Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, pictured speaking at the opening of the winter session of the Israeli parliament in October, has requested a presidential pardon in a series of political corruption cases. Photo by Abir Sultan/EPA
Nov. 30 (UPI) — Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has requested a pardon from President Isaac Herzog for a series of long running corruption charges.
Herzog’s office said the president would take the request under advisement and solicit input from justice officials before making a decision, which the office said “carries with it significant implications.”
Netanyahu has been standing trial for the past five years on charges of bribery, fraud and breach of trust related to three separate cases.
He said in a video message that he would have preferred to let the legal process play out, but that the national interest “demanded otherwise.” Netanyahu has denied wrongdoing.
His critics have said that Netanyahu should admit guilt before seeking a pardon.
Earlier this month, President Donald Trump urged Herzog to “fully pardon” Netanyahu.
Herzog had previously said that anyone seeking a presidential pardon in Israel was required to submit a formal request. Herzog has not said when he may reach a decision.
In 2020, Netanyahu became the first active Israeli prime minster to stand trial in a series of cases. In the first, he is alleged to have received cigars and champagne from business executives in exchange for political favors.
In another case, Netanyahu is accused of boosting circulation for an Israeli newspaper in exchange for positive coverage.
In a third, he is alleged to have promoted regulatory decisions that would benefit an Israeli telecoms company in exchange for coverage by an online news outlet.
He has pleaded not guilty to all of the charges and called the trials a “witch hunt” by his political opponents.
He said in Sunday’s video messages that the charges were falling apart and the incidents are damaging the country’s morale.
“I am certain, as are many others in the nation, that an immediate end to the trial would greatly help lower the flames and promote broad reconciliation — something our country desperately needs,” he said.
His critics, including a former deputy commander of the Israeli forces and left-wing politicians, have said that “only the guilty” seek pardons.
Presidential pardons in Israel have rarely been granted prior to a conviction, with a rare exception of a 1986 case that involved the Shin Bet security service. A pardon before a conviction in a political corruption case would be highly controversial in Israel, experts have said.
JACKSONVILLE, Fla. — Former U.S. Atty. Gen. Janet Reno, still weighing whether she’ll run for governor, said Saturday she considers it important to improve the image of politics.
Reno and four other potential Democratic gubernatorial candidates spoke at the Young Democrats Summer Convention as they test the waters to explore running to unseat Gov. Jeb Bush next year.
Reno said she expects to decide in the next six weeks on whether to run for governor. She called for improvements to the state education system, a health care system that works with the federal government and a ban on new oil drilling.
“Let us do everything we can to preserve that fragile, wonderful land for our children and their children, and on and on and on,” she said.
The governor’s race is expected to be one of the most closely watched next year, and many Democrats view Bush as vulnerable because of the state’s contested vote in last year’s presidential election.
State House Minority Leader Lois Frankel was the only announced gubernatorial candidate to attend.
“We need to get rid of Jeb Bush. He needs to be retired,” Frankel told the gathering of about 150 people. She said winning the election was also about “political payback.”
The gathering also included speeches from Tallahassee Mayor Scott Maddox and U.S. Rep. Jim Davis, both of whom are considering entering the race.
Davis, a three-term congressman from Tampa, said he expects to decide by Labor Day whether he will run for governor.
“This election is not about payback,” he said. “It’s not about getting even. This is about replacing Jeb Bush with leadership that is going to move the state forward.”
Maddox said he did not know if he would run.
“There are a lot of good ones out there,” he said.
Three possible Democratic hopefuls did not attend the convention. They were former U.S. ambassador to Vietnam Pete Peterson, a former Panhandle congressman; state Sen. Daryl Jones of Miami; and Tampa attorney Bill McBride.
A few weeks ago, Katie Porter’s campaign for California governor was reeling. A day after an irritable TV interview went viral, an old video surfaced of the former Orange County congresswoman cursing and berating one of her aides.
Around the same time, the race for U.S. Senate in Maine was shaken by a number of disturbing online posts. In them, Democratic hopeful Graham Platner disparaged police and Black people, among other crude remarks. Soon after, it was revealed Platner had a chest tattoo resembling a Nazi symbol.
Meanwhile, in Virginia, several old text messages swallowed attorney general nominee Jay Jones in a cumulus of controversy. The Democrat had joked about shooting the Republican leader of the state House and blithely spoken of watching his children die in their mother’s arms.
Once — say, 20 or 30 years ago — those blow-ups might have been enough to chase each of those embattled candidates from their respective races, and maybe even end their political careers altogether.
But in California, Porter has pressed on and remains in the top tier of the crowded gubernatorial field. In Maine, Platner continues to draw large, enthusiastic crowds and leads polling in the Democratic primary. In Virginia, Jones was just elected attorney general, defeating his Republican opponent by a comfortable margin.
Clearly, things have changed.
Actions that once caused eyes to widen, such as the recreational puffs of marijuana that cost appeals court judge Douglas Ginsburg a Supreme Court seat under President Reagan, now seem quaint. Personal indiscretions once seen as disqualifying, such as the extramarital affair that chased Gary Hart from the 1988 presidential race, scarcely raise an eyebrow.
Gary Hart quit the 1988 presidential race soon after reports surfaced of an extramarital affair. He later unsuccessfully jumped back into the contest.
(Getty Images)
And the old political playbook — confession, contrition, capitulation — is obviously no longer operative, as candidates find it not only possible but even advantageous to brazen their way through storms of uproar and opprobrium.
Bill Carrick has spent decades strategizing for Democratic office-seekers. A generation or so ago, if faced with a serious scandal, he would have told his candidate, “This is not going to be sustainable and you just better get out.” But now, Carrick said, “I would be very reluctant to tell somebody that, unless there was evidence they had murdered or kidnapped somebody, or robbed a bank.”
Kevin Madden, a veteran Republican communications strategist, agreed. Surrender has become passe. Survival is the new fallback mode.
“The one thing that many politicians of both parties have learned is that there is an opportunity to grind it out, to ride the storm out,” Madden said. “If you think a news issue is going viral or becoming the topic everyone’s talking about, just wait. A new scandal … or a new shiny object will be along.”
One reason for the changing nature of political scandal, and its prognosis, is the way we now take in information, both selectively and in bulk.
With the chance to personally curate their news feed — and reinforce their attitude and outlook — people can select those things they wish to know about, and choose those they care to ignore. With such fragmentation, it’s much harder for a negative storyline to reach critical mass. That requires a mass audience.
“A lot of scandals may not have the impact that they once had because people are in these silos or echo chambers,” said Scott Basinger, a University of Houston political scientist who’s extensively studied the nature of political scandal. “They may not even hear about it, if they don’t want to hear about it.”
The sheer velocity of information — “not only delivered to you on your doorstep, or at 6:30 p.m. by the three networks, but also in your pocket, in your hand at all times, across multiple platforms,” as Madden put it — also makes events more fleeting. That makes it harder for any one to penetrate deeply or resonate widely.
“In a world where there’s a wealth of information,” he said, “there’s a poverty of attention.”
Seven months after abruptly dropping out of the 1988 presidential race, Hart jumped back into the contest. “Let’s let the people decide,” he said, after confessing his marital sins.
(He also said in the same interview, a few months before relaunching his candidacy, that he had no intention of doing so.)
Hart did not fare well. Once he’d been the overwhelming front-runner for the Democratic nomination. As a reincarnated candidate, he trudged on for a few months before dropping out for good, having failed to secure a single convention delegate or win double-digit support in any contest.
“The people have decided,” he said, “and now I should not go forward.”
That’s how it should be.
Porter in California and Platner in Maine both faced calls to drop out of their respective races, with critics questioning their conduct and whether they had the right temperament to serve, respectively, as California governor or a U.S. senator. Each has expressed contrition for their actions. (As did Jones, Virginia’s attorney general-elect.)
Voters can take all that into account when they pick their candidate.
SACRAMENTO — Current and former members of Gov. Gavin Newsom’s administration were among the dozens of Sacramento insiders who received FBI letters in recent days notifying them that their phone calls, texts or other electronic communications had been intercepted as part of the federal corruption case tied to Dana Williamson and two other longtime Democratic operatives.
The notifications are routine in wiretap investigations once surveillance ends, but the letters set off a wave of panic across California’s political power structure. The letters are signed by Sacramento Field Office Special Agent in Charge Siddhartha Patel and began arriving in mailboxes from Sacramento to Washington, D.C., last week, according to copies of the communications shared with The Times.
The legal notifications, under the terms of the 1968 Federal Wiretap Act, are sent out routinely to people whose private communications have been captured on federal wiretaps.
A Newsom spokesperson said the governor’s office is aware that a limited number of the letters were sent to current and former members of the administration. The spokesperson said that the letters were expected given federal law requires parties to be notified. Newsom’s office said the governor did not receive a letter.
Newsom’s office said the governor is not involved in the case against Williamson. None of the charging documents released in the cases against the three aides mention Newsom.
Copies of the letters, which were provided to The Times by individuals who asked to remain anonymous, indicate the period of time the communications were intercepted ranged from May 2024 to the end of July of 2024.
“This letter does not necessarily mean you were the target of the investigation or that any criminal action will be taken against you,” Patel wrote in the letter. “Rather, the purpose of this letter is to notify you that some of your communications may have been intercepted during the course of the investigation.”
Williamson, known as one of California’s toughest political insiders who previously worked as chief of staff to Newsom, was arrested last week on federal charges that allege she siphoned $225,000 out of 2026 gubernatorial hopeful Xavier Becerra’s dormant state campaign account. She also was accused of spending $1 million on luxury handbags and high-flying travel and illegally declaring them as business expenses on her tax returns.
According to the 23-count indictment, Williamson conspired with Becerra’s former chief deputy in the California attorney general’s office and ex-chief of staff Sean McCluskie, along with lobbyist Greg Campbell to bill Becerra’s dormant campaign account for bogus consulting services.
Williamson has pleaded not guilty to the charges.
The highly publicized indictment against Williamson was sprinkled with references to her phone calls and text messages, indicating that federal investigators were likely relying on wiretapping. But the letters informing a wide swath of political insiders, from lobbyists to other operatives, is causing widespread anxiety across the Capitol.
The exact number of letters sent by the FBI is unknown, but political insiders say they’ve heard dozens of people have received one.
“It sends a chill up your spine, and everybody is worried,” said Democratic consultant Steve Maviglio, who said he did not receive a letter. “They can’t remember what they said to whom, about what. It could be anything. I think most people think this could be the tip of the iceberg. They are very concerned about where all these roads might lead.”
NEW YORK — Acceding to President Trump’s demands, U.S. Atty. Gen. Pam Bondi said Friday that she has ordered a top federal prosecutor to investigate sex offender Jeffrey Epstein’s ties to Trump political foes, including former President Clinton.
Bondi posted on X that she was assigning Manhattan U.S. Atty. Jay Clayton to lead the probe, capping an eventful week in which congressional Republicans released nearly 23,000 pages of documents from Epstein’s estate and House Democrats seized on emails mentioning Trump.
Trump, who was friends with Epstein for years, didn’t explain what supposed crimes he wanted the Justice Department to investigate. None of the men he mentioned in a social media post demanding the probe has been accused of sexual misconduct by any of Epstein’s victims.
Hours before Bondi’s announcement, Trump posted on his Truth Social platform that he would ask her, the Justice Department and the FBI to investigate Epstein’s “involvement and relationship” with Clinton and others, including former Treasury Secretary Larry Summers and LinkedIn founder and Democratic donor Reid Hoffman.
Trump, calling the matter “the Epstein Hoax, involving Democrats, not Republicans,” said the investigation should also include financial giant JPMorgan Chase, which provided banking services to Epstein, and “many other people and institutions.”
“This is another Russia, Russia, Russia Scam, with all arrows pointing to the Democrats,” the Republican president wrote, referring to special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation of alleged Russian interference in Trump’s 2016 election victory over Bill Clinton’s wife, former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.
Big names in Epstein’s emails
Trump, Bill Clinton, Summers and Hoffman were all mentioned in the documents released this week — a collection of emails Epstein exchanged with friends and business associates, news articles, book excerpts, legal papers and other material.
Epstein kept in touch with Summers and Hoffman via email, according to the documents, and wrote to other people about Trump and Clinton being in his company at various times over the years — though nothing in the messages suggested any wrongdoing on the men’s part.
Clinton has acknowledged traveling on Epstein’s private jet but has said through a spokesperson that he had no knowledge of the late financier’s crimes. Neither Clinton nor Trump has been accused of wrongdoing by any of the women who say Epstein abused them.
Summers, who served in Clinton’s Cabinet and is a former Harvard University president, previously said in a statement that he has “great regrets in my life” and that “my association with Jeffrey Epstein was a major error of judgment.”
Messages seeking comment were left for Hoffman through his investment firm, Greylock, and with a spokesperson for JPMorgan Chase.
After Epstein’s sex trafficking arrest in 2019, Hoffman said he’d had only a few interactions with Epstein, all related to his fundraising for MIT’s Media Lab. He nevertheless apologized, saying that “by agreeing to participate in any fundraising activity where Epstein was present, I helped to repair his reputation and perpetuate injustice.”
None of Epstein’s victims has accused Hoffman of misconduct.
Bondi, in her post, praised Clayton as “one of the most capable and trusted prosecutors in the country” and said the Justice Department “will pursue this with urgency and integrity to deliver answers to the American people.”
Clayton, the chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission during Trump’s first term, took over in April as U.S. attorney for the Southern District of New York — the same office that indicted Epstein and won a sex trafficking conviction against Epstein’s longtime confidante, Ghislaine Maxwell, in 2021.
Trump changes course on Epstein files
Trump has raised questions about Epstein’s death in jail a month after his arrest and suggested while campaigning last year that he’d seek to open up the government’s case files.
But Trump has changed course in recent months — blaming Democrats and painting the matter as a “hoax” — amid questions about his own friendship with Epstein and what knowledge he may have had about Epstein’s years-long exploitation of underage girls.
On Wednesday, Democrats on the House Oversight Committee released three Epstein email exchanges that referenced Trump, including one from 2019 in which Epstein said the president “knew about the girls” and another from 2011 in which he said Trump had “spent hours” at his house with a sex trafficking victim.
The emails did not say what Trump knew and did not give any details of what Trump did while at Epstein’s house. White House spokeswoman Karoline Leavitt accused Democrats of having “selectively leaked emails” to “create a fake narrative to smear President Trump.”
Soon after, Republicans on the committee disclosed what they said was an additional 20,000 pages of documents from Epstein’s estate. Among them were emails Epstein wrote, including many where he commented — often unfavorably — on Trump’s rise in politics and corresponded with journalists.
Other emails show Epstein keeping up friendly relationships with academic and business leaders, including Summers and Hoffman, well after he pleaded guilty in 2008 and served 13 months in jail for procuring a person under 18 for prostitution.
Epstein and Summers discussed politics, arranged calls with each other and spoke on more intimate matters, according to the emails, including about a woman Summers had interactions with. Epstein’s advice to him: “You care very much for this person. You might want to demonstrate that.”
California’s famous chronicler Carey McWilliams once wrote that some see “this highly improbable state” as more illusion than reality. Perhaps that explains its residents’ perpetual efforts to shake things up and break away — either from the national government or each other.
Since 1849, more than 200 efforts have imagined a political do-over to the idea of California as a single, sprawling American state. Every attempt has failed.
“All major social and political movements in this country take time and inevitably have to overcome failures and setbacks before they are ultimately successful,” Louis Marinelli, the latest provocateur with secessionist dreams, told The Times in an email.
What may be most striking is that anyone would assume there’s a shared state identity, when Californians more often have tried to go their separate ways.
State lawmakers sent their first breakup plan to Congress in 1859, but it was squashed by the onset of the Civil War. The equally unlucky, but colorful, Yreka Rebellion of 1941 saw a handful of Northern California counties join grumpy southern Oregonians to propose a new state called “Jefferson.” They threw a big party in Siskiyou County’s biggest town, Yreka, on Dec. 4, 1941.
Three days later, after the infamous attack on Pearl Harbor, secession fever subsided.
(Anthony Russo / For The Times )
As the song says, breaking up is hard to do. There was a 1965 failed legislative effort to create the nation’s 51st state with a dividing line at the Tehachapi Mountains that span Los Angeles and Kern counties, revisited and dismissed in 1978. And then, the early 1990s plan for an advisory ballot measure to gauge voter interest in splitting California into three states.
“I can’t guarantee a perfect world, but I know that divided, more homogeneous Californias will be better than the gridlocks we have now,” Stan Statham, then a Republican state assemblyman, said in a 1993 Times story. Alas, his proposal died in the state Senate.
A 2009 plan would’ve carved California into separate coastal and inland U.S. states, presumably one favored by Democrats and one by Republicans. The idea was recycled in 2011 by state Sen. Jeff Stone (R-Temecula) while he was a Riverside County supervisor.
Few efforts garnered as much attention, or derision, as the 2014 campaign by Silicon Valley entrepreneur Tim Draper to create six states out of California, with names like “Silicon Valley” and “West California.”
No secession effort has answered the practical questions — how to negotiate water rights, divvy up the existing state’s assets, pay for border security, just for starters. Still, it often sparks valuable public policy discussions.
How sustainable is it when the Bay Area’s per capita income is more than double that in the Central Valley? Why is poverty pocketed in a handful of regions? Does California, home to much of America’s recent job growth, get what it deserves from the federal government?
Those concerns may trigger bouts of secessionist fever, but few would dispute that they’re also a good start on a to-do list for California’s state and national leaders as 2017 comes into view.
When Nancy Pelosi first ran for Congress, she was one of 14 candidates, the front-runner and a target.
At the time, Pelosi was little known to San Francisco voters. But she was already a fixture in national politics. She was a major Democratic fundraiser, who helped lure the party’s 1984 national convention to her adopted home town. She served as head of California’s Democratic Party and hosted a salon that was a must-stop for any politician passing through.
She was the chosen successor of Rep. Sala Burton, a short-timer who took over the House seat held for decades by her late husband, Philip, and who delivered a personal benediction from her deathbed.
But at age 49, Pelosi had never held public office — she was too busy raising five kids, on top of all that political moving and shaking — and opponents made light of role as hostess. “The party girl for the party,” they dubbed her, a taunt that blared from billboards around town.
She obviously showed them.
Pelosi not only made history, becoming the nation’s first female speaker of the House. She became the party’s spine and its sinew, holding together the Democrat’s many warring factions and standing firm at times the more timorous were prepared to back down.
The Affordable Care Act — President Obama’s signature achievement — would never have passed if Pelosi had not insisted on pressing on when many, including some in the White House, wished to surrender.
She played a significant role in twice helping rescue the country from economic collapse — the first time in 2009 amid the Great Recession, then in 2020 during the shutdown caused by the COVID-19 pandemic — mustering recalcitrant Democrats to ensure House passage.
“She will go down in history as one of the most important speakers,” James Thurber, a congressional expert at Washington’s American University, said. “She knew the rules, she knew the process, she knew the personalities of the key players, and she knew how to work the system.”
Pelosi’s announcement Thursday that she will not seek reelection — at age 85, after 38 years in Congress — came as no surprise. She saw firsthand the ravages that consumed her friend and former neighbor, Dianne Feinstein. (Pelosi’s eldest daughter, Nancy, was a last caretaker for the late senator.)
Pelosi, who was first elected in 1987, once said she never expected to serve in Congress more than 10 years. She recalled seeing a geriatric House member hobbling on a cane and telling a colleague, “It’s never going to be me. I’m not staying around that long.”
(She never used a cane, but did give up her trademark stiletto heels for a time after suffering a fall last December and undergoing hip replacement surgery.)
Pelosi had intended to retire sooner, anticipating Hillary Clinton would be elected president in 2016 and seeing that as a logical, and fitting, end point to her trailblazing political career. “I have things to do. Books to write; places to go; grandchildren, first and foremost, to love,” she said in a 2018 interview.
However, she was determined to stymie President Trump in his first term and stuck around, emerging as one of his chief nemeses. After Joe Biden was elected, Pelosi finally yielded the speaker’s gavel in November 2022.
But she remained a substantive figure, still wielding enormous power behind the scenes. Among other quiet maneuvers, she was instrumental in helping ease aside Biden after his disastrous debate performance sent Democrats into a panic. He was a personal friend, and long-ago guest at her political salon, but Pelosi anticipated a down-ticket disaster if Biden remained the party’s nominee. So, in her estimation, he had to go.
It was the kind of ruthlessness that gave Pelosi great pride; she boasted of a reptilian cold-bloodedness and, indeed, though she shared the liberal leanings of her hometown, Pelosi was no ideologue. That’s what made her a superb deal-maker and legislative tactician, along with the personal touch she brought to her leadership.
“She had a will of steel, but she also had a lot of grace and warmth,” said Thurber, “and that’s not always the case with speakers.”
History-making aside, Pelosi left an enduring mark on San Francisco, the place she moved to from Baltimore as a young mother with her husband, Paul, a financier and real estate investor. She brought home billions of dollars for earthquake safety, re-purposing old military facilities — the former Presidio Army base is a spectacular park — funding AIDS research and treatment, expanding public transit and countless other programs.
Her work in the 1980s and 1990s on AIDS funding was crucial in helping move discussion of the disease from the shadows — where it was viewed as a plague that mainly struck gay men and drug users — to a pressing national concern.
In the process, she become a San Francisco institution, as venerated as the Golden Gate Bridge and beloved as the city’s tangy sourdough bread.
“She’s an icon,” said Aaron Peskin, a former San Francisco County supervisor and 2024 candidate for mayor. “She walks into a room, people left, right and center, old, young, white, Black, Chinese stand on their feet. She’s one of the greatest speakers we have ever had and this town understands that.”
Pelosi grew up in Baltimore in a political family. He father, Tommy D’Alesandro, was a Democratic New Deal congressman, who went on to serve three terms as mayor. “Little Nancy” stuffed envelopes — as her own children would — passed out ballots and often traveled by her father’s side to campaign events. (D’Alesandro went on to serve three terms as mayor; Pelosi’s brother, Tommy III, held the job for a single term.)
David Axelrod, who saw Pelosi up close while serving as a top aide in the Obama White House, said he once asked her what she learned growing up in such a political household. “She didn’t skip a beat,” Axelrod said. “She said, ‘I learned how to count.’ ”
Meaning when to call the roll on a key legislative vote and when to cut her losses in the face of inevitable defeat.
Pelosi is still so popular in San Francisco she could well have eked out yet another reelection victory in 2026, despite facing the first serious challenge since that first run for Congress. But the campaign would have been brutal and potentially quite ugly.
More than just about anyone, Pelosi knows how to read a political situation with dispassion, detachment and cold-eyed calculation.
CHEYENNE, Wyo. — Political stars often rise and fall but few have had a more dramatic trajectory than Dick Cheney in his home state of Wyoming.
Hours after Cheney died Tuesday at 84, the state lowered flags at the Republican governor’s order. Some politicians in the state offered at times measured praise of the former vice president.
But among a large majority of voters in Wyoming, Cheney has been persona non grata for more than five years now, his reputation brought down amid President Trump’s withering politics.
Trump has criticized Cheney for the drawn-out and costly Iraq war, and his daughter, former Republican Rep. Liz Cheney, for saying Trump should never be allowed back in the White House after the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol.
This resonated with many residents, including Jeanine Stebbing, of Cheyenne, whose last straw was the idea that Trump shouldn’t be reelected.
“There was no open-mindedness. Nothing about how, ‘We understand that our neighbors here are supportive of Trump.’ Just the idea that we were all stupid, is what it felt like,” Stebbing said Tuesday.
The final blow for the Cheney family in Wyoming came in 2022, when Trump supported ranching attorney Harriet Hageman to oppose Liz Cheney for a fourth term as the state’s U.S. representative.
Hageman got two-thirds of the vote in the Republican primary, a decisive win in a state with so few Democrats that the general election is considered inconsequential for major races.
Trump’s biggest gripe, ultimately, was that Liz Cheney voted to impeach him, then co-led the congressional investigation into his role in the attack. In Wyoming, a prevailing belief was Liz Cheney seemed more focused on taking down Trump than on representing the state.
“I was very disappointed that, you know, somebody who came from this state would be so adamantly blind to anything other than what she wanted to do. And he joined in as well,” Stebbing said.
Not even Dick Cheney’s endorsement of his daughter over Hageman — and of Kamala Harris over Trump last year — made a difference, as Trump’s appeal in Wyoming only grew. Trump won Wyoming by more than any other state in 2016, 2020 and 2024, the year of his biggest margin in the state.
Some expressed sadness that George W. Bush’s vice president would not be remembered well by so many in the state.
“On the 16th anniversary of my own father’s death today, I can appreciate a father who stood by his daughter, which he did loyally and truthfully,” said Republican state Sen. Tara Nethercott, who is Senate majority floor leader. “He stood by his daughter during those difficult times.”
Nethercott wouldn’t speculate if Liz Cheney might yet have a political future. Wyoming’s support of Trump “speaks volumes,” she said.
Liz Cheney has continued to live in Jackson Hole, near her parents, while traveling back and forth to Charlottesville to teach at the University of Virginia Center for Politics.
For Brian Farmer — who, like Dick Cheney, grew up in Casper and went to the University of Wyoming — Cheney’s legacy will be his service to the state, no matter where people stand on issues.
“He was always somebody whose path I looked at, sought to follow. Very quiet, soft-spoken at times, Very bombastic and loud at others,” said Farmer, executive director of the Wyoming School Boards Association.
Cheney had a 30-year career in politics, from serving as President Gerald Ford’s young chief of staff to representing Wyoming in Congress in the 1980s. He rose to a top GOP leadership role in Congress — one his daughter, too, would later fill — before being named President George H.W. Bush’s defense secretary.
After his time in office, the CEO of oilfield services company Halliburton kept active in state politics, voicing support and even stumping for Republican candidates.
And yet Cheney was so low-key and unassuming, his mere presence was the whole point — not the nice things he had to say, for example, about former Gov. Jim Geringer, who handily won reelection in 1998.
“You talk about people walking into a room and commanding it. That man did it without even speaking a word,” said state Rep. Landon Brown, a Cheyenne Republican who met him several times including at University of Wyoming football games.
“He’s going to be sincerely missed in this state,” he said. “Maybe not by everybody.”
When it comes to Proposition 50, Marcia Owens is a bit fuzzy on the details.
She knows, vaguely, it has something to do with how California draws the boundaries for its 52 congressional districts, a convoluted and arcane process that’s not exactly top of the mind for your average person. But Owens is abundantly clear when it comes to her intent in Tuesday’s special election.
“I’m voting to take power out of Trump’s hands and put it back in the hands of the people,” said Owens, 48, a vocational nurse in Riverside. “He’s making a lot of illogical decisions that are really wreaking havoc on our country. He’s not putting our interests first, making sure that an individual has food on the table, they can pay their rent, pay electric bills, pay for healthcare.”
Peter Arensburger, a fellow Democrat who also lives in Riverside, was blunter still.
President Trump, said the 55-year-old college professor, “is trying to rule as a dictator” and Republicans are doing absolutely nothing to stop him.
So, Arensburger said, California voters will do it for them.
Or at least try.
“It’s a false equivalency,” he said, “to say that we need to do everything on an even keel in California, but Texas” — which redrew its political map to boost Republicans — “can do whatever they want.”
A reasoned attempt to even things out in response to Texas’ attempt to nab five more congressional seats. Or a ruthless gambit to drive the California GOP to near-extinction.
It all depends on your perspective.
Above all, Proposition 50 has become a political ink-blot test; what many California voters see depends on, politically, where they stand.
Mary Ann Rounsavall thinks the measure is “horrible,” because that’s how the Fontana retiree feels about its chief proponent, Gavin Newsom.
“He’s a jerk,” the 75-year-old Republican fairly spat, as if the act of forming the governor’s name left a bad taste in her mouth. “No one believes anything he says.”
Timothy, a fellow Republican who withheld his last name to avoid online trolls, echoed the sentiment.
“It’s just Gavin Newsom playing political games,” said the 39-year-old warehouse manager, who commutes from West Covina to his job at a plumbing supplier in Ontario. “They always talk about Trump. ‘Trump, Trump, Trump.’ Get off of Trump. I’ve been hearing this crap ever since he started running.”
Riverside and San Bernardino counties form the heart of the Inland Empire. The next-door neighbors are politically purple: more Republican than the state as a whole, but not as conservative as California’s more rural reaches. That means neither party has an upper hand, a parity reflected in dozens of interviews with voters across the sprawling region.
On a recent smoggy morning, the hulking San Bernardino Mountains veiled by a gray-brown haze, Eric Lawson paused to offer his thoughts.
The 66-year-old independent has no use for politicians of any stripe. “They’re all crooks,” he said. “All of them.”
Lawson called Proposition 50 a waste of time and money.
Gerrymandering — the dark art of drawing political lines to benefit one party over another — is, as he pointed out, hardly new. (In fact, the term is rooted in the name of Elbridge Gerry, one of the nation’s founders.)
What has Lawson particularly steamed is the cost of “this stupid election,” which is pushing $300 million.
“We talk and talk and talk and we print money for all this talk,” said Lawson, who lives in Ontario and consults in the auto industry. “But that money doesn’t go where it’s supposed to go.”
Although sentiments were evenly split in those several dozen conversations, all indications suggest that Proposition 50 is headed toward passage Tuesday, possibly by a wide margin. After raising a tidal wave of cash, Newsom last week told small donors that’s enough, thanks. The opposition has all but given up and resigned itself to defeat.
It comes down to math. Proposition 50 has become a test of party muscle and a talisman of partisan faith and California has a lot more Democrats and Democrat-leaning independents than Republicans and GOP-leaning independents.
Andrea Fisher, who opposes the initiative, is well aware of that fact. “I’m a conservative,” she said, “in a state that’s not very conservative.”
She has come to accept that reality, but fears things will get worse if Democrats have their way and slash California’s already-scanty Republican ranks on Capitol Hill. Among those targeted for ouster is Ken Calvert, a 16-term GOP incumbent who represents a good slice of Riverside County.
“I feel like it’s going to eliminate my voice,” said Fisher, 48, a food server at her daughter’s school in Riverside. “If I’m 40% of the vote” — roughly the percentage Trump received statewide in 2024 — “then we in that population should have fair representation. We’re still their constituents.” (In Riverside County, Trump edged Kamala Harris 49% to 48%.)
Amber Pelland says Proposition 50 will hurt voters by putting redistricting back into the hands of politicians.
(Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times)
Amber Pelland, 46, who works in the nonprofit field in Corona, feels by “sticking it to Trump” — a tagline in one of the TV ads supporting Proposition 50 — voters will be sticking it to themselves. Passage would erase the political map drawn by an independent commission, which voters empowered in 2010 for the express purpose of wrestling redistricting away from self-dealing lawmakers in Washington and Sacramento.
“I don’t care if you hate the person or don’t hate the person,” said Pelland, a Republican who backs the president. “It’s just going to hurt voters by taking the power away from the people.”
Even some backers of Proposition 50 flinched at the notion of sidelining the redistricting commission and undoing its painstaking, nonpartisan work. What helps make it palatable, they said, is the requirement — written into the ballot measure — that congressional redistricting will revert to the commission after the 2030 census, when California’s next set of congressional maps is due to be drafted.
“I’m glad that it’s temporary because I don’t think redistricting should be done in order to give one political party greater power over another,” said Carole, a Riverside Democrat. “I think it’s something that should be decided over a long period and not in a rush.” (She also withheld her last name so her husband, who serves in the community, wouldn’t be hassled for her opinion, she said.)
Texas, Carole suggested, has forced California to act because of its extreme action, redistricting at mid-decade at Trump’s command. “It’s important to think about the country as a whole,” said the 51-year-old academic researcher, “and to respond to what’s being done, especially with the pressure coming from the White House.”
Felise Self-Visnic, a 71-year-old retired schoolteacher, agreed.
She was shopping at a Trader Joe’s in Riverside in an orange ball cap that read “Human-Kind (Be Both).” Back home, in her garage-door window, is a poster that reads “No Kings.”
She described Proposition 50 as a stopgap measure that will return power to the commission once the urgency of today’s political upheaval has passed. But even if that wasn’t the case, the Democrat said, she would still vote in favor.
“Anything,” Self-Visnic said, “to fight fascism, which is where we’re heading.”
