as “Pro-Israel” in the 2023–24 cycle.

The mechanics of that influence are no mystery. The American Israel Public Affairs Committee and allied pro-Israel PACs reward loyalty with torrents of campaign cash and punish dissent with lavishly funded primary challenges. Reps. Jamaal Bowman and Cori Bush — both outspoken critics of Israel’s conduct in Gaza — have been textbook examples: Bowman was unseated after record outside spending flooded his race, and Bush faced a barrage of super-PAC money that ultimately toppled her. The incentive structure is clear: Toe the line and your coffers swell; cross it and a financial juggernaut rolls over you.

There is a political price for complying with this pressure, however. The Institute for Middle East Understanding, using YouGov, found that among voters who backed Joe Biden in 2020 but chose someone else in 2024 “ending Israel’s violence in Gaza” was the top issue for 29% nationally — ahead of the economy — and 20% in battleground states. Those results point to a straightforward conclusion: Ignoring Democratic voters on Gaza depresses enthusiasm and peels away enough support to matter in close races.

Gaza is politically damaging not only because of the issue itself — though the moral stakes could hardly be higher — but also because it has become a measure of where leaders’ loyalties lie. Voters read it as a test of whether their representatives will stand with the people who elected them or with wealthy donors and foreign lobbies. Fail that test and many will assume you might betray them on other critical issues in the future.

The Democratic leadership’s unwillingness to adapt is not just bad politics; it’s a betrayal of basic democratic principles. Rank-and-file Democrats overwhelmingly want an end to the carnage, an end to unconditional military aid to Israel, and policies rooted in human rights and international law. Yet too many leaders seem more concerned with keeping favor in donor circles than with honoring the public’s will.

If Democrats hope to retain their coalition, they need to realign policy with their voters’ values: call for a permanent ceasefire; condition U.S. military assistance on compliance with international law; and replace photo-op delegations with diplomacy that centers on justice and accountability.

Until then, every AIPAC-sponsored trip led by a party leader will read like a declaration of priorities — and a reminder of the price the party will continue to pay at the ballot box.

George Bisharat is a professor emeritus at UC Law San Francisco and a longtime commentator on U.S. policy toward the Middle East.

As the Trump administration continues to ramp up immigration enforcement actions, a group of lawmakers is suing Immigration and Customs Enforcement for placing restrictions on detention center visits — obstructing Congress’ role in overseeing government functions.

Twelve House Democrats filed a lawsuit challenging new guidelines that require advance notice for oversight visits and render certain facilities off-limits. “No child should be sleeping on concrete, and no sick person should be denied care,” said Rep. Jimmy Gomez (D-Los Angeles). “Yet that’s exactly what we keep hearing is happening inside Trump’s detention centers.”

These lawmakers are right to seek access to detention facilities. Detention centers have long been plagued by poor conditions, so the need for oversight is urgent. With record numbers of migrants being detained, the public has a right to know how people in the government’s custody are being treated.

The U.S. operates the world’s largest immigration detention system, at a cost of $3 billion a year. This money is appropriated by Congress — and comes with conditions.

Under existing law, none of the funds given to Homeland Security may be used to prevent members of Congress from conducting oversight visits of “any facility operated by or for the Department of Homeland Security used to detain or otherwise house aliens.” In addition, the law states that members of Congress are not required to “provide prior notice of the intent to enter a facility.” So ICE’s attempt to place limits on oversight appears to be illegal.

The restrictions are also problematic because they claim to exempt the agency’s field offices from oversight. However, migrants are being locked up in such offices, including at the Edward R. Roybal Federal Building in Los Angeles, and 26 Federal Plaza in New York City. In the former, one detainee reported being fed only once a day, at 3 a.m. In the latter, as many as 80 detainees have been crammed into a single room amid sweltering summer temperatures. These offices were never set up to house people overnight or for days or weeks. If they are functioning as de facto detention centers, then they must be subject to inspections.

Congressional oversight of immigration detention is vital right now. The current capacity for U.S. detention facilities is 41,000. Yet the government was holding nearly 57,000 people as of July 27. That means facilities are far over capacity, in a system that the Vera Institute of Justice describes as “plagued by abuse and neglect.”

No matter who is president, conditions in immigrant detention are generally abysmal. Migrant detention centers have been cited for their lack of medical care, poor treatment of detainees, and physical and sexual violence. In 2019, the federal government itself reported that conditions in detention were inhumane. At least 11 people have died in detention since January. This reality cries out for more transparency and accountability — especially because Homeland Security laid off most of its internal watchdogs earlier this year.

The ranks of detainees include asylum-seekers, teenagers, DACA recipients, pregnant women, journalists and even U.S. citizens. Most of the detainees arrested lately have no criminal convictions. These folks are often arrested and moved thousands of miles away from home, complicating their access to legal representation and family visits. A visit by a congressional delegation may be the only way to ensure that they are being treated properly.

In response to the lawsuit by House Democrats, Tricia McLaughlin, a spokesperson for Homeland Security, said: “These members of Congress could have just scheduled a tour. Instead, they’re running to court to drive clicks and fundraising emails.” She added that ICE was imposing the new limits, in part, because of “obstructions to enforcement, including by politicians themselves.”

McLaughlin might have been referring to a May scuffle outside a Newark, N.J., detention center that led to charges being filed against Rep. LaMonica McIver (D-N.J.) and the arrest of the city’s mayor. But this incident would not have occurred if immigration officials had followed the law and allowed lawmakers inside to survey the facility’s conditions.

Indeed, the acting director of ICE, Todd Lyons, told a congressional hearing in May that he recognized the right of members to visit detention facilities, even with no notice. And the notion that any government agency can unilaterally regulate Congress runs afoul of the Constitution. The legislative branch has the right and obligation to supervise the executive branch. Simply put, ICE cannot tell members of Congress what they can or cannot do.

The need for oversight in detention facilities will only become greater in the future, as Congress just approved $45 billion for the expansion of immigrant detention centers. This could result in the daily detention of at least 116,000 people. Meanwhile, 55% of Americans, according to the Pew Center, disapprove of building more facilities to hold immigrants.

ICE’s new policies violate federal law. No agency is above oversight — and members of Congress must be allowed full access to detention facilities.

Raul A. Reyes is an immigration attorney and contributor to NBC Latino and CNN Opinion. X: @RaulAReyes; Instagram: @raulareyes1

By hosting an unprecedented short-notice summit with Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky and key European leaders on Monday, President Trump significantly raised the prospects for ending Russia’s three-and-a-half-year-long war against Ukraine. The vibe at the opening was affable and positive. The participants genuinely looked determined to work out compromises that only a few weeks ago appeared illusory. It was a good sign for long-term Euro-Atlantic security cooperation in the face of challenges that, in Trump’s words, we have not faced since World War II. Toward the end, Trump’s call to Moscow brought a follow-up U.S.-Ukraine-Russia summit within reach.

But the rising expectations also reveal formidable obstacles on the path to peace. As the world’s leaders were heading to Washington, Putin’s forces unleashed 182 infantry assaults, 152 massive glide bombs, more than 5,100 artillery rounds and 5,000 kamikaze drones on Ukraine’s defenses and 140 long-range drones and four Iskander ballistic missiles on Ukraine’s cities. The attacks claimed at least 10 civilian lives, including a small child. This is how Russia attacks Ukraine daily, signaling disrespect for Trump’s diplomacy.

The Monday summit also revealed that Putin’s ostensible concession at the Alaska summit to agree to international security guarantees for Ukraine is a poisoned chalice. On the surface, it seemed like a breakthrough toward compromise. The White House summit participants jumped on it and put the guarantees at the center of discussions.

And yet there has been no agreement, and the world has more questions than answers. How could the Ukrainian armed forces be strengthened to deter Russia? Who would pay? How could Russia be prevented from rebuilding its Black Sea Fleet and blocking Ukrainian grain exports? What troop deployments would be needed? Who would put boots on the ground in Ukraine? What kind of guarantees should match what kind of territorial concessions?

Such questions are fraught with complex debates. Between the U.S. and Europe. Within Europe. Within the Trump administration. Within Ukraine. And all of that even before having to negotiate the issue with the Kremlin. The net outcome of the past week’s diplomatic huddles will be Putin buying time for his aggression as Washington abstains from sanctions hoping for peace.

Disingenuously, in exchange for this poisoned chalice of a concession, Putin demanded that Ukraine should cede not only lands currently under Russia’s illegal military occupation but also a large piece of the Donetsk province still under Kyiv’s control. That area is home to 300,000 people and is a major defense stronghold. Controlling it would give Russia a springboard to deeper attacks targeting big cities and threatening to bring Ukraine to its knees.

Putin’s offer also threatens to tear apart Ukraine’s society. In my tracking poll with Ukraine’s Academy of Sciences Institute of Sociology completed in early August, close to half of 567 respondents want Ukraine to reassert control over all of its internationally recognized territories, including the Crimean peninsula illegally annexed in 2014. Only 20% would be content with freezing the conflict along the current front lines. The option of ceding territories to Russia still under Kyiv control is so outrageous that it was not included in the survey. Eighty percent of Ukrainians continue to have faith in Ukraine’s victory and to see democracy and free speech — core values Putin would take away — as vital for Ukraine’s future.

Getting Ukrainian society right is important for Trump’s peace effort to succeed. Discounting Ukrainians’ commitment to freedom and independence has a lot to do with where we are now. Putin launched the all-out invasion in February 2022 expecting Ukrainians to embrace Russian rule. Then-President Biden assessed that Ukrainians would fold quickly and delayed major military assistance to Kyiv.

Misjudging Ukrainians now would most likely result in a rejection of peace proposals and possibly a political crisis there, inviting more aggression from Moscow while empowering more dogged resistance to the invasion, with a long, bloody war grinding on.

Thankfully, Trump has the capacity to keep the peace process on track. First, he can amplify two critically important messages he articulated at the Monday summit: U.S. willingness to back up Ukraine’s security guarantees and to continue to sell weapons to Ukraine if no peace deal is reached. Second, he can use his superb skills at strategic ambiguity and pivot back to threats of leveraging our submarine power and of imposing secondary sanctions on countries trading with Russia. Third, he can drop a hint he’d back up the Senate’s bipartisan Supporting Ukraine Act of 2025, which would provide military assistance to Ukraine over two years from confiscated Russian assets, the U.S.-Ukraine minerals deal proceeds and investment in America’s military modernization.

The Monday summit makes the urgency of these and similar moves glaringly clear.

Mikhail Alexseev, a professor of international relations at San Diego State University, is the author of “Without Warning: Threat Assessment, Intelligence, and Global Struggle” and principal investigator of the multiyear “War, Democracy and Society” survey in Ukraine.

On Tuesday, New York City radio host Sid Rosenberg asked Secretary of State Marco Rubio about whether the State Department intends to designate the Muslim Brotherhood and Council on American-Islamic Relations as terrorist organizations. Rubio responded that “all of that is in the works,” although “obviously there are different branches of the Muslim Brotherhood, so you’d have to designate each one of them.”

Logistics and bureaucracy aside: It’s about time.

For far too long, the United States has treated the Muslim Brotherhood with a dangerous combination of naiveté and willful blindness. The Brotherhood is not a random innocuous political movement with a religious bent. It is, and has been since its founding about a century ago, the ideological wellspring of modern Sunni Islamism. The Brotherhood’s fingerprints are on jihadist groups as wide-ranging as Al Qaeda and Hamas, yet successive American administrations — Republican and Democratic alike — have failed to designate its various offshoots for what they are: terrorist organizations.

That failure is not merely academic. It has real-world consequences. By refusing to label the Muslim Brotherhood accurately, we tie our own hands in the fight against Islamism — both at home and abroad. We allow subversive actors to exploit our political system and bankroll extremism under the guise of “cultural” or “charitable” outreach.

Enough is enough.

Founded in Egypt in 1928 by Hassan al-Banna, the Muslim Brotherhood’s stated mission has never wavered: the establishment of a global caliphate governed by sharia law. The Brotherhood has always attempted to position itself as a “political” organization, but it is “political” in the way Lenin was political. Think subversion through infiltration — or revolution through stealth.

Consider Hamas. Hamas is not merely inspired by the Muslim Brotherhood — it is the Muslim Brotherhood’s Palestinian-Arab branch. The link is unambiguous; as Article Two of Hamas’ founding charter states, “The Islamic Resistance Movement is one of the wings of Moslem Brotherhood in Palestine.” And Hamas’ charter also makes clear its penchant for explicit violence: “Initiatives, and so-called peaceful solutions and international conferences, are in contradiction to the principles of the Islamic Resistance Movement.”

This is not the rhetoric of nuance or moderation. This is the ideological foundation of contemporary jihadism. Yet, while Hamas is rightly designated as a Foreign Terrorist Organization by the U.S. State Department, other branches of the Muslim Brotherhood remain off the list.

Why? Because Western elites have allowed themselves to be duped by the Brotherhood’s two-faced strategy. Abroad, they openly sow the seeds of jihad, cheer for a global caliphate and preach for the destruction of Israel and Western civilization more broadly. But in the corridors of power in the U.S. and Europe, they and their Qatari paymasters don suits and ties, rebrand as “moderates” and leverage media credulity and overly generous legal protections to plant ideological roots.

What’s more, CAIR — an unindicted co-conspirator in the largest terrorism financing trial in U.S. history — has extremely well-documented ties to the Brotherhood. And yet CAIR agents continue to operate freely in the United States, masquerading as civil rights advocates while pushing Islamist narratives that undermine the core constitutional principles of equality that they purport to champion. Today, almost two years after CAIR-linked Hamas executed the Oct. 7 pogrom in Israel, CAIR remains in good standing with many elected Democrats.

It shouldn’t be so. In November 2014, the United Arab Emirates designated CAIR as a terrorist organization, citing its links to the Brotherhood and Hamas. And the Brotherhood itself is recognized as a terrorist organization by at least Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Egypt, Bahrain and Russia. Jordan also banned the Brotherhood earlier this year. Put bluntly: There is absolutely no reason the United States should have a warmer approach toward CAIR than the UAE or a warmer approach toward the Brotherhood than Saudi Arabia.

The first Trump administration flirted with the idea of designating the Muslim Brotherhood a terrorist organization. It was the right impulse. But the effort was ultimately bogged down by internal bureaucracy and international pressure — most notably from Qatar and Turkey, both sometime U.S. partners that harbor strong Brotherhood sympathies and bankroll Islamist causes. And the second Trump administration’s troubling embrace of Qatar may well nip any designation in the bud before it even takes off.

Critics argue that such a designation would complicate relations with countries where Brotherhood affiliates participate in local politics. But since when did the U.S. place a premium on building alliances with the ideological cousins of Al Qaeda and ISIS?

Moreover, designating the Muslim Brotherhood would empower domestic law enforcement and intelligence agencies to go after its networks and financial infrastructure. It would send a clear signal that the U.S. government no longer accepts a claim of “nonviolent Islamism” as a pass when designating terrorist groups.

In a time when the threat from Islamic extremism remains global and decentralized, we can no longer afford to turn a blind eye to the architects of the movement. The Muslim Brotherhood is not, as “Arab Spring” boosters risibly claimed a decade and a half ago, a Western partner in “democracy.” It is the mother’s milk of modern Sunni jihadism.

The question is not whether we can afford to designate Muslim Brotherhood offshoots as terrorist organizations. It is: How much longer can we afford not to?

Josh Hammer’s latest book is “Israel and Civilization: The Fate of the Jewish Nation and the Destiny of the West.” This article was produced in collaboration with Creators Syndicate. @josh_hammer

Democrats, bless their hearts, keep trying to figure out the magic formula to stop President Trump. But here’s a cold splash of reality: If Trump’s popularity ever collapses, it will probably be because of something completely beyond their control.

In 2020, it wasn’t some brilliant strategy that defeated Trump. It was COVID. A global pandemic. An act of God (or Wuhan).

This raises an uncomfortable thought: the next disruption — the one that might shake up the political snow globe again — will probably be much bigger than COVID. That looming disturbance is artificial intelligence.

In a recent Substack essay, Pete Buttigieg suggested that “the number one leadership challenge for world leaders, including the President of the United States, will be to manage the changes that AI is bringing about.” He goes on to note that “our president — and his opposition — have yet to make clear what their AI policies even are.”

He’s not wrong about the bipartisan lack of preparation. And for this reason, the political consequences are likely to be brutal for whichever party is in charge when the tipping point arrives and AI upends the lives of millions of Americans.

Trump still has three and a half years left on the clock — just enough time for AI to yank the rug out from under him. That’s a golden opportunity for Democrats, if they’re smart enough to capitalize on it.

But Democrats should hold off on gleefully penciling in 2028 as the year AI hands them the keys to the White House in perpetuity. Why? Because huge shocks to the system tend to empower either a) bold problem solvers or b) populist demagogues.

Lest we forget, the last seismic tech shift — the rise of the Information Age — gave us globalization, economic dislocation (for working-class Americans) and (eventually) Donald Trump.

This next disruption could be even more traumatic. AI isn’t just coming for truck drivers. It’s coming for legal assistants, graphic designers, junior software developers, even (ahem) writers. College graduates who spent decades believing their degree was a shield against obsolescence are about to get a taste of what coal miners, steelworkers, typists and travel agents have already endured.

When that happens, disenchanted moderates will radicalize, and income inequality will detonate. The people who build and control AI will obviously get filthy rich. So will superstar surgeons and elite litigators — people whose rarefied expertise and skills can’t be replicated remotely. But their legions of associates, researchers and paralegals will vanish like Blockbuster Video.

Now, for generations, lost jobs and industries were replaced by new ones — thanks to what economists call “creative destruction.” The buggy maker gave way to the auto industry and the auto mechanic, and society moved forward. But this time, the old rules may not apply — at least, not by virtue of some organic “invisible hand.”

If this shift is as severe and pervasive as many believe it will be (a huge caveat, to be sure), it won’t be solved by fiddling around with marginal tax rates or by mildly expanding unemployment benefits. It will require a vast reimagining of what the government does — the kind of thing that would make free-market purists break out in hives.

But here’s where it gets tricky for Democrats: They can’t simply hand displaced workers a check and call it a solution.

This is the core problem with universal basic income, often touted as the answer to AI-driven job losses. The modest $1,000-a-month figure that’s been floated is a joke. But even if the amount were higher, it would still have to be paired with meaningful work.

Something Democrats must learn: People don’t just want money. They crave dignity, purpose, belonging and a reason to get up in the morning.

That means thinking big and finding meaningful opportunities for the displaced to serve and provide value. Imagine one teacher for every five students in America’s public school and college classrooms. Imagine school buses with three adults instead of one overworked driver.

Imagine a national corps of well-paid nurses and physical therapists making regular visits to isolated seniors and providing full-time home healthcare.

Picture teams of young, tech-savvy Americans helping retirees navigate their iPads, iPhones, TVs and other devices — closing the digital divide for an entire generation.

Now, pair that with a bold expansion of union apprenticeships to train the next wave of electricians, plumbers and carpenters — alongside free college or vocational training in exchange for a year or two of national service.

It wouldn’t happen overnight. Managing this transition would require robust unemployment benefits — say, 90% of prior salary for a fixed period — not as welfare, but as an investment in people and a dividend on the value they’ve helped create by virtue of tax dollars (that built the internet) and data (that fuel automation). Because again, addressing the dilemma of job displacement is about more than money.

Which brings us to some important questions we had better answer.

What does it mean to be a citizen in a society when AI makes half of the labor market feel redundant? How do you retain your identity and sense of self-worth when the work you have dedicated your life to can be more efficiently done by artificial intelligence?

And how do we redeploy human beings — tens of millions of them — into roles that make life better for others and give them back the self-respect that comes from service?

AI might be the great test of our political age, and the party that passes this test will be remembered as our savior.

The party that fails this test will be remembered — if at all — as the one fiddling while Rome was automated.

Matt K. Lewis is the author of “Filthy Rich Politicians” and “Too Dumb to Fail.”

By midmorning in the Central Valley, the light turns hard and white, bleaching the sky and flattening every shadow. The rows of melons stretch to the horizon, vines twisted low in cracked soil. Pickers move in the rhythm the crop demands — bend, twist, lift, drop — their long sleeves damp with sweat, caps pulled low, bandanas hiding heat-burned cheeks. Spanish drifts along the rows, a joke here, a warning there, carried in the heavy air.

These are the cruelest days of harvest, when the sun turns fields into slow ovens and the heat climbs before breakfast, holding on until the stars are out. By nightfall, the damage is done: another collapse in the dirt, another family handed a death certificate instead of a paycheck.

It’s an all-too-familiar old problem in California. Nearly 20 years ago, in the shadow of four farmworker funerals — Arvin, Fresno County, Kern, Imperial Valley — California enacted the nation’s first heat rules for basic worker safety: water, shade, rest. Mercies you’d think needed no law. My fellow lawmakers and I who wrote those rules, along with then-Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger who signed them into law, believed they were enough. But two decades on, the grim reaper still walks the rows: 110 degrees, no tree, no tarp, a single water jug growing warm, its handle slick from dust and hands. Breaks denied, not from cruelty alone, but from the unrelenting clock of the harvest.

This is not a failure of the law itself, but of enforcement. Some treated the bill’s signing as the finish line instead of the starting gun. Inspectors are too few. Penalties too light. Investigations too slow. The state auditor’s latest report read like an obituary for Cal/OSHA’s credibility: outdated rules, missed chances, offices too empty to answer the phone.

Meanwhile the climate has turned meaner. Nights that once cooled now hold the day’s heat like a grudge. And the danger in the fields isn’t just the sun. Immigration raids now sweep through the Valley like dust storms — sudden, unannounced, merciless. For more than half of California’s 350,000 farmworkers, the greater threat isn’t heat stroke but a knock on the door before dawn or a traffic stop that ends with a vehicle full of workers detained and trucked to some distant site. The food that feeds the nation is pulled from the earth by people who work under triple-digit skies yet live in the shadows, where one complaint can cost them their job, their home, their freedom.

Twenty harvest seasons later, I’m calling for action — not another bill signing on the Capitol steps, but dollars, real and committed, and the regulations to match. With that will and funding, four simple fixes can turn promise into protection.

First, bring 21st century tools to the fields. In 2005, the “high-tech” solution was a plastic water jug in the shade and a flapping pop-up canopy. Today, for $50 — the price of two boxes of gloves — employers can deploy a wearable sensor clipped to a worker’s arm to track core temperature and heart rate, sending a warning before the body crosses the edge into heatstroke. That’s not Silicon Valley moonshot money. It’s pocket change for agribusiness, and for workers it could mean the difference between walking out of the rows or being carried out.

Second, enforce in real time. If a worker drops to one knee in the heat, the state shouldn’t hear about it days later in a report. Imagine a network linking growers, regulators and emergency crews to the same pulse of information — turning a slow, reactive system that documents tragedies into one that can act quickly and prevent many of them.

Third, train before the first row is picked. Ten minutes — no more — for workers to stand upright and learn, in their own language, the signs: dizziness, nausea, the creeping fog in the mind that means it’s time to stop. Not a photocopied handout in English tucked into an envelope behind a paycheck, not a rushed talk in Spanish at the field’s edge, but a verified safety course — certified by labor contractors and farmers alike. Knowledge here is as life-saving as water and shade.

Lastly, match the urgency we see in other arenas. While Cal/OSHA limps along, starved of staff and mired in red tape, Immigration and Customs Enforcement charges in the opposite direction — spurred by $170 billion in new funding, an immigration-enforcement and border-security blitz hiring thousands, dangling $50,000 signing bonuses, paying off student loans, waiving age limits, even pulling retirees back for double-dip salaries. That’s what happens when a government decides the wrong mission matters most. We pour urgency into chasing farmworkers from the fields, yet can’t muster the will to protect them in the heat. Until Cal/OSHA gets that same drive — inspectors recruited in every corner of the state, incentives to bring in a new generation, hurdles stripped away — the laws we wrote will remain a promise without a witness.

Some will say it’s too much, that the industry can’t bear the cost. But I’ve walked behind the hearses through Valley dust, stood in the gravel lots of farm town funeral homes, watched wives clutch work shirts as if they still held his warmth, seen children in Sunday clothes staring at the dirt. No budget line can measure that loss.

The Valley will keep feeding the nation. The question is whether we will keep feeding the graveyards too.

Once, by enacting heat safety rules, California declared that a life was worth more than a box of produce. If we let that promise wither in the heat, all we wrote back then was a press release. Government systems can fast-track billion-dollar projects, but until this much more affordable priority gets that kind of attention, the rules are just ink on paper, and the roll call of the dead just grows longer.

Dean Florez is a former California Senate majority leader, representing portions of the Central Valley.

President Trump’s demand for a whopping $1-billion payment from UCLA sent shock waves through the UC system. For those of us on the inside, the announcement elicited a range of responses. Some faculty and staff reacted with horror, others voiced increasing fear about the ongoing assault on academic freedom, and some merely muttered in sad resignation to the new reality.

I laughed. The president has decided to poke the bear — and the Bears and the Bruins, too. Whether Trump knows it or not, targeting the University of California is very different from going after private Ivy League institutions with deep historical ties to political power.

Pressuring UC to pay a large sum has another dimension entirely: It’s going after state tax dollars paid by the people of California. This should matter to folks on the left and the right, to those who venerate higher education and those who vote in favor of states’ rights against federal overreach.

Californians across the political spectrum should repurpose one of Trump’s own slogans: “Stop the steal.”

Unlike Columbia and Brown, which have paid off the Trump administration, UC is a public institution. That means, as new UC President James Milliken said, “we are stewards of taxpayer resources.” UC must answer to the people, not just to boards of trustees or senior administrators.

Indeed, as a professor at UC Santa Barbara, I consider myself to be employed by my fellow Californians. My job is to contribute to the fundamental mission laid out in the state’s “Master Plan”: to create new knowledge and educate the people of California. I take my responsibility even more seriously because I am also a product of UC; I earned my PhD at Berkeley and remain a proud Golden Bear. I am fully aware of what a positive effect a UC education can have on students and Californians everywhere.

A $1-billion payment to the federal government would have huge consequences — not only on the people’s university but also on the general welfare of our state, the world’s fourth-largest economy. UC is the second-largest employer in the state. We generate $82 billion in economic activity every year. More than 84% of our students come from California, and their degrees are proven to increase their lifetime earning potential. UC health centers treat millions of people every year, providing essential medical care. According to one striking study, “The economic output generated by UC-related spending is $4.4 billion larger than the economic output of the entire state of Wyoming and $16.1 billion larger than that of Vermont.”

We accomplish that in large part with the people’s money. For every dollar the state invests in us, we generate $21 of economic activity for the state. All of that activity generates $12 billion in tax revenue. We’re a great engine of growth.

You’d think a self-proclaimed genius and “self-made” business tycoon would know a good deal when he sees one.

To be sure, the supposed bases for demanding the extraordinary payment — antisemitism and civil rights abuses — are very serious. College students should expect to confront new ideas they may disagree with, but no one should be targeted for their beliefs. Full stop.

But there are more effective remedies for addressing any failures, as have already been pursued at UCLA. For Trump, though, the accusations are the pretext for punishing institutions that he doesn’t like and, as the Associated Press reports, rebuking political opponents such as Gov. Gavin Newsom. They are not reflective of a genuine concern for student rights.

Many of us have already sounded the alarm about the increasing financial challenges the UC system faces. Even last year, we had reached a critical breaking point — and that was before losing federal grant money.

But we haven’t given up and neither should the people. We all must fight back against this attempted seizure of taxpayer funds. It’s not enough to leave the task to political leaders; the people themselves must send the message.

Californians can continue to resist federal incursions by making it clear to the UC Board of Regents, elected representatives and everyone else that Californians will not tolerate a federal pressure campaign to take our state’s resources.

There are many reasons to be alarmed by Trump’s broader attack on higher education. But this time, Trump has crossed the public-private boundary and set his sights on state taxpayers’ money. Because we fund it, UC and everything it produces belongs to us. That means we all — no matter where we fall on the political spectrum — must stop the steal.

Giuliana Perrone, an associate professor of history at UC Santa Barbara, is the author of “Nothing More than Freedom: The Failure of Abolition in American Law.”

It’s not a surprise that Donald Trump has pushed Texas Republicans to redraw congressional district lines to find five more GOP seats for the U.S. House of Representatives in time for the 2026 midterm elections. He just signed a deeply unpopular bill to cut taxes for the wealthy and cut healthcare for millions of people, and his approval rating keeps dropping. In an election based on district maps as they stand — and should stand until the next census, in 2030 — his party’s 2026 prospects for holding the House are grim. Unlike his predecessors, he’s proven willing to break our democracy to get what he wants.

If Trump’s gambit succeeds — and right now it looks as if it will — then California and other states that could counter the premature Texas redistricting have only one choice — to respond in kind.

Consider the stakes: A majority of Americans disapprove of Trump’s job performance and have done so since within a month of his taking office. Yet he is undercutting the institutions that we’d otherwise depend on to speak independently and resist presidential excesses — judges, journalists, university leaders and even government officials who make the mistake of neutrally reporting facts like economic data.

With history as a predictor, Democrats would succeed in the 2026 midterms, retake the House and provide checks and balances on the Trump administration. The framers regarded Congress as the primary actor in the federal government, but it is now a shell of its former self. Elections are how America holds presidents in check. But if Trump gets his way, voters may vote but nothing will change. The already tenuous connection between the ballot box and the distribution of power will evaporate.

One can understand why Democratic legislators might not want to mimic Trump’s tactics. Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who represented New York for nearly a quarter century, warned decades ago about the tendency to “define deviancy down” and normalize actions that are anything but normal. But we don’t get to pick and choose the times we live in or the type of response that is required to meet the moment.

When voters in California approved independent redistricting 15 years ago, they would have reasonably expected that many other states would follow their lead. They would have hoped that Congress or the Supreme Court would step in to create a federal standard. They would have understood other states changing the rules for purely political reasons as unconscionable. And yet here we are.

As Gov. Gavin Newsom succinctly put it: “California’s moral high ground means nothing if we’re powerless because of it.”

The solution Newsom has proposed is a prudent one — redrawing just the congressional lines, not those for the state Legislature as well, and only doing so until the next census, when Trump will have passed from the scene.

Every objection to the proposal falls apart under inspection.

A radical left-wing plot? Even many moderate members of the Democratic Party, such as Kansas Gov. Laura Kelly, have praised it as a necessary response.

An end run around voters? Unlike in Texas, California voters themselves will decide whether to approve the plan.

An expensive special election? Cost was a reason to oppose the wishful-thinking 2021 recall election launched against Newsom (which he defeated with more than 60% of the vote), but the argument applies less so today given that Trump’s extreme unilateral actions — budget cuts and slashed programs, ICE raids, the attack on higher education, including the University of California — are putting California’s fiscal future at risk.

A race to the bottom? The University of Michigan game theorist Robert Axelrod demonstrated that if we want to foster cooperation, a tit-for-tat strategy outperforms all others. As a summary of his research succinctly put it: “Be nice. Be ready to forgive. But don’t be a pushover.” California officials have indicated that they will withdraw the proposal if Texas Republicans stand down.

A political risk? Certainly, but the leader taking on the risk is Newsom. If the proposal is defeated at the ballot, voters will be in the same position they are in right now.

Czech dissident-turned-statesman Vaclav Havel, in his famous essay “The Power of the Powerless,” described the Prague Spring not only as a “clash between two groups on the level of real power” but as the “final act … of a long drama originally played out chiefly in the theatre of the spirit and the conscience of society.”

We do not know how the current drama will play out. But the choice that Havel set out — of living within a lie or living within the truth — is as potent as ever. If Trump continues to goad Texas into abandoning its commitment to the norms of our election rules, Americans who hold onto hope that their voices still matter will be counting on California to show the way.

Vivek Viswanathan is a fellow at the Stanford Institute for Economic Policy Research. He served in the Biden White House as senior policy advisor and special assistant to the president, and previously worked for Gov. Jerry Brown and Gov. Gavin Newsom.

Remember “I alone can fix it”? Donald Trump, who made that laughable statement in his 2016 convention acceptance speech, is now testing the theory in Washington.

Trump and his party have been threatening a D.C. takeover for years and made it part of the Republican platform last year. But it was all just empty talk and random uppercase words until a former staffer at the Department of Government Efficiency was reportedly attacked in an attempted carjacking in the wee hours of Aug. 3 in a busy area of bars and restaurants.

It doesn’t matter at all to Trump that D.C.’s violent crime rate fell to a 30-year low last year and is down another 26% so far this year compared with 2024, or that a police report suggests police saw the incident and intervened. This particular victim — a teenage Elon Musk protégé and notorious DOGE operative — gave this particular president the “emergency” he needed to declare a “public safety emergency.”

Of course, he called it “a historic action to rescue our nation’s capital from crime, bloodshed, bedlam and squalor and worse.” He has federalized the city’s Metropolitan Police Department and deployed 800 members of its National Guard (to start). Over the weekend he sent 450 federal police officers from 18 agencies to patrol the city.

It’s the second time this year that Trump has played the National Guard card to show who’s boss. He sent 4,000 Guard troops and 700 Marines to Los Angeles in June, over the objections of Gov. Gavin Newsom and Mayor Karen Bass, ostensibly to restore order amid immigration raids. But the move sparked new tensions, protests and at least one surreal foray by armed, masked agents into a park where children were attending summer camp. It also drew a legal challenge from Newsom, which is unfolding in court this week.

There will be no similar lawsuit in D.C., where I’ve lived for decades. That’s because the U.S. president controls our National Guard. The hard truth is that though Wyoming and Vermont each have fewer people than D.C.’s 700,000-plus residents, D.C. is not a state. It’s still in a semi-colonial status, with a mayor and city council whose actions can be nullified by Congress, and with no voting representation in that Congress.

In fact, Congress accidentally slashed $1.1 billion from D.C.’s budget — our own money, not federal dollars! — in its cost-cutting frenzy last spring. A promised fix never came, forcing cuts that affect public safety and much else. And yet the city’s crime rate has continued to fall.

Compared with California, an economic juggernaut of more than 39 million people located thousands of miles from Washington, D.C. is a minuscule and all too convenient target for an executive aiming to prove his manhood, show off to autocrats in other countries or create headlines to distract from news he doesn’t like.

I could go off on Trump for his lies, overreach and disrespect for D.C. and its right to govern itself. Or the various Republicans who have imposed conservative policies on D.C. for years and now are trying to repeal its home rule law.

But what really enrages me is the lack of Democratic nerve — or even bravado — that has left D.C. so vulnerable to Trump and conservative-run Congresses. Where was the modern-day Lyndon Johnson (the “master of the Senate,” in Robert Caro’s phrase) in 2021, to whip support in the narrowly Democratic Senate after the House passed a D.C. statehood bill for the second year in a row?

Trump has no mastery beyond bullying and bribery — but those tactics are working fine with Congress, corporations, law firms, academia and sovereign nations across the globe. As former House Speaker Newt Gingrich put it last week: “You have this rock standing in the middle of history called Donald Trump. And he’s saying: ‘Do you want to do it my way, or do you want to be crushed? I prefer you do it my way, but if you have to be crushed, that’s OK.’ ”

Gingrich correctly characterized most responses to Trump as “You know, I’ve always wanted to be part of the team,” and added: “If he can sustain this, he’s moving into a league that, other than Washington and Lincoln, nobody has gotten to the level of energy, drive and effectiveness that we see with Trump.”

Unfortunately, Trump is aiming to speed-raze what Washington and Lincoln built. (He keeps claiming it’s “Liberation Day” for D.C., but the last “Liberation Day” — his April 2 tariff announcements — tanked the stock market.) The only conceivable antidote is to elect a mad-as-hell Democratic Congress in 2026 and, in 2028, an arm-twisting, strong-arming, terror-inspiring Democratic president who’s in a hurry to get things done. Someone who’s forceful, persuasive and resolved to use the power they have while they have it.

The top priorities, beyond reversing as much institutional and constitutional damage as possible, should be structural: Supreme Court term limits and ethics rules with teeth, a national gerrymandering ban, a sensible and uniform national voter ID policy, and minimum national standards for early voting and mail voting — to protect the will of the people and the republic itself.

Equally important, make D.C. the state of Douglass Commonwealth, named after the abolitionist Frederick Douglass rather than the colonizing Christopher Columbus. Rural America has wielded disproportionate power since the late 1800s, when Republicans added sparsely populated states and permanently skewed the Senate. Two new D.C. senators would help correct that imbalance.

The problem is that the next president, or even the next Congress, might arrive too late for D.C. Trump has already begun the federal takeover he has threatened so often for so many years. He took over the Kennedy Center. He took over Congress. We should have expected we’d be next.

Back in March, Rep. Jamie Raskin (D-Md.) proposed that D.C. seek temporary sanctuary with Maryland, which ceded most of the land to create the capital in the first place. “You’d definitely be safer,” he said he told Mayor Muriel Bowser.

That offer, joke or not, practical or not, is looking increasingly inviting by the day.

Jill Lawrence is a writer and author of “The Art of the Political Deal: How Congress Beat the Odds and Broke Through Gridlock.” @jilldlawrence.bsky.social

Gov. Gavin Newsom’s political ambitions have reached a new low. In his efforts to look like a “fighter” ahead of a potential run for the presidency in 2028, he’s willing to ignore democratic rules in pursuit of political aims, setting aside the state’s independent redistricting system to counter Texas Republicans’ proposed partisan gerrymander. Newsom and his allies want to maximize the number of California Democrats elected to Congress in next year’s midterm elections.

In 2008 and 2010, California voters passed ballot initiatives that gave the power to draw the state’s legislative and congressional district lines to the California Citizens Redistricting Commission, a 14-person independent body composed of five Democrats, five Republicans and four people who are registered with neither of the two major parties. Potential commissioners go through an extensive vetting and selection process (which the state Legislature participates in) and are prohibited from many forms of political activism, including donating to candidates, running for office or working for elected officials.

Since the latest redistricting, in 2021 — triggered as usual by the constitutionally mandated decennial census — the map crafted by the commission has survived legal and political challenges, and the current districts are set to be in place through the next round of redistricting in 2031.

Now Newsom wants to prematurely redraw the lines and craft his own partisan gerrymander for the November 2026 midterm elections, wresting control of the process away from the commission and giving it instead to the Democratic majority in the state Legislature. Last week, Newsom confirmed that he will call a special election to get voter approval for this end-run around the commission, but even dressed up with a vote, this is cynical politics, not democracy, at work.

Newsom’s excuse is the sudden partisan redistricting Texas Gov. Greg Abbott and President Trump are backing to increase the number of Republicans elected to Congress from that state, and in turn, to enhance the party’s chances to retain control of the U.S. House of Representatives.

California Assembly Speaker Robert Rivas (D-Hollister) calls the Texas action a “Trumpian power grab,” and Newsom assails it as the “rigging of the system by the president of the United States.” (Recent public opinion research conducted by Newsom’s pollster revealed that the public is more likely to support a California redistricting maneuver if the fight has Trump, not Texas, as the central villain.)

But two wrongs don’t make a right.

A key difference between the proposed line redrawing in Texas and the California plan is that the former, however brazen, is legal and precedented, while the latter specifically contravenes California law and the expressed will of the state’s voters. In Texas, legislators are entrusted with drawing district lines, and a mid-decade partisan gerrymander they executed in 2003, again to boost Republican representation in the U.S. House, was upheld by the U.S. Supreme Court (except for one district whose lines violated the Voting Rights Act).

But California voters explicitly placed the drawing of district lines in the hands of the independent citizens’ commission to take politicians out of the process. Commissioners draw district lines based on numerous factors, including laws, judicial decisions and population shifts. They’re bound by a basic rule: District lines cannot be drawn to purposefully benefit a specific party or candidate. And all the commission’s deliberations must happen in public. The maps they’ve devised have been criticized by both Democrats and Republicans; and that’s one of the many reasons why California voters entrusted the commission with this important power.

If Newsom gets his way, California’s districts for the 2026 midterm will ensure the election of as few Republicans as possible. Recent reports suggest that his gerrymander will mean Republicans win only four out of 52 House seats (9%), compared with the current California delegation, which includes nine Republicans (17%). Republicans make up about 25% of California’s registered voters and statewide Republican candidates have won roughly 40% of the vote over the last few election cycles.

The fact that Newsom’s plan returns the power to redistrict to the citizens commission after the midterms makes it no less a subversion of the democratically expressed will of California’s voters. To add insult to injury, the cost of the special election to ratify the scheme is estimated to be about $60 million in Los Angeles County alone, with statewide costs likely exceeding $200 million.

By bending electoral rules in service of their own political interests, Newsom and California Democrats become no better than Abbott and Texas Republicans. And Newsom’s hypocrisy strains the credibility of his argument that Trump and his allies are diminishing democracy.

If Newsom moves forward with his cynical plan, Californians will at least have the power to reject it at the ballot box this November. Voters should reinforce their commitment to minimizing the role of partisanship and politics in redistricting, and to the independent California Citizens Redistricting Commission.

Lanhee J. Chen, a contributing writer to Opinion, is an American public policy fellow at the Hoover Institution. He was a Republican candidate for California controller in 2022.

President Trump wants new congressional maps in Texas — now. Not in the next decade. Not after the next census. Not when it’s traditionally done. He wants it done smack dab in the middle of the decade.

Why the odd timing? Because he wants it done in time to help his presidency.

In Trump’s mind, Texas is a vending machine: insert redistricting, receive five shiny new Republican seats. “We are entitled to five more seats,” he declared on CNBC, his voice dripping with the royal “we” of someone who thinks democracy is nothing but a loyalty program.

This is merely the latest example of Trump’s fondness for procedural hardball. He recently sacked the Bureau of Labor Statistics commissioner for reporting job numbers he didn’t like. And his congressional minions just passed a bipartisan bill that required Democratic votes to get through, only to use budget “rescissions” to take back the Democratic priorities they never intended to fund.

Trump plays Calvinball with democracy — rules change mid-play, and he’s somehow always the one scoring.

And here’s the thing: It’s not illegal. “Not illegal” in the same way that drinking milk straight from the carton isn’t illegal — just gross, petty and an announcement to the room that you’re not interested in living by any mutually agreed-upon standards. (Trust me. I have teenagers.)

The Texas gambit, though, is utterly Trumpian in its ambitious recklessness. It might work. Or it might backfire and actually cost Republicans 2026 midterm seats. But either way, this aggression is radioactive.

Consider the immediate reaction. Texas Democrats, lacking the votes to block the move, fled the state entirely — denying Republicans the quorum they needed to conduct business.

This, in turn, was met with all the subtlety of a bounty hunt. The Texas House speaker signed civil arrest warrants for the missing lawmakers. The governor ordered state officials to search every warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse. (Just kidding. That was Tommy Lee Jones in “The Fugitive.” But, honestly, it’s a pretty close approximation.)

Powder keg vibes abound. What happens if and when a Texas lawman tries to slap cuffs on a Democrat in New York or California? Do we get a full-blown interstate standoff? A live cable news shootout of sheriffs and state troopers at the airport terminal gate?

Even if nothing that crazy happens, legislators making $600 a month are being fined $500 a day for their absence. And the governor has even threatened bribery charges against anyone helping them pay the fines.

But here’s where the escalation really kicks in. Even if the Texas Democrats fold and slink back to Austin (honestly, they don’t have much leverage), blue states are already eyeing retaliation.

California, New York, Illinois — they could all dust off the gerrymander machine to carve out extra Democratic seats. (Yes, some blue states handed map drawing to independent commissions, but power has a way of finding the crowbar it needs.)

This is mutually assured destruction with ballots instead of missiles.

And the kicker? After both sides squeeze every last seat out of their respective states, this whole exhausting mess could net Republicans one or two extra seats — or maybe none at all.

At this point, you might be wondering “How did we get here?”

I’m reminded of an old story — possibly true, probably apocryphal — about how circus elephants are trained.

When they’re babies (calves), elephants are chained to a stake they can’t pull up. They try and fail, and eventually they stop trying.

As adults, weighing several tons, they could walk away from the stake they are chained to at any time. But they don’t. They’ve learned the stake is “unbreakable.” Resistance is futile.

Trump is the elephant who never got that memo. To him, the stake — the norms, the Constitution, the institutions — is a suggestion, not a restraint.

The bigger problem? Everyone else has now seen Trump become unmoored from accountability — with impunity. They imagine they can do it, too.

Republicans who used to quietly admire their own prudent “restraint” now believe they just lacked imagination. And Democrats are starting to believe that playing nice equates to playing dead.

And so, the stakes are coming out of the ground everywhere.

We used to imagine there was an invisible line — one that politicians wouldn’t cross out of shame, duty or fear of the abyss.

Turns out, the abyss has a DJ and an open bar. The people hurtling toward it aren’t falling. They’re soaring.

Matt K. Lewis is the author of “Filthy Rich Politicians” and “Too Dumb to Fail.”

Donald Trump has it in for public education.

Don’t be fooled by last week’s release of DOE billions for the coming school year. Education Secretary Linda McMahon claimed that since the surprise decision in late June to withhold the funding, the government vetted all the programs to make sure they met President Trump’s approval. In reality, the White House was inundated by protests from both sides of the aisle, from teachers, parents and school superintendents all over the country. A week earlier, 24 states had filed suit against the administration for reneging on already appropriated education funding.

The reprieve will be temporary if the president has his way. Shuttering the Department of Education, and its funding priorities, was a marquee Trump campaign promise.

Already, about 2,000 DOE staff members have been fired or quit under duress. That’s half the agency’s personnel. On July 14, the Supreme Court lifted an injunction against the firings as lawsuits protesting the firings work their way through the courts. In essence, the ruling gives Trump a green light to destroy the department by executive fiat now, even if the Supreme Court later decides only Congress has that power.

The high court majority did not spell out its reasoning. In a dissenting opinion, Justice Sonia Sotomayor, writing for Justices Elena Kagan and Ketanji Brown Jackson, deplored the “untold harm” that will result from the ruling, including “delaying or denying educational opportunities and leaving students to suffer from discrimination, sexual assault and other civil rights violations without the federal resources Congress intended.”

McMahon touts what she considers her agency’s “final mission”: ending federal funding for school districts that cannot prove that they have eliminated diversity, equity and exclusion initiatives, or what Trump calls “critical race theory and transgender insanity.” The stakes are high: What’s at issue is the withdrawal of nearly $30 billion in aid.

The DEI threat rejects a 60-year bipartisan understanding — based on Title 1 of the 1965 Elementary and Secondary Education Act to the 2015 Every Student Succeeds Act — that Washington should invest federal taxpayer dollars in closing the achievement gap that separates privileged youth from poor and minority students and children living in poverty.

Those funds support smaller classes, after-school programs and tutoring. Research shows that Title 1 can claim credit for disadvantaged students’ improved performance on the National Assessment of Educational Progress — NAEP — the nation’s K-12 report card, which the administration is also targeting. The most innovative programs, including the Harlem Children’s Zone preschool, charter schools and after-school and summer-vacation programs and one-on-one, face-to-face learning through Tutoring Chicago, have recorded especially dramatic results.

Support for students with disabilities would also become history, along with the requirement that schools deliver “free and appropriate education” to youngsters with special needs. That would have a disastrous impact on these students, historically dismissed as hopeless, because needs-focused special education can change the arc of their lives.

In demanding that districts “prove” they have eliminated DEI as a condition for receiving federal funds, McMahon claims that focusing exclusively on “meaningful learning,” not “divisive [DEI] programs,” is the only way to improve achievement.

She’s flat-out wrong. DEI initiatives, while sometimes over the top, have generally proven to boost academic outcomes by reducing discrimination. That’s logical — when students feel supported and valued, they do better in school. Wiping out efforts designed to promote racial and economic fairness is a sure way to end progress toward eliminating the achievement gap.

Clearly, the studies that show the gains made by DEI programs are irrelevant to an administration whose decisions are driven by impulse and ideology. Its threats to the gold standard test of American education, NAEP — an assessment that’s about as nonpartisan as forecasting the weather — gives the game away. If you don’t know how well the public schools are doing, it’s child’s play to script a narrative of failure.

Tucked into Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act is a nationwide school voucher program, paid for by a 100% tax deduction for donations of up to $1,700 to organizations that hand out educational scholarships. There’s no cap on the program, which could cost as much as $50 billion a year, and no expiration date.

The voucher provision potentially decimates public schools, which will lose federal dollars. Since private schools can decide which students to admit and which to kick out, the gap between the haves and haves-less will widen. Students with special needs, as well as those whose families cannot afford to participate, will be out of luck.

What’s more, vouchers don’t deliver the benefits the advocates promise. Studies from Louisiana, where “low-quality private schools” have proliferated with the state’s blessing, as well as the District of Columbia and Indiana, show that students who participate in voucher plans do worse, especially in math, than their public-school peers.

Michigan State education policy professor Joshua Cowen, who has spent two decades studying these programs, reached the startling conclusion that voucher plans have led to worse student outcomes than the COVID pandemic.

Vouchers “promise an all-too-simple solution to tough problems like unequal access to high-quality schools, segregation and even school safety,” Cohen concludes. “They can severely hinder academic growth — especially for vulnerable kids.”

The defenders of public education are fighting back. Twenty states have gone to federal court to challenge the Department of Education’s demand that they eliminate their DEI programs. “The Trump administration’s threats to withhold critical education funding due to the use of these initiatives are not only unlawful, but harmful to our children, families, and schools,” said Massachusetts Atty. Gen. Andrea Joy Campbell, announcing the lawsuit.

The White House may well lose this lawsuit. But litigation consumes time, and the administration keeps finding ways to evade judicial rulings, sometimes with the help of the Supreme Court. It could be years before the judges reach final decisions in these cases, and by then the damage will have been done.

That’s why it is up to Congress to do its job — to represent its constituents, who have consistently supported compensatory education programs and special education programs in public schools, resisting the siren song of vouchers — and to insist that the administration obey the dictates of legislation that’s been on the books for decades.

Will a supine Congress rouse itself to protect public education? After all, that’s what the rule of law — and public education — requires.

David Kirp is professor emeritus at the Goldman School of Public Policy, UC Berkeley. He is the author of numerous books on education, including “The Sandbox Investment,” “Improbable Scholars” and “The Education Debate.”

Every recreational golfer of my generation has at least two things in common: We grew up revering Tiger Woods, and we know “Happy Gilmore,” the 1996 Adam Sandler golf comedy, like the back of our hands. Which millennial, while lining up a putt on the green, hasn’t told himself at some point to just “tap it in — give it a little tappy, a tap tap taparoo”? Who among us, before hitting a challenging tee shot, hasn’t at some point first closed his eyes and attempted to escape to his very own “happy place”? And above all, which of us hasn’t spent hours upon hours at the local driving range trying to master the craft that is protagonist Happy Gilmore’s signature running golf swing?

For all of us picking up the game once described by sports journalist John Feinstein as “a good walk spoiled,” Sandler’s character was a never-ending font of laughs and inspiration. Like so many others of my generation, then, I was very excited to watch “Happy Gilmore 2,” just released on Netflix on July 25. The sequel, 29 years in the making, didn’t have a script as instantly quotable as the original, nor was it as memorable. (Which film sequel, besides “The Godfather Part II” or “The Empire Strikes Back,” ever has been?) But “Happy Gilmore 2” still surpassed expectations: It was at times a bit silly, but it was still rollicking fun, replete with nostalgic flashbacks and a bevy of pro golfer cameos.

But it’s also more than that. It would be a mistake to dismiss the two movies as purely frivolous fare — good just for a few laughs. Rather, Sandler, long known for leading a private, low-key lifestyle that eschews the Hollywood limelight, has a specific message for Happy’s myriad fans: Family always comes first.

In the original film, Happy, a hockey fanatic whose weak skating skills inhibited his pro hockey aspirations, reluctantly takes up golf for one reason: to earn enough money to save his beloved grandmother’s home from a bank foreclosure and return her there from a hostile nursing home. Throughout the film, Happy emphasizes this as his sole motivation for biting his lips and suffering through what he calls “golf sissy crap.” Happy doesn’t particularly care about the game of golf. He’s just doing it for Grandma.

In the sequel, Happy, now considerably older and a father of five, has retired from golf and developed a bad drinking habit. A single father, he is struggling to make ends meet and provide for his daughter Vienna. Early in the film, Vienna’s dance instructor recommends that Happy enroll her in an advanced four-year ballet school in Paris, which would cost $75,000 annually. Happy senses that Vienna’s dream to dance ballet is similar to his old dream of playing hockey. With the encouragement of John Daly (one of many real-life pro golfers cast as themselves), he dusts off his old golf clubs and gives it a go again. Spoiler alert, without giving away too many of the specifics: The film has a happy ending for Happy’s family.

Clearly, this is not just about golf and laughs.

Sandler, a onetime registered and politically active Republican, is conveying to his audience a traditional conservative message: A life well lived is not a solipsistic one that exalts the self, but an altruistic one that places the interests of others above all else. These “others” are usually those closest to us — family members, older and younger generations alike, to whom we have obligations. You might notice that in both films, Happy plays golf only for others — not for himself.

Happy, who once fought to save the house his grandfather built, now finds himself trying to do right by the next generation. It is these relationships — with those who came before us and those who come after us — that give our lives meaning and purpose. And in “Happy Gilmore 2,” Sandler drives home that message in the most personal way possible: He casts his real-life wife and his two daughters — one as the aspiring ballerina.

The foul-mouthed, trash-talking rebel of golf, Happy Gilmore, is onto something important. Perhaps more of Sandler’s Hollywood colleagues ought to listen. They might learn something.

Josh Hammer’s latest book is “Israel and Civilization: The Fate of the Jewish Nation and the Destiny of the West.” This article was produced in collaboration with Creators Syndicate. @josh_hammer

If you’re still looking for someone to blame for Donald Trump’s 2024 reelection, don’t just look at the usual suspects — the MAGA die-hards, the QAnon crowd or your uncle screaming at Fox News. Consider the bros at your local gym’s squat rack, the Discord server or the gaming lounge who suddenly swung right — or, better yet, consider blaming the Democrats who decided those guys didn’t matter. Yeah, nice work, geniuses.

Recent focus groups conducted by the centrist Democratic group Third Way, with the polling firm HIT Strategies, show that many young men feel criticized, overlooked and talked down to by a party they see as hostile to their values and concerns. This echoes similar feedback from last fall, when young male voters told pollsters that the Democratic Party “has somehow become the anti-male party.”

If you’re wondering why this siege mentality hasn’t softened, it may be because the condescension and antagonism persist — especially among progressive elites whose statements are often conflated with the Democratic Party.

July alone offered a plethora of examples. And lest you think this is from the fever swamps of the internet, consider a few selections from the New York Times.

First, we got “The Boy Crisis Is Overblown,” which shrugs off boys’ educational struggles, instead suggesting that boys expect others (women) to pick up the slack, both at home and in school. Then came “The Trouble With Wanting Men,” a literary masterclass on how dating men amounts to unpaid emotional labor. And to round it out, “Why Women Are Weary of ‘Mankeeping,’” which blames men for … being human? Having different priorities than their girlfriends and wives?

See a pattern?

None of these pieces are entirely wrong. Boys and men are only human, and there are good guys and bad guys. But if you’re a dude just trying to stay afloat in a rapidly changing world, you might get the impression that the cultural left, which (let’s be honest) constitutes the Democratic Party’s base of energy and pressure, isn’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat.

And if you’re a guy, what do you do with all of that criticism? You check out. You find a podcast. You listen to some YouTuber explain how protein cured his depression and why you should never trust a woman who owns more than one NPR tote bag.

You exercise your greatest act of middle-finger rebellion: You vote for Trump!

Now, you might say, “Is it really fair to blame the entire Democratic Party for what a few writers say?” No! But politics isn’t about fairness. It’s about vibes, and the vibe right now is that progressive culture has morphed into the HR department from hell. Heck, even Sydney Sweeney in an American Eagle ad was too much for the online pitchfork crowd. What’s next? Canceling golden retrievers?

The problem for the Democratic Party is that once you’re branded a “woke scold,” it’s hard to pivot, no matter what you say.

Look at President Biden. He was called “Genocide Joe” for supporting Israel, yet still got blamed for pro-Palestinian campus protests — proof that stereotypes are sticky, and perception, not policy, drives voter sentiment.

But here’s the irony: Democrats have an opportunity to turn things around — and if their friends weren’t so busy writing gender theory op-eds, they might notice there’s an opening to do just that.

Thanks to issues ranging from tariffs to immigration roundups to the Jeffrey Epstein scandal, some of these podcast bros have started mocking Trump. Meanwhile, “South Park” skewered him for threatening lawsuits to intimidate or silence his critics, which is an impressive about-face considering he used to score points by criticizing cancel culture.

“While some of these young men are still drawn to Trump and the Republican Party,” Third Way’s focus groups found, “most are persuadable swing voters who dislike significant aspects of Trump’s actions so far in his second term.”

But it’s gonna take more than President Obama podcasting about “what’s right with young men.” It’s gonna take modern leaders — men and women — who have the guts to stand up to their own tribe and say, “Hey, maybe we shouldn’t treat half the population like defective appliances.”

Want their votes? Talk to them like they’re human. Stop acting like masculinity is a war crime. Nominate a presidential candidate who lifts and can go on Joe Rogan’s podcast. Offer some real policies that don’t sound like they were cooked up in a gender studies seminar at Bryn Mawr.

Until then? Don’t be shocked if a whole generation of guys hears one more lecture about toxic masculinity … and decides to vote for the most toxic guy in the room.

This is how Trump wins.

Matt K. Lewis is the author of “Filthy Rich Politicians” and “Too Dumb to Fail.”