wealth

The top 1 percent in Peru captured 42 percent of all new wealth generated between 2019 and 2025, an analysis by the nonprofit group Oxfam has found.

The report, released on Tuesday, highlights growing inequality in the South American country and raises questions about how the government is addressing deepening social divisions.

“Economic inequality in Peru has remained stubbornly high for decades. And when people feel that the same people always win, that nothing changes and nothing can change, inequality starts to look less like an injustice and more like the natural order of things,” said Alejandra Alayza, the executive director of Oxfam in Peru.

“That is a dangerous kind of fatalism, and we must tear it down.”

The nonprofit told Al Jazeera in an email that the 42 percent figure represents an increase from the 2000 to 2019 period, when the top 1 percent captured about 39 percent of all new wealth.

Just 1.4 percent of new wealth from 2019 to 2025 went to the poorest 50 percent of the country’s population, according to the group.

Experts warn the trend bodes poorly for public faith in government and democratic institutions.

Oxfam worked with the Institute for Peruvian Studies, a think tank in Lima, to publish a report this month on Peruvians’ perceptions of inequality in their country.

The groups found that 84 percent of Peruvians believed their country is governed by powerful interests that shape politics to their benefit. More than 75 percent also said that wealthy corporations and individuals avoid paying their fair share of taxes.

The survey also suggested that public opinion was in favour of action to address the issue.

About 70 percent of respondents said they want the government to do more to reduce inequality, which a majority felt had limited access to services such as healthcare, employment, education and justice.

“The undeniable scale of public support for action to reduce inequality leaves no room for complacency,” Alayza said.

“Inequality is not a force of nature; it is made by political choices. And different choices can build a different Peru.”

Political instability

Peru’s rising inequality has been accompanied by a period of political turmoil, particularly in the presidential palace.

A stream of probes, scandals and impeachments has led to Peru being governed by nine presidents in the last 10 years.

The latest, right-wing President Keiko Fujimori, was sworn into office in July after a narrow race that saw voting delays and heated recriminations among the leading candidates.

Experts believe powerful interests have found opportunity amid the political tumult.

“It’s sort of a paradox. How can you have such a rotation among elites but still have a relatively narrow political-criminal-business elite that holds a lot of power? I think both things are true in Peru,” Will Freeman, a fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, a US-based think tank, told Al Jazeera.

Part of the political upheaval has come from clashes between the presidency and Peru’s powerful Congress, which has the power to impeach executive leaders on the basis of “moral incapacity”, an ambiguous term.

The repeated leadership shakeups have weakened Peru’s democracy, according to analysts.

In December 2022, for instance, then-President Pedro Castillo announced that he would illegally dissolve Congress in response to repeated attempts to impeach him.

His subsequent removal and arrest prompted widespread protests. The government of Castillo’s successor, Dina Boluarte, implemented a months-long crackdown on the demonstrations that rights groups say included widespread abuses for which there has been little accountability.

In the years since, the Peruvian government has also taken steps to weaken judicial oversight and hollow out anticorruption watchdogs.

The nonprofit Freedom House, which measures political freedom in countries around the world, ranked Peru as “free” in 2022. But its ranking dropped the following year to “partly free”, in light of the deadly clashes between security forces and protesters.

In its 2026 report, Freedom House maintained that Peru was only “partly free”, citing in part the denial of full political rights to certain groups, including Indigenous peoples.

“High-profile corruption scandals have eroded public trust in government, and the weakening of judicial independence has impacted the country’s governing bodies,” the nonprofit said.

Powerful interests, both licit and illicit, have taken advantage of those changes.

“The groups themselves are unstable and fluid,” said Freeman. “And yet, I think Peruvians are right to conclude that, generally, they are wielding outsized influence in defence of their own commercial interests or political power rather [than] in service of some kind of general welfare.”

ANCHORAGE — He wielded extraordinary power in Washington for more than three decades, eventually holding sway over nearly $800 billion a year in federal spending.

But outside the halls of the U.S. Senate, which is a world of personal wealth so rarified some call it “the Millionaires’ Club,” Sen. Ted Stevens (R- Alaska) had struggled financially.

Then, in 1997, he got serious about making money. And in almost no time, he too was a millionaire — thanks to investments with businessmen who received government contracts or other benefits with his help.

Added together, Stevens’ new partnerships and investments provide a step-by-step guide to building a personal fortune — if you happen to be one of the country’s most influential senators.

They also illustrate how lax ethics rules allow members of Congress and their families to profit from personal business dealings with special interests.

Among the ways that Stevens became wealthy:

– Armed with the power his committee posts give him over the Pentagon, Stevens helped save a $450-million military housing contract for an Anchorage businessman. The same businessman made Stevens a partner in a series of real estate investments that turned the senator’s $50,000 stake into at least $750,000 in six years.

– An Alaska Native company that Stevens helped create got millions of dollars in defense contracts through preferences he wrote into law. Now the company pays $6 million a year to lease an office building owned by the senator and his business partners. Stevens continues to push legislation that benefits the company.

– An Alaskan communications company benefited from the senator’s activities on the Commerce Committee. His wife, Catherine, earned tens of thousands of dollars from an inside deal involving the company’s stock.

Stevens, in a written response to questions submitted by The Times, said that in all these cases his official actions were motivated by a desire to help Alaska, and that he played no role in the day-to-day management of the ventures into which he put money.

“I am a passive investor,” Stevens said of his real estate dealings. “I am not now nor have I been involved in buying or selling properties, negotiating leases or making other management decisions.”

All in the Family

In these deals and others, Stevens’ brother-in-law, William H. Bittner, played a pivotal role. An Anchorage lawyer and lobbyist, Bittner represents major business interests for whom the senator has repeatedly gone to bat. In one instance, Stevens engineered a $9.6-million federal appropriation that chiefly benefited a Bittner client, part of South Korea’s Hyundai conglomerate.

Stevens tucked a single line into a must-pass appropriations bill that used federal tax dollars to buy the company out of a coal-loading facility in Seward.

Stevens said he did it to lower the company’s costs and keep it from canceling an agreement to buy Alaskan coal. Bittner did not respond to questions from The Times.

Stevens’ relationship with Bittner fits an increasingly widespread pattern in Washington: Senior senators do favors for special interests that pay hundreds of thousand of dollars in lobbying and consulting fees to the senators’ children, spouses and other relatives.

As The Times documented in a series of articles in the summer, Sens. John B. Breaux (D-La.), Trent Lott (R-Miss.) and Orrin G. Hatch (R- Utah) did favors for companies and groups that paid their sons as lobbyists and consultants. Sen. Harry Reid (D-Nev.) has pushed through federal land trades and other provisions benefiting Nevada interests that employ his sons and son-in-law.

The Times also reported that Stevens had continually supported interests that paid his youngest son, Ben, hundreds of thousands of dollars as a consultant.

The senators all said their decisions on policy issues and legislation had not been influenced by their relatives.

But Stevens’ dealings have carried him a step further. His official actions have helped individuals and companies from which he himself draws financial benefits, a six-month Times examination found.

His required financial statements have fallen short of complete disclosure — especially on the activities of a small investment corporation owned by his wife and her family, a company that is covered by the reporting rules.

The Senate has few ethics rules governing such arrangements. Although accepting expensive gifts and speaking fees is banned, the conflict-of-interest rules are much less explicit. For example, nothing clearly bars a senator from sponsoring legislation that benefits the clients of family members who lobby. Nor are lawmakers prohibited from going into business with people receiving legislative favors.

Mainly, the Senate relies on an ill-defined injunction not to bring shame upon the body.

Senate Ethics Committee Chairman George Voinovich (R- Ohio) declined to discuss the issues raised by The Times articles.

House Ethics Committee Chairman Joel Hefley (R-Colo.) said he hoped to convene an advisory panel of current and former House Ethics Committee members next year to examine a range of ethics questions, including how to address the issue of lobbying by relatives.

“I do think we ought to revisit this,” he said. He declined to comment on the issue of lawmakers’ financial partners.

Lawmakers should be careful about their business relationships, John D. Saxon, a former Senate Ethics Committee counsel, said, speaking generally and not about Stevens in particular.

“It’s a very slippery slope for a member of Congress to be entangled with someone in a business dealing and then use their official position to help them, even if it’s on something completely different,” he said.

‘Stevens Money’

Today, Stevens is the longest-serving Republican in the Senate, and as president pro tempore stands just behind the vice president and the speaker of the House in the constitutional line of succession to the Oval Office.

For more than 20 years, he has been chairman or ranking member of the Senate’s Defense Appropriations Subcommittee. Since 1997, he has been chairman or ranking member of the full Appropriations Committee, which must approve every dollar of federal discretionary spending each year.

Stevens’ position as a senior member of the Commerce Committee adds to his clout — especially in telecommunications policy, which is under the committee’s jurisdiction.

In Alaska, Stevens exerts unparalleled influence. No state is so dependent on federal dollars and decisions. The federal government still owns 60% of all its land, generates one-third of all jobs, and holds the keys to economic growth through regulation of its major industries — oil and gas, fishing, timber and tourism.

Federal spending in Alaska, known locally as “Stevens money,” runs as much as 70% above the national average on a per capita basis.

Since his first day in the Senate in 1968, Stevens has delivered for Alaska.

He has won tax breaks for Native businesses, bailouts for fishermen, a pipeline for an oil consortium and restoration of an abandoned Army post as a tourist attraction for a Yukon village.

He got $28 million for a rail terminal open only during the summer and $40 million for a commercial space satellite facility.

Almost every institution, region and segment of the population in the state has benefited from Stevens’ efforts, from its schools and social programs to its transportation system, its urban areas and the far-flung villages of Alaska’s Native peoples.

But during the period Stevens has grown wealthy, some longtime supporters say, the senator has become less willing to hear their views.

“I’ve been here a long time, and always had a great deal of respect for Sen. Stevens’ enormous power and the good he’s done for Alaska,” Terry Haines, a veteran commercial fisherman from Kodiak Island, said recently. “But lately he’s become extremely rigid and doesn’t seem to be listening to his constituents much.”

Hard Times

Theodore Fulton Stevens was born Nov. 18, 1923, in Indianapolis. At the outset of the Great Depression, when Stevens was 6 years old, his parents divorced, according to his campaign biography.

Stevens went to live with his grandparents after the divorce, helping out by selling newspapers and working evenings and weekends in a drugstore. He later moved in with an aunt and uncle in Manhattan Beach, Calif., where he graduated from high school. Both his father and grandfather died of cancer, Stevens has said.

Stevens joined the Army Air Corps during World War II, flying cargo planes “over the Hump” in the Himalayas — some of the most dangerous missions of the war. He won two Distinguished Flying Crosses and two Air Medals, his biography says.

The biography describes how he graduated from UCLA and Harvard Law School. After working in the 1952 Eisenhower campaign, he was hired by a Washington lawyer, but soon took a new job as a lawyer in Alaska, which was still a territory.

He played a leading role in the successful campaign for statehood, but Alaska’s voters rejected Stevens the first two times he ran for the Senate.

Winning a seat in the state Legislature, he became House majority leader and go-to man for Gov. Walter J. Hickel. In 1968, when Sen. E.L. “Bob” Bartlett died unexpectedly, Hickel picked his ally to fill the vacancy.

In the Senate at last, Stevens worked hard to master legislative details and committee politics.

But increasing political success was accompanied by personal tragedy.

In 1978, his first wife, Ann, died along with four others when the executive jet carrying them home crashed at the Anchorage airport. Stevens was one of two survivors.

At that point, the Stevens’ five children were adults. Two years later, he remarried, and soon had a daughter, Lily, who recently graduated from college.

In the 1980s, Stevens and his new wife, the former Catherine Bittner, suffered a serious financial reversal.

Along with her younger brother, William Bittner, and other partners, Stevens invested in the construction of a $2-million crab boat, records show. Before it was finished, costs soared and the crab market crashed, plunging Stevens into debt.

The unexpected inheritance of a 54-foot yacht helped Stevens to regain his financial footing. Records show the boat was a bequest from the late Charles Willis “Bill” Snedden, publisher of the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, a longtime friend of Stevens’. Stevens sold the boat for about $400,000, according to a source involved in the transaction who did not want to be named.

Stevens’ financial problems underscored the disparity between his personal situation and that of his wealthy Senate colleagues.

In a news interview in the late 1980s, he lashed out at Alaska voters for failing to appreciate the personal and financial sacrifices he had made for them.

A $50,000 Investment

In 1997, Stevens began making up for lost time.

“Money was never what Ted Stevens was about,” one close associate said of Stevens’ sudden focus on accumulating wealth. The associate attributed it to Stevens’ age — he turned 80 last month — and to concern about his family.

Whatever the reasons for the change, sometime in 1997 — acting at the senator’s request — brother-in-law Bittner contacted a friend, Anchorage real estate developer Jonathan B. Rubini, about investment opportunities for the senator, Rubini said.

At the time, Stevens was making about $130,000 a year as a senator, and his wife reported annual earnings of about $100,000.

Rubini said he would be honored to help, the developer recalled recently during extensive interviews in his Anchorage office.

A lawyer and a Democrat known for representing liberal clients, Rubini had a gift for engineering complex deals.

Rubini and his partner, Leonard B. Hyde, made it a practice to form a separate syndicate of investors for each project. Bittner had often been among those participants. Rubini arranged for Stevens to put up $50,000, giving him a 7.7% interest in a new syndicate called JLS Properties.

Rubini, Hyde and another partner who came in on the deal were required to personally guarantee, if necessary, debts the partnership took on. They also agreed to contribute more capital if needed.

Stevens was not asked to guarantee notes or promise more money because he was brought in as a passive investor, Rubini said. The senator said he asked for that status because it shielded him from the kind of open-ended financial obligation that had caused his “bad experience” in the crab boat venture.

The deal began in characteristic Rubini fashion, with the purchase of an $11-million collection of what he called “ragtag” properties, whose out-of-state owners wanted to unload. Rubini quickly resold several of the properties to pay down debt.

Among the properties retained were a small office park near the Anchorage airport and a modest two-story office building downtown. Within three years, Rubini said, Stevens’ equity climbed to about $250,000.

Stevens also invested $50,000 in a separate Rubini syndicate to acquire an apartment complex in Fairbanks in 1999, records show. Stevens’ equity in that property has grown too, Rubini said.

A Federal Contract

Stevens was soon in a position to do a favor for Rubini.

When Elmendorf Air Force Base, immediately north of Anchorage, was selected to participate in a new Pentagon program to privatize base housing, Rubini and another set of partners bid on the $450-million contract in 2000.

The chosen developer would take title to the existing housing, upgrade and expand it, then rent the houses back to service families. At 828 units, the Elmendorf contract was far larger than anything Rubini had built before — “a big reach for us,” as he put it.

Yet with low-interest government construction loans and the Air Force pledging to pay tenants’ housing allowances directly to the contractor for the next 50 years, it looked like a moneymaker.

Bittner became an investor in the Elmendorf group that Rubini put together, records show. Stevens did not, and he said Monday that he had been unaware of Bittner’s involvement.

The senator said he “strongly supported” privatization because it improved housing for military families and “it would greatly enhance the likelihood that Elmendorf would not be closed in the next round of base closures.”

When Rubini sought more time to prepare his bid, Air Force officials noted in their records, he sent the senator a copy of the request.

“I purposely CC’d Sen. Stevens to send a signal to the Air Force that we would raise the issue with the Alaska delegation if the Air Force acted unreasonably,” Rubini said.

Although it was less than he wanted, Rubini was given a two-week extension.

With only the final paperwork to wrap up, Rubini was told he’d won.

Then, in September 2000, days before the deal was to become final, the Air Force reneged. One government memo said the Air Force thought Rubini’s group “lacked capacity and adequate financing” — claims Rubini strenuously rejects.

Rubini, whose group had already spent $1 million on preparation work, fought back. He filed a formal protest and also wrote to Stevens, explaining the problem and requesting help. Then he flew to Washington. First, he tried to talk to Air Force officials, who refused to see him. Next, he visited Stevens on Capitol Hill.

The meeting went so well that Stevens invited Rubini home, where they watched one of the presidential candidate debates between Al Gore and George W. Bush, Rubini said.

Military Offensive

Stevens said he decided to get involved with the Elmendorf project.

“My involvement with the Elmendorf project was motivated to ensure that the Air Force moved forward,” he said in his written response.

In addition, he said, he was “looking out for an Alaskan company that was getting short shrift from the Department of Defense.”

Stevens did not answer questions about the specific actions he took. He was quoted in an August Anchorage Daily News article as saying he called Air Force generals. The article reported on his relationship with Rubini.

Whatever he did, the Air Force began to feel some heat.

As chairman of Appropriations, Stevens is an ex officio member of its Military Construction Subcommittee. The chairman of that subcommittee, Conrad R. Burns (R-Mont.), is one of Stevens’ fishing buddies.

In October 2000, Burns wrote to the secretary of the Air Force, F. Whitten Peters, threatening to take away the Elmendorf privatization money because of the glitch in awarding the contract.

Burns arranged for a similar letter to go to the Air Force from the chairman of the corresponding House committee, and House aides said they knew Stevens was interested in the matter.

Burns did not respond to calls or written questions about his actions.

Meanwhile, Rubini tried one more move: joining forces with the only other Elmendorf bidder — Hunt Building Corp. of El Paso. Hunt was an established builder of military housing, though the government had forced the company to pay $8 million in compensation for construction problems on an earlier project.

In early December 2000, the Air Force put aside its reservations and decided Rubini and his new partner were acceptable.

Rubini said he did not know specifically what Stevens did on the Elmendorf project. Whatever it was, “Sen. Stevens would have stepped up to assist any Alaska business,” he said.

Air Force officials say they are happy with the work Rubini’s firm has done at Elmendorf, and recently announced the Rubini group would get to do a second round of housing upgrades without further competition — this phase 50% larger than the first.

Inside Track

Stevens’ efforts to help Rubini with Elmendorf came just as Rubini was making a decision that transformed Stevens from a modestly successful investor into a millionaire.

In October 2000, while Rubini was enlisting the senator’s help with the Air Force, the developer acquired 30 acres in midtown Anchorage that he planned to cover with gleaming office towers.

Like Elmendorf, this deal was a big step up for Rubini — larger both in size and potential profits than his earlier ventures.

And Rubini chose to make Stevens and JLS Properties part of it. He said JLS had accrued equity in the properties it already owned and thus could help with the new financing.

Rubini could have financed the new development in many ways. He could have used the financial resources of almost any of his numerous successful holdings. Or, as he frequently did in such cases, he could have attracted an entirely new set of investors.

Why did he choose to use JLS to help with financing instead of one of the other options? It was just a decision he made, Rubini said.

Once again, the senator did not have to agree to guarantee the new venture’s debts, as the other JLS partners were required to do.

The first new building to be constructed, called Centerpoint I, is a striking $35-million edifice with commanding views of snow-capped mountains. The remainder of the 30-acre parcel is being developed as Centerpoint II. Stevens is part of that project too.

Stevens has reported that his investments in JLS, Centerpoint I and Centerpoint II, all stemming from his initial $50,000 investment, are now worth between $750,000 and $1.5 million.

Rubini said there was no connection between Stevens’ intervention on Elmendorf and Rubini’s decision to move the senator into the Centerpoint deals.

“Clearly, a phone call from Sen. Stevens does not hurt,” Rubini said, referring to the senator’s contacts with the Air Force on his behalf.

“But there was no quid pro quo, plain and simple,” he said.

Lifetime Annuity

Today, Centerpoint I is fully occupied as the new headquarters of the Arctic Slope Regional Corp., which is paying $6 million a year on a 20-year lease.

Arctic Slope is no ordinary tenant. A $1-billion-a-year business, it is the largest Alaskan-owned company in the state. More important, the company — along with 12 other regional Native corporations — was created through legislation the senator took the lead in drafting. And it has prospered through his continuing efforts in the Senate.

Arctic Slope and the other Native regional corporations were born in 1971 as part of a landmark bill called the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act, hailed as a humanitarian alternative to the failures of traditional reservations.

Under the act, about 40 million acres and almost $1 billion in working capital went to Native corporations and to some 200 much smaller village bodies to settle their claims to land. They were to help their shareholders, the Native people living in their regions, by making investments, starting businesses and in other ways generating economic activity.

Many of the Native corporations have found it hard to fulfill their mission, but Arctic Slope, which represents Inupiat Eskimos on the oil-rich North Slope, gradually built a strong base providing support services to the giant oil companies at Prudhoe Bay.

And Stevens is now fighting to authorize oil extraction from the nearby Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, where Arctic Slope owns petroleum rights to 92,000 acres.

Thanks to Stevens, Arctic Slope and the other Native corporations also enjoy preferences when seeking federal contracts that go well beyond anything available to blacks or Latinos, even though Arctic Slope ranks among the nation’s 500 largest privately owned companies.

One set of preferences that Stevens inserted into his annual defense appropriations bills recently enabled Arctic Slope and another Native corporation to land a $2-billion Pentagon deal without competitive bidding.

Now money is flowing the other way — to Stevens.

A company executive, Conrad Bagne, said Arctic Slope did not find out about Stevens’ ownership in Centerpoint until the company had finalized the deal. He said Stevens’ involvement had no effect on the company’s decision to sign the lease and that there was no impropriety.

“No one is more committed to public service than Sen. Stevens,” Bagne said.

Stevens now has a personal stake in his tenant’s future. At the same time, he continues to aid the company’s bottom line through his position as chairman of the Appropriations Committee. This year, for example, he pushed through legislation renewing the federal defense contract preferences.

In addition, Stevens has inserted a provision in this year’s pending appropriations bill that directs federal agencies to consult with Arctic Slope and the other Native corporations on equal footing with tribal governments. This gives Arctic Slope, for one, new legal standing when pushing to open the Arctic wildlife refuge to oil and gas drilling — a position opposed by at least some tribal leaders.

“I have and will continue to work with all Alaska Native corporations — both individually and collectively — in my official capacity,” said Stevens, noting that he does not deal directly with Arctic Slope on its lease.

An Arctic Slope subsidiary has paid Bittner $120,000 since 2002 to lobby on appropriations and government contracts.

Hidden Interest

Business interests that look to her husband for support have also enriched Catherine Stevens in a series of transactions that went through Chamer Co., the private family investment firm run by Bittner.

Sen. Stevens did not report some of these deals on his financial disclosure reports; others were reported only sketchily — without the details required by law.

One of the transactions was a quick stock deal involving the Alaska Communications Systems Group that earned Catherine Stevens at least $47,000, records show.

The company has benefited from the senator’s influence over communications policy as a senior member of the Commerce Committee.

For example, Stevens pushed through legislation in 1996 that created a subsidy for remote telephone service, and he has fought efforts to dilute Alaska’s sizable share of the subsidy. Alaska Communications considers the subsidy, called the universal service fund, an important revenue source.

Alaska Communications Chairman Charles Robinson said, “The universal service fund is important to every telephone company in Alaska.” He said Stevens had “done a great job in preserving it.”

The senator said his actions had “benefited all Alaskans and all Alaska communications companies.”

Stevens stands to be an even more valuable ally in 2005, when he’s scheduled to take over as Commerce Committee chairman.

Robinson combined the Fairbanks and Anchorage phone companies to create Alaska Communications in 1999, and took it public in the fall of that year.

As is common before companies go public, a select group of insiders was allowed to buy stock at a bargain price, in this instance $6.15 a share, the documents show. In this group were several financiers and others involved in creating the company, including Bittner, who was and is the company’s Washington lobbyist.

Though she was not on record as an officer or financier for the company, Catherine Stevens ended up with some of the bargain shares. Robinson said he knew she had shares but did not remember how she obtained them.

Alaska Communications issued 42,248 shares to Chamer Co., which Catherine Stevens owns with Bittner, their sister and their mother. She purchased 16,250 of those shares and sold them a year later, according to the Securities and Exchange Commission.

Ted Stevens did not report the shares on his ethics report for 1999, the year Chamer acquired them.

Ethics rules require disclosure of activity by a family-owned business, in detail and in the same year a transaction occurs.

The deal was not reported until 2000, after Catherine Stevens had sold her shares, most of them at $9.25, for a profit of at least $47,000.

Rubini, the developer of Centerpoint I, said Chamer also had an interest in that project. He said Chamer put up $250,000 for a 3% short-term stake in Centerpoint I that earned a 15% return on investment.

Records show Chamer also invested $125,000 in an earlier Rubini syndicate.

Stevens did not disclose either of these investments on his Senate financial forms.

Although Senate ethics rules encompass his wife’s financial activities as well as his own, Stevens sought to distance himself from Chamer.

“I have no interest in that company, do not participate in its meetings, nor do I participate in any decisions related to its business activities,” he said Monday. His wife did not respond to telephone messages on Tuesday.

Back in Washington

Stevens continues to push for money and other benefits for Alaskan interests — including nearly $400 million in pending legislation to help tourism, education, the environment, scientific research, roads, fisheries and the war against fetal alcohol syndrome.

There’s also $2.5 million to survey the seabed for a fiber-optic cable connecting Kodiak Island, Anchorage and the Kenai Peninsula; Alaska Communications Systems serves both Anchorage and Kodiak.

Researcher Mark Madden in Washington assisted in this report. Staff writer Judy Pasternak in Washington also contributed.

Review prompted by Gaza action calls for Norway’s sovereign wealth fund to lift ethical risk limitations on its investments.

A government-appointed committee has called for Norway’s sovereign wealth fund to lift limitations on its investments based on ethical risks, including those regarding nuclear weapons and Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza.

In a report released on Thursday, the committee said the world’s largest sovereign wealth fund, which controls assets totalling nearly $2.3 trillion, should be allowed to invest in companies that produce nuclear weapons. With reference to Gaza, it also called for the fund to refrain from involvement in diplomatic issues.

Led by former Central Bank Governor Svein Gjedrem, the committee recommended easing the fund’s investment conditions as part of a broader overhaul that would give its manager, the central bank, greater discretion over how it addresses ethical risks.

The review was prompted in part by controversy over the fund’s disinvestment last year from United States construction giant Caterpillar. The fund said the move was prompted by Caterpillar’s purported involvement in rights violations perpetrated by Israel amid its genocidal war on Gaza and in the occupied West Bank. Washington has since pressured Oslo over the move.

“Parts of the rationale for the appointment of the Committee was the Fund’s management related to the war in Gaza,” the committee commissioned by the government said. In the report, it argued that decisions regarding “another state’s conduct” should not be made by the fund but “reserved for the ordinary diplomatic channels of the Norwegian authorities”.

The unanimous recommendations of the committee in the report, which was submitted to the Ministry of Finance, also called for a review of the fund’s exclusion of investment in companies involved in the production of nuclear weapons.

Citing Norway’s reliance on NATO’s nuclear deterrent and a worsening security environment, the report suggested that investments in companies based in the US, United Kingdom and France that are involved in the production of nuclear weapons should be allowed.

The proposals also extended to reshaping the role of the fund’s independent ethics watchdog, allowing some assessments of potential investments to remain confidential.

‘Pandora’s box’

The report has already provoked a backlash in Norway, with opposition politicians slamming the potential changes. Meanwhile, analysts suggested that weakening ethics considerations could have a wide impact.

“If the Norwegian sovereign wealth fund – often considered a global gold standard – changes its posture towards nuclear weapons, it will open Pandora’s box for many global investors to follow suit,” Lawrence Loh, director of the Centre for Governance and Sustainability at the National University of Singapore Business School, told Al Jazeera.

The committee framed the proposed change as an obligation to protect Norway’s national security, citing the country’s dependence on its allies’ nuclear umbrella.

“The global security situation has changed. Norway is building up its defence capabilities, and the protection provided by NATO’s nuclear umbrella has become increasingly important. The companies that would be reincluded produce weapons that Norway needs for its own defence”, the report argued.

Gareth Evans, former Australian foreign minister, told Al Jazeera the report was “an encouraging initiative in a world that has become alarmingly complacent about the risks of nuclear war, with every major nuclear arms control agreement dead, dying or on life support, and the longstanding taboo against threat or use eroding”.

Amid US President Donald Trump’s shake-up of NATO, European countries are increasingly looking to join France’s nuclear deterrent umbrella.

Trump said on Thursday that Washington is holding talks with Russia and China aimed at denuclearising the countries with the biggest stockpiles of nuclear weapons.

However, Loh warned that shifting the Norwegian fund’s investment conditions could encourage investment by others in nuclear companies “in scenarios different from the Norwegian’s condition of the invested companies being based in allied, nuclear-armed NATO countries”.

A majority of US adults say President Trump and his family have inappropriately profited from presidency.

Most US adults believe President Donald Trump has placed his personal financial interests and those of his inner circle ahead of the country’s since returning to the White House in 2025, according to a new nationwide poll.

The poll, conducted by the Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research and released on Tuesday, suggests that public perception of the Republican president leans heavily critical: Over half of surveyed adults view Trump’s second term as self-serving by investing in his own business and commercial pursuits “a lot”. Roughly one quarter believe he focuses on national interests, but only 11 percent feel Trump represents regular Americans. Fifty-five percent of Republicans surveyed said that Trump has prioritised his personal business interests “a lot” or “some”.

Half of the respondents report that Trump has placed zero priority on people “like them”.

As Trump’s family business pulls in record funds from new ventures helped by his policies, the poll results suggest that most US adults think growing his own finances has been the north star of Trump’s presidency, at least to some extent.

Trump’s June financial disclosure revealed massive post-election influxes of foreign and corporate capital into his business empire, stemming primarily from over $1bn in cryptocurrency ventures after he loosened regulation on the industry, as well as from international real estate.

During his first year as president, the Trump Organisation – Trump’s multinational family-owned enterprise dedicated to property development and global brand licensing – made eight real estate deals with authoritarian or one-party foreign states. Some speculate these countries were highly motivated to maintain favourable relations with the US to keep Trump happy on fronts like trade tariffs, military protection and private business dealings.

The administration, meanwhile, has repeatedly dismissed concerns over Trump’s business conflicts of interest, maintaining that he acts solely in the interest of Americans.

In late September, a separate Reuters/Ipsos poll found that Trump’s approval rating has fallen to 32 percent – the lowest of his ⁠political career – as his fellow Republicans soured on his handling of the cost of living crisis amid the deeply unpopular Iran war.

The dip in performance and approval ratings follows a high point in January 2025, when the newly inaugurated president boasted a 47 percent approval rating right after taking office.

According to the AP-NORC poll, which surveyed more than 2,000 US adults in late September, general sentiment around the administration’s ethical conduct is highly polarised, with far more citizens feeling that the president has neither prioritised the country as a whole nor everyday Americans.

Just over 40 percent of respondents believe Trump has “done something illegal” vis-a-vis allegations of personal enrichment while in office, with another 18 percent viewing his financial dealings as “unethical but not illegal”.

Opinions surrounding the lawfulness of the president’s financial practices split sharply along party lines, with Democrats overwhelmingly viewing the actions as illegal, compared with about three in 10 independents and about one in 10 Republicans, who largely see his behaviour as justified.

WASHINGTON — In September of 1939, just a week after World War II had erupted in Europe, The American Home advertised why a housewives magazine like itself mattered in a time of distant trouble. “Hitler threatens Europe,” the ad proclaimed, “but Betty Havens’ husband’s boss is coming to dinner–and that’s what really counts.”

The ad fixed an awful truth: World War II, the most fearsome and bloody cataclysm of world history, caught America napping and unawares. An enervated giant, the United States in 1939 was weak, poor, isolated and ignorant of the rest of the world. Eighteen other countries–even Turkey–had more soldiers than the United States. The American Army outnumbered the Bulgarian army, but only by 23,000.

Americans were so oblivious of events abroad that James McClure Clarke and his roommate left for a bicycle trip through Europe in the summer of 1939 just after their graduation from Princeton University.

“That was the sort of thing a lot of young men did,” Clarke, now a 72-year-old Democratic congressman from North Carolina, recalled in his Capitol Hill office recently.

Unaware that war was imminent, they cycled into Germany.

“On every train, at every station,” he said, “there were German soldiers. And if you greeted anybody, they would ‘Heil Hitler.’ And even when we climbed in the mountains, you would see young people, Boy Scout age, groups of them, and they would raise their hands, ‘Heil Hitler.’ When we were in the Black Forest, I remember seeing a big sign put up there by Hitler saying the Jew is our enemy and then talking about the Jew in North America, listing Franklin D. Roosevelt and Henry Morgenthau and so forth.”

That sign, of course, told a lie. Aside from its virulent anti-Semitism, it was wrong about Roosevelt, although correct about Secretary of the Treasury Morgenthau’s Jewishness. But for Clarke, it hit home: Morgenthau’s son was a Princeton classmate.

War was declared before Clarke and his friend could return to the United States. They boarded the British liner Antonio during the first week of the war. The Antonio’s sister ship, the Athenia, leaving only a few days earlier, had been stalked by a German U-boat and torpedoed. More than a hundred people died when the ship sank in the Atlantic.

Did these experiences make Clarke and others like him more vitally concerned about events in Europe?

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Clarke replied. “I think it took a while for America to wake up. It took Pearl Harbor.”

Yet, once America woke up, it somehow transformed itself swiftly into an enormous, engulfing and astounding dynamo that would shake and cow the world. By the end of World War II, a nation once bereft of military strength had turned itself into the most awesome military power ever seen; a nation once contemptuous of entangling alliances had turned itself, however reluctantly, into a natural leader of grand alliances, and a nation still impoverished and reeling from the Great Depression had turned itself into an Olympus of wealth.

Moreover, mobilization for war altered society in quiet but profound ways that would not make themselves obvious for two decades or more. Rural blacks migrating to the cities or fighting in American armies would never go back easily to sharecropping and oppression.

“Rosie the Riveter,” the popular song heroine working in a war factory while her boyfriend fought in the Marines, would return to the kitchen after the war, but her legacy would lead to the women’s liberation movement.

400,000 Lost Lives

Compared to the carnage suffered elsewhere, U.S. casualties in World War II were, relatively speaking, light. More than 400,000 military personnel lost their lives–about 292,000 in combat–a tragic and bitter waste, but no more than a small statistic when measured against the 50 million Europeans and Asians slaughtered. There were more American civilian deaths from pneumonia and tuberculosis during the war than deaths on the battlefield. The wartime population of the United States, in fact, increased by a healthy 6%. The enemy inflicted negligible damage on the American mainland in a handful of incidents, and the United States was the only belligerent to end the war richer than before.

Americans owed the relative comfort and low cost of their victory to geographic distance, natural resources and a good deal of luck. But many preferred to believe that God-given American pluck and ingenuity had counted far more. While many Europeans agitated for radical changes in the political systems that had driven them to Fascism and war, Americans felt more pride in their own system than ever before. An era of great self-confidence came after the war.

“American experience,” wrote Henry R. Luce in a Life magazine editorial, “is the key to the future.”

Looking back, the year 1939 now seems like a last, lost age of innocence in America, undarkened by the clouds in Europe. The Hit Parade was led by a song that asked:

Jeepers Creepers, where’d you get those peepers?

Jeepers Creepers, where’d you get those eyes?

A 23-year-old vocalist named Frank Sinatra joined the Harry James band. Only 3% of Americans earned enough money to pay income tax. Almost 50 million people glimpsed the wondrous sleek highways and blight-free cities of the future in the General Motors Futurama pavilion at the New York World’s Fair. New Pontiacs sold for $862 and Florsheim shoes for $8.75.

Shirley Temple and Clark Gable were the biggest box office stars of the year. Hoping to do something about what it called “our national shame,” Standard Plumbing Fixtures reported in its advertisements that 15 out of 100 homes in 213 American cities still had no indoor toilets. Lou Gehrig retired from the Yankees, and Ted Williams joined the Red Sox.

The New York Telephone Co. explained that it did not hire Jewish women as operators because their arms were too short to operate phone equipment. Two new products–DDT and nylon stockings–were introduced. “Gone With The Wind” premiered in a banner movie year that included “Stagecoach,” “Wuthering Heights,” “Four Feathers,” “The Wizard of Oz” and “Ninotchka.” Pepsi-Cola challenged Coca-Cola with a catchy jingle:

Pepsi – Cola hits the spot, 12 full ounces that’s a lot ;

Twice as much for a nickel too, Pepsi – Cola is the drink for you.

The war probably left the United States with no more dramatic legacy than its transformation from unabashed isolationism to eventual guardian of the Free World. The day war erupted in Europe, Washington correspondent Phelps Adams asked President Roosevelt in his crowded White House office, “Mr. President, can we stay out of it?”

The President, who had been awakened at 2:50 a.m. with the news of the war, sat silently, his eyes cast downward, for several long moments, and then replied solemnly, “I not only sincerely hope so, but I believe we can, and every effort will be made to do so.”

Later, Roosevelt, sounding more firmly convinced that America could avoid war, warned on radio, “Let no man or woman thoughtlessly or falsely talk of America sending its armies to European fields.”

As far as many Americans were concerned, Europe had botched the peace cemented for them by American intervention in World War I. They were in no mood to get involved again. Sen. Hiram Johnson of California admonished Americans against heeding the echoes of the First World War. “Beware the words ‘We cannot keep out,’ ‘Our entry into the war is inevitable,’ ‘We must fight to preserve democracy’ and all the Devil’s messages we heard 20 years ago,” he said.

Sen. Arthur Vandenburg boasted: “My passion is to keep America out of other people’s wars.”

Feted in Germany

Charles A. Lindbergh, who had touched the romantic fancy of both Europe and America with his solo flight across the Atlantic in 1927 and had been feted in Nazi Germany, told Americans at many isolationist rallies that a Nazi victory in Europe would not hurt the American way of life.

The isolationist mood was so strong that Roosevelt, accused by Republican candidate Wendell L. Wilkie of dragging America into war, pledged in a 1940 presidential election rally: “I have said this before, but I shall say it again and again and again: Your boys are not going to be sent into any foreign wars.”

Many skeptics believed that he never intended to keep that pledge. But the attack on Pearl Harbor in December, 1941, demolished the issue. With their infamous bombing of American territory and ships and citizens, the Japanese had turned World War II into an American war, not another people’s war, not a foreign war.

At the end of the war, no one could deny the United States the status of a superpower, bristling with more military and economic strength than any other country. It had led its allies to victory over Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy and militaristic Japan, and it now had the power and influence to lead much of the world in peace as well. It was reluctant to do so at first, but it finally faced the reality wrought by World War II: a world divided into two hostile camps led by superpowers, the United States and the Soviet Union, once allied against the Axis.

“In 1945,” recalled Don Cook, the 69-year-old retired foreign correspondent who wrote “Forging the Alliance,” a recent history of the founding of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, “you could never have gotten a two-thirds majority in the Senate for entering an alliance with Europe. The rump element of isolationism in the United States was still extremely strong and still had electoral appeal.

“I knew most of the isolationist senators because I had covered the Senate in the prewar period. The extent of their conversion from isolationism was a reluctant readiness to get into the United Nations. They weren’t going to repeat the mistake after World War I of not joining the League of Nations. But the United States had no intention of using military force in its role in the world. The senators had not reached the point of committing our power.”

Yet, in five years, the United States learned to commit its power and entangle itself in Europe and elsewhere. The Truman Doctrine, the Marshall Plan, the Berlin Airlift, the NATO treaty and the Korean War followed swiftly. By 1950, isolationism was dead.

“This may have been the first real major sweeping change in foreign policy since the founding of America,” said Cook.

World War II also swept the United States into the terrors of the Nuclear Age, for much of America’s immense new power came from its monopoly of nuclear bombs, the kind that destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 and brought the war to a close.

Refugee Scientists

That short-lived monopoly–the Soviet Union developed its own atomic bomb four years later–came out of the prescience of refugee scientists living in the United States in 1939. Unlike other Americans, they could not ignore the awful horror of Adolf Hitler, for they had fled from him. These scientists knew that scientific research had made an atomic weapon feasible and that, though Hitler had driven many scientists away in his obsession for ethnic purity, enough scientists remained in Germany to create a bomb that might ensure his infernal domination of this planet.

Three Hungarian refugee scientists–Leo Szilard, Eugene Wigner and Edward Teller–met with German-born Albert Einstein, probably the world’s best-known physicist, in Princeton in 1939 and urged him to write Roosevelt about the need for an American program to build an atomic bomb.

In a now famous letter, dated one month before the outbreak of the war in Europe, Einstein told Roosevelt that recent scientific research indicated “that it may become possible to set up a nuclear chain reaction in a large mass of uranium, by which vast amounts of power and large quantities of new radium-like elements would be generated.”

“This new phenomenon,” Einstein went on, “would also lead to the construction of bombs, and it is conceivable–though much less certain–that extremely powerful bombs of a new type may thus be constructed.”

It is unclear exactly what role Einstein’s letter played in the President’s decision, but Roosevelt finally ordered an all-out program known as the Manhattan Project in 1942 to develop an atomic bomb. American scientists, many of them refugees from Hitler, won the race with the German scientists but not in time to use the terrible weapon against Nazi Germany. The first and, thus far, only nuclear devastation in history, came in the American bombing of the two Japanese cities in August, 1945. The precarious reality of the Nuclear Age has governed American foreign policy ever since.

Most Americans now are too young to remember how poor their parents and grandparents were half a century ago. It was no accident that John Steinbeck’s “The Grapes of Wrath,” a long novel about impoverished Oklahoma farmers trekking to California, selling for $2.75 a copy, led the best-seller list in 1939. The Great Depression of the 1930s had weakened the United States far more than any country in Europe.

Despite all Roosevelt’s New Deal programs, 10 million people were unemployed in 1939, more than 15% of the work force. The American share of world manufacturing was lower than it had been at any time since 1910. At least one-third of Americans lived in or near poverty.

But the United States had enormous productive potential. In 1938, for example, two-thirds of its steel plants were idle. In 1939, it was spending less than 2% of its gross national product on defense. If Americans had the will to harness the potential, they could create a colossus of fearful military might and of enormous wealth. Once the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Americans showed that will.

At the end of the war, the American economy overshadowed the economies of the rest of the world in a show of relative wealth never seen before. Americans had a higher standard of living than any other people in the world and produced more goods per capita than anyone else. Half of the world’s manufacturing now took place within the United States. Practically any American who wanted a job had one.

Some Americans feared that unemployment and depression would return after the demobilization of the armed forces. But, though the economy would experience ups and downs and though thick pockets of poverty would persist, especially for blacks, most Americans have lived for the last 50 years in an era of bounding prosperity.

World War II changed the United States in other, less obvious ways as well. In 1939, the Daughters of the American Revolution, citing the local customs of Washington, refused to allow the reknowned black opera singer Marian Anderson to sing in the DAR’s Constitution Hall in Washington. The blatant refusal struck many Americans as scandalous, and the federal government let Anderson sing instead, with Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt and other prominent white Americans in attendance, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

Yet the shame of the DAR refusal did not change most American attitudes toward blacks. Benny Carter, the 82-year-old black jazz saxophonist and composer, recalls what it was like taking his big band around the United States during World War II.

‘No Black Hotels’

“We weren’t interested in getting into any serious incidents, but it was the same old thing,” Carter said recently. “My bands were mostly black. There might be two out of 17 who were not minority musicians. We had problems about where to stay in the South. We stayed mainly in the homes of people–what they would consider bed and breakfast places now. There were no black hotels, and we weren’t welcome in the others.”

As industries girded for war, they tried to hire as few blacks as possible. In 1941, for example, Douglas Aircraft had only 10 blacks among its 33,000 employees. Under the threat of black demonstrations, Roosevelt created a Fair Employment Practices Committee in 1941 to ensure some kind of fairness in hiring.

The committee had little power, but its creation was looked on later as a significant first step toward civil rights. As the war progressed, blacks were drafted into the army or lured to jobs in the North. That began the enormous migration of blacks out of rural America into the cities of both the South and the North, making the problems of this repressed minority national rather than regional. Rioting soon erupted in Detroit. By 1945, the status of American blacks had not improved very much, but the war had laid the seeds for the civil rights movement that followed.

For women, the war offered, but only briefly, an immense opportunity. The Great Depression had made it even more difficult for women to work. With millions of men unemployed, a working woman was looked on by many as a usurper–snatching a job out of the hands of some family’s breadwinner. Public opinion polls showed that most Americans in 1939 would support laws to prohibit the employment of women whose husbands earned more than $1,600 a year.

The war changed all that.

Factories needed women to replace the millions of men drafted into the armed services. The number of women in the labor force increased during the war to 19 million from 14 million. Nearly half of all American women worked at some time from 1941 to 1945. Many took jobs once typed as masculine: riveting, welding and operating cranes.

There was a good deal of male anxiety about this. Columnist Max Lerner complained that the war may have created “a new Amazon” who could “outdrink, out-swear and out-swagger the men.” Social workers and journalists began to blame an increase in juvenile delinquency on absent, working mothers.

When the war ended, millions of women left or lost their jobs to make room for the returning men. In Los Angeles, for example, the proportion of women working in the aircraft industry dropped from a high of 40% during the war to 18% in 1946. The sexual division of labor reasserted itself, and many women were forced back into lower paying “women’s work.”

Yet, as Secretary of Interior Harold Ickes predicted in a magazine article in 1943, the role of women would never be the same.

“I think this is as good a time as any . . . to warn men,” he wrote, “that when the war is over, the going will be a lot tougher, because they will have to compete with women whose eyes have been opened to their greatest economic potentialities.”

After the war, the numbers of working women never dropped to the levels of the Depression and, in a decade, started to increase to levels well beyond what had been reached during the war. There is little doubt that the ground for the women’s liberation movement was set during World War II.

When the war ended, a nation that had produced 71,000 naval craft, 300,000 aircraft and 2.5 million military trucks now hungered for more ordinary goods. Radio still dominated popular culture, but television, delayed by the war, would come swiftly. New products such as dishwashers, garbage disposal units and aerosol sprays reached the market. Teen-agers, whose families could hardly afford to buy them toys five years earlier, now had loose change in their pockets and wanted records. By 1945, the sales of records had increased tenfold in a decade.

No one expected the United States to return to 1939. No one wanted to.

“For those of us like myself who came out of high school in the Depression,” said Cook, “the war offered us a sense of adventure and change. . . . I think practically anybody of my generation would say that the war was decisive in framing one’s life and one’s future. And, in varying degrees, a considerable majority would say these were the best years of our lives. They gave us momentum. . . . It was tragic for a number of people . . . but there was an exhilaration to those times.”

“One of the best things you realized (serving in the wartime military) was the great diversity of the country. Gosh, here you are thrown in with guys from Georgia Tech, Louisiana State, Iowa–it just made you realize what a big country it was and how a relatively small percentage of the world the Ivy League was. . . . And it was also good for making some of us more confident in being able to stand on your own.” North Carolinians returning from the war “realized there was a world beyond the mountains. They went all over the place. They went to the Pacific, they went to Europe, they were prisoners of war. It was an eye opener to them.”

— Rep. James McClure Clarke (D-N.C.), 72, a Princeton graduate who served as a naval officer on Guadalcanal during the war.

“Our soldiers were not fighting to make the world safe for democracy like in World War I. This was much more of a crusade of our own. . . . The war took over everyone’s life whether you were drafted or not. It had this sense of adventure. I don’t like the word ‘purity,’ but the war had an uplift about it, because we were fighting Nazis and fighting for ideals. It had an idealism about it.”

— Don Cook, 69, author and journalist, who covered World War II in Europe and spent 43 years as a foreign correspondent for the New York Herald Tribune and Los Angeles Times.

U.S. ACTIVE MILITARY PERSONNEL

Army Navy Marines Total 1939 189,839 125,202 19,432 334,473 1940 269,023 160,997 28,345 458,365 1941 1,462,315 284,427 54,359 1,801,101 1942 3,075,608 640,570 142,613 3,858,791 1943 6,994,472 1,741,750 308,523 9,044,745 1944 7,994,750 2,981,365 475,604 11,451,719 1945 8,267,958 3,380,817 474,680 12,123,455

Source: World War II Almanac

Sen. Bernie Sanders, a hero among the nation’s progressive voters, stumped in Southern California on Monday for a wealth tax on the California ballot in November that has drawn hundreds of millions of dollars in campaign spending.

“What you are showing people from coast to coast and all over is that, yes, we can take on the greed of the oligarchs,” said Sanders (I-Vt.), who called Proposition 40 the most important ballot measure in the country. “Yes, we can create an economy and a government that works for all of us, not just the 1 percent.”

Sanders name-checked billionaire tech founders including Elon Musk of SpaceX, Mark Zuckerberg of Meta and Google co-founder Sergey Brin, whose mentions were repeatedly met with boos from the crowd gathered at the Novo in downtown Los Angeles.

Labor leaders, speaking earlier on Monday at a union training facility in La Palma, argued that although the billionaires tax is billed as a one-time tax on the assets of the state’s wealthiest residents, it includes a loophole that would allow state lawmakers to tax the savings and retirement accounts and home equity of all Californians.

“In the trades, we know you always read the blueprints and you always read the fine print,” said Xochitl Medrano, the political director for the district council of the Ironworkers of the State of California and Vicinity. Medrano was surrounded by union workers chanting, “No on 40!”

“Our workers are not billionaires; they are working people. After 20, 30, or even 40 years of breaking their backs on the job sites, our members have the opportunity to have a decent pension, some retirement savings, and equity in a home that they’ve been working to pay off,” she said. “That’s not wealth handed to them. That’s sweat equity. … We won’t stand by and let a tax that’s supposed to target billionaires turn into a trap door for working families.”

Proposition 40 is among the most contentious issues on the Nov. 3 ballot. The measure was crafted by a healthcare union to offset $100 billion in impending federal healthcare funding cuts approved by congressional Republicans and signed by President Trump last year. Millions of Californians could lose their healthcare coverage because of those cuts.

There are two opposing measures on the November ballot, Propositions 41 and 42, that would nullify the billionaires tax if either receives more votes.

About 45% of likely voters supported Proposition 40, while 42% opposed it and 13% were undecided in a late September poll by UC Berkeley and the Los Angeles Times. That’s a decline in support compared with a poll six weeks earlier, when 48% of likely voters supported it while 41% opposed it.

The proposal has drawn more than $300 million in campaign contributions, nearly all against it. Ballot measures are not subject to caps on campaign donations.

Sanders was joined by Rep. Ro Khanna (D-Fremont) and artists including the rapper Common, who called for “them billionaires to pay up” between freestyle verses. Shepard Fairey, known for his famous portrait of President Obama, unveiled banners in support of the wealth tax campaign, which served as a backdrop on the event stage.

Rally attendee Datosha Williams, an SEIU-UHW member who works in healthcare customer service, said Proposition 40 is a backstop to federal healthcare cuts, which could lead to hospital closures around the state.

“My biggest fear is that I will see some of my coworkers lose their jobs,” she said. “My biggest fear is that my 8-year-old son, who is asthmatic, will have long waits in an ER.”

At the event at the Ironworkers Training Center in La Palma organized by labor leaders to oppose the wealth tax, apprentices attended workshops about rigging and collective bargaining rights.

“We’re not opposed to making the wealthy pay their fair share. We’re not opposed to creating a high-quality and low-cost health insurance plan for Californians,” said Andrew Gonzales, the council representative for the Los Angeles and Orange Counties Building and Construction Trades Council. “We just don’t think Prop. 40 is the right vehicle to go about that.”

Gonzales pointed to the volatile state budget’s dependence on tax revenue from wealthy Californians, some of whom have proactively moved out of the state because of the proposal.

“That’s already having an immediate impact to the state’s budget,” he said. “So we already see the danger that can occur.”

Foes of Proposition 40 attend a rally on Monday at the Ironworkers Training Center in La Palma.

(Eric Thayer/Los Angeles Times)