By Yogendra Yadav
“So, what’s it looking like?” I anticipate this question, even before it is asked. I know I am expected to carry in my pocket a forecast of the 2019 elections. I deflect the question with a one-liner: “Pahle bhavishya batata tha, ab bhavishya banata hoon (I’m now into making futures, not telling it)”. It doesn’t work. Then I offer cold reason: “Look, I don’t have access to survey data of my choice any more”. They agree, but persist. I try to disarm: “The tragedy of being a politician is that people tell me only what they think I wish to hear, so I know much less than you do.” The incredulous look tells me they don’t believe me one bit.
Here it goes, then: All you wanted to know about the 2019 elections outcome, but didn’t know who else to ask. Remember, it comes with a statutory warning: The author is a political activist who does not pretend to be neutral but strives to be truthful.
Truth is that you don’t have to be a psephologist (whatever that means) to understand the basic outlines of the battle of 2019. All the theoretical apparatus you need is political common sense. It would be useful to refer to an archive of past election results, especially the outcome of the Lok Sabha elections, 2014.
Also read: There are two ways opposition can beat Modi in 2019—and mahagathbandhan is not one of them
The best way to know about trends of public opinion would be to refer to either India Today’s six-monthly Mood of the Nation series or the ABP-CSDS Mood of the Nation series. My personal favourite is the detailed report put out by the CSDS-Lokniti team. [Full disclosure: I was in the founding team of CSDS-Lokniti, but have no connection now with the surveys or its reports, which have vastly improved since I left the team!]. If you want to track changes in the last few weeks, you might want to check out the weekly tracker of India Today’s Political Stock Exchange and the latest all-India poll done by C-Voter for ABP. I have many issues with both these latest surveys, but even a straw poll is better than drawing room gossip.
Let us think of India as five regions, each representing a distinct kind of battleground. And for the time being, let us focus on the fortunes of the BJP. Luckily, you don’t have to keep tabs on all the five regions for this election. The battle of ballots in 2019 will be decided in one of these battlegrounds, the ‘Hindi heartland’ (heartland of Hindi speakers, not India’s heartland!). The logic is simple. Compared to its performance in the 2014 elections, the BJP is poised to make some gains in the East. These gains would be more than offset by its small losses in the West, the South and the tiny Northern region. The entire balance would thus depend upon the Hindi heartland region. If you know what would happen to the BJP in the Hindi belt, you know the outcome of the 2019 elections.
Let us now look at each of these battlegrounds closely and understand why the BJP is jittery, notwithstanding its public grandstanding.
The East offers the BJP its only growth possibility over 2014. It won 11 seats in this entire region and thus has room to grow. All credible polls indicate that its support base is growing in Odisha at the expense of the Congress and in Bengal at the expense of the Left Front. The BJP has followed the old Congress strategy of acquisition and merger to register unprecedented growth in the northeast. The BJP will be a force to reckon with in east India. The only question is whether it can convert its additional votes into additional seats this election. As of now, the BJP appears to have crossed that threshold in Odisha, but not in Bengal. It may overtake the Left to emerge as the runner-up in Bengal, but it is still way short of challenging Mamata Banerjee’s hegemony. It cannot grow more in Assam, but is likely to pick additional seats in the hill states of the northeast. All in all, the BJP may pick up to 20 additional seats from this region.
The West is likely to witness a business-as-usual election with a small dent in the BJP tally. It swept this region in 2014 by winning all but six seats. Since then, anti-incumbency has hit it in all the three states. Rural unrest in Gujarat, farmers’ agitation in Maharashtra, its troubles with the Shiv Sena and the unholy and proxy government in Goa appear to have set the stage against the BJP in the region. Yet, the surveys suggest that the BJP can contain its losses. A Gujarati PM can help the party reverse some of its assembly poll setbacks in Gujarat. In Maharashtra, if the Shiv Sena goes back to the BJP, the NDA can take on the combined strength of the NCP-Congress alliance. In sum: The BJP may keep its losses to about 15-20 seats in this region.
The South is likely to witness a series of critical elections that can shape the future of state politics. But precisely for this reason, the Lok Sabha election is likely to be focused on regional issues and personalities. Modi vs Rahul presidential-style contest makes no sense here. The BJP has low stakes in the region, as it won only 22 seats here in the last election, of which 17 came from Karnataka. All indicators suggest that the BJP will remain a marginal player in this region. The BJP’s attempt to acquire the AIADMK seems to have failed. The DMK appears to have taken an early lead in this critical first election after the departure of Karunanidhi and Jayalalithaa, leaving the BJP in the cold. The BJP’s brazen stoking of communal passions in Sabarimala may help it make a breakthrough in Kerala. If so, it would be critical, but may not mean much in terms of numbers. Both Andhra and Telangana are likely to witness regional battles with little space for the BJP or the NDA, since Chandrababu Naidu has broken off from the BJP. The results of recent by-elections in Karnataka suggest that popular disgust with the Kumaraswamy coalition government may be overcome by the combined strength of the forced marriage between the JD(S) and the Congress. We do not know yet if the BJP would strike a rewarding alliance in Tamil Nadu or Andhra Pradesh, but as of now, the BJP looks like it’s shedding 5-10 seats in this region.
The North is not much of a separate region. It is just that the politics of Punjab and J&K does not fit into the pattern of the Hindi-speaking states. If one goes by the record of the local bodies elections and the implosion within the AAP, the Congress appears set to make small gains in Punjab. But that or a splintered verdict in the J&K hardly affects the national equation. It might add up to a loss of 3-4 seats for the BJP.
Let us take a stock of all the 317 seats we have surveyed so far. In 2014, the BJP had won 91 seats out of these. This time the picture is unlikely to change very much. The BJP’s losses in the South, mainly in Karnataka, may be the net loss for the party in all these regions put together. All in all, we are looking at the BJP winning anything between 80-90 seats in the non-Hindi speaking states of the country. Let us say it is 91: No losses, no gains for the BJP. For the sake of simplicity, therefore, we can forget the rest of India in the electoral arithmetic of 2019. The final outcome depends entirely on how well the BJP can retain its tally in the Hindi heartland. Let us turn to that.
The Hindi heartland is where the battle of 2019 will be won or lost. The BJP swept this region with 192 seats (203, if you add NDA’s allies in Bihar and UP). And that is the problem for the BJP. It can only go down from where it reached in 2014. All indications are that it will, almost everywhere in this region. Bihar may be an exception, as the BJP has recovered its alliance with the JD(U) to take on the resurgent and united opposition as well as to cut its losses. Polls suggest that the BJP state governments in Jharkhand, Haryana and Uttarakhand are very unpopular and would cost the party at least 10 seats in these three states. Nor is the party in a position to repeat its sweep in Delhi. While there are different projections of the mood of the electorate in the upcoming assembly elections, everyone agrees that the BJP faces a rout in Rajasthan and a serious challenge in Madhya Pradesh and Chhattisgarh. Past records show that in these states, the assembly verdict is repeated in the Lok Sabha results. If so, the BJP could easily lose 30 seats in these poll-bound states. All in all, the BJP is looking at a loss of up to 50 seats in these Hindi-speaking states.
That leaves Uttar Pradesh. It takes no genius to see that the impending SP-BSP alliance, that looks pretty robust as of now, could potentially reverse the 2014 verdict. The alliance can defeat the BJP in about 50 seats. To make matters worse for the ruling party, polls suggest that the Yogi Adityanath government is losing popular traction within two years of its historic victory. As things stand today, the BJP could lose up to 50 seats in UP alone and another 50 in the rest of the Hindi heartland.
Is that how the big election would play out in the Hindi heartland? We cannot be sure. This is the one region that may not see only state-level contests. This is where the BJP would try and turn the elections into a presidential-style contest between Narendra Modi and Rahul Gandhi. Mr Modi’s popularity rating is way ahead of Rahul Gandhi’s. The level of satisfaction with the Central government is much higher than satisfaction with BJP’s state governments. This is also the region that is more susceptible to the Ram temple propaganda and hate mongering that the BJP has started resorting to. At the same time, this region has seen very little of the vikas promised by Mr Modi, has suffered most from loss of jobs and has been hit by farmers’ distress. The battle for the future of India will be fought as Jawan-Kisan versus Hindu-Mussalman in the battlefields of the Hindi heartland.
As things stand today, the BJP is staring at a loss of 100 seats from the peak it attained in 2014. Unless something changes dramatically, there is no way the BJP can touch the 200 seat mark necessary for it to cobble up a majority. That would effectively put paid to Mr Modi’s prospects of a re-election. A lot can change between now and the election time. But that’s what it’s looking like. For now.
Ilhan, Rashida and Rahul
By Jawed Naqvi
THE young politician shows up at Mount Kailash in Tibet, and proclaims his youthful Hindu-ness in lighter sportswear than the freezing weather warrants. He then resumes his frenzied temple-hopping, balancing it with an occasional visit to a Muslim shrine. This is yet another election season in India.
Rahul Gandhi is again competing with the Hindu revivalist Bharatiya Janata Party on its turf. He claims to be the better Hindu of the two. While the young Indian leader was performing the religious trapeze to woo India’s strangely insecure majority, Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib became the first Muslim women to be elected to the US House of Representatives. One unapologetically proclaims justice for Palestine as a key pursuit, and the other, a hijab-clad Somalian-American, works her heart out to provide more accessible education to less-privileged children across ethnic barriers.
When everybody had declared America to be a right-wing haven, a spitting image of Modi’s India, the country pulled a rabbit out of its hat and gave President Trump a few useful thoughts to ruminate on. Similar examples abound from secular democracies elsewhere, not excluding the fact of a Muslim home secretary in the UK. If Trump stacked his politics with Islamophobia and racial innuendo, the American people, led by the white community, sent the maximum number of coloured women to their parliament in the November mid-term elections, including Omar and Tlaib. This is perhaps how tables are turned on errant adversaries in a democracy, by setting one’s own loftier agenda, and not by yielding to the follies of the opponent.
Gandhi’s display of his religion and caste mocks Indians who were looking for their own Jeremy Corbyn and Bernie Sanders in the pack. Even a Hindu variant of Kemal Ataturk — and such men and women do exist — could help rescue India from the reigning cult of religious charlatans. By allowing his party to hug symbols of a regressive appeal, Gandhi unwittingly smudged the vision of Jawaharlal Nehru and those who hitched their hopes to his liberal ideals. To be sure, the young leader still would make for a more presentable representative of what remains of a secular India.
Rahul Gandhi’s display of his religion and caste mocks Indians who were looking for their own Jeremy Corbyn and Bernie Sanders in the pack.
But India is not a baby pool of low-bar contests. Also, is Gandhi going to become an avid drinker of cow urine to garner votes, now that his party has promised to manufacture refined gau mutra as a commercial proposition? Is this what Indira Gandhi had in mind when she underscored secularism and socialism as the guiding principles of the constitution? Or would sipping the hallowed elixir embellish the scientific temper that Nehru had envisioned for the country? One was hoping Gandhi would take the cue from democracies elsewhere and weave a tapestry of pluralism and reason into the grand alliance he is cobbling together for general elections next year.
Having said that, India’s Muslims as none other are perennially counselled by their sympathisers to keep a low profile against the Hindutva onslaught and to let friendly folk do the battle on their behalf. The argument goes that Muslims give easy traction to Hindutva purposes, and any retaliation to a provocation, of which there’s no dearth today, would add grist to the reactionary mill. Had the assertion produced a worthy result, there would be reason to believe in the lore. The fear of Muslims being the red rag to the Hindutva bull should not be the ruse for their self-proclaimed supporters to feel hassled by their association with the community. A Muslim MP from Bihar and two legislators from Uttar Pradesh won important by-polls recently to defy the red-rag theory.
This is not a case for a mandatory quota for Muslims in the coming elections, far from it. The argument put simply is that the minority communities, particularly their women, often suffer in the proclaimed quest for ethnic rectitude. I would argue that Muslims generally form a perfect ballast and they improve the stability of any political party in India. In fact, their inclusion is useful not only to win elections but also to keep the promise of democracy alive with greater zeal. Saving the constitution is the stated objective of most political parties, but for India’s minorities, it is their lifeline, and they must secure it at all costs.
Put bluntly, will the parties they support stand with them when their constitutional guarantees are threatened? Let’s take the Ayodhya dispute currently being studied by the apex court. Would the Congress and its allies have the moral courage to stand by a court verdict should it favour the Muslim case? Would they stand up to the Hindutva challenge then, or should the Muslims start praying for an adverse verdict against their own petition?
Happily, this is not the dilemma for the two women who have made it to the Congress in the United States. Few are as outspoken as they are about Trump’s follies among their other urgent concerns. True, for that and more, they are abused and threatened on the net. They are trolled daily. But they have the unqualified support of the people and the party behind them to see to it that their worldview is not stifled. One thing worse than the stifling of the minorities in a democracy is to make them parrot the majoritarian point of view. Look at what happened in Pakistan. A Hindu man was elected for the first time from a general constituency to the National Assembly. That should be celebrated. But what was his battle cry? He wooed support by prescribing the death penalty for blasphemers. Likewise, in India. The Muslim author of a most adulatory book on Nehru joined the BJP. And now he seems sanguine at the daily abuses heaped on his erstwhile hero by the party’s tallest leaders. That’s not a route for Rahul Gandhi or Indian Muslims to pursue.
Why are the ‘yellow vests’ protesting in France?
By Rokhaya Diallo
For the past three weeks, France has been experiencing one of the most significant social mobilisations in its recent history, which laid bare the country’s social ills, anti-elite sentiment, growing inequalities and thirst for social justice.
It all started on November 17 when tens of thousands of people took to the streets across the country to protest against rising fuel prices.
The protesters, dubbed “Les gilets jaunes” (the yellow vests) after the high-visibility jackets they adopted as a symbol of their complaint, blocked roundabouts, burned effigies and clashed with the police. They were angry about the almost 20 percent increase in the price of diesel since the start of the year, as well as the planned fuel tax hike President Emmanuel Macron had recently announced.
While Macron said the tax was necessary to “protect the environment” and “combat climate change”, protesters claimed the decision was yet another sign that the “arrogant” and “privileged” president is out of touch with regular folk struggling to make ends meet.
The intensity of the protests quickly forced the government to make a U-turn and first suspend and later permanently shelve its plans for fuel tax increases. However, the protest movement was not only about fuel prices. It encompassed wider anger and frustration against the political establishment in general and President Macron in particular. As a result, the government’s decision to abandon fuel tax hikes failed to calm tensions.
The “yellow vests” want further concessions from the government. Their demands include a redistribution of wealth as well as the increase of salaries, pensions, social security payments and the minimum wage. Some say they will not settle for anything less than the president’s resignation.
So how did day-to-day frustrations about fuel prices and “green taxes” transform into a nation-wide protest movement attracting hundreds of thousands of people in a matter of weeks?
It all comes down to Macron’s apparent failure to connect with the people, understand their concerns and steer France away from destructive neoliberal policies.
40-year-old Macron was elected last year on pledges to change the face of French politics, create more jobs and improve lives.
On the eve of the 2017 presidential election, French voters were tired of career politicians. They wanted a different kind of leader, someone who can understand their long-rooted social and economic concerns and deliver real, practical solutions.
For the past four decades, French people have been worried about the erosion of social protections in their country. Since Francois Mitterrand’s socialist government controversially decided to impose austerity policies in 1983, successive governments have taken slow but consistent steps to dismantle the French welfare state.
All this gradually accentuated the economic concerns of the French middle and working classes and led them to be more and more suspicious of all mainstream politicians on the right and the left. They came to believe that the political elite protects the interests of the wealthy and does not care about the wellbeing of ordinary citizens.
Successfully diagnosing the public’s frustration with the political class, Macron worked hard to differentiate himself from the establishment in Paris and act as the representative of a “new world order” throughout his election campaign.
He had the youth, the energy, the positive message. He was the leader of a brand-new political party, aligned neither with the right nor the left. He appeared to be carrying no political baggage. Many viewed him as a possible saviour and did not hesitate to give him their vote.
Moreover, he was running against National Front leader Marine Le Pen. This also made him look like a “progressive saviour”. A significant portion of the French electorate was ready to vote for any moderate candidate who could stop the far right from taking power. So, they voted for Macron, even though many of them did not support his agenda completely or have faith in his ability to respond to their concerns.
As a result, Macron was elected by a landslide. However, it didn’t take long for his supporters to realise that his “reformist”, “new world” image was nothing more than an illusion.
Macron’s failure to bring about change should not have surprised anyone. Even though he seemed “young and new”, he was part of the establishment.
He had served as the minister of the economy, industry and digital affairs from 2014 to 2016 under Francois Hollande – he was in charge of implementing the former president’s infamous Labour Law reform, which caused widespread protests across the country. Before that he was a Rothschild investment banker.
Once elected, Macron showed his true colours almost immediately. He decided to amend the wealth tax – known in France as “ISF” – by narrowing it to a tax on real estate assets, rather than covering all worldwide assets over the value of 1.3m euros. This led to him being swiftly labelled the “president of the rich”.
On top of making controversial policy decisions that favoured powerful corporations and rich individuals, Macron also repeatedly demonstrated his unfamiliarity with – and at times disdain for – ordinary people struggling to survive in the country’s increasingly harsh economic environment.
In 2016 while he was the minister of economy, for example, Macron was confronted by angry trade unionists and was recorded telling one young man: “You don’t scare me with your T-shirt. The best way of paying for a suit is to work.”
In a July 2017 speech Macron said train stations were wonderful places, for there you can cross paths with both “people who succeed” (people like him) and “people who are nothing” (presumably ordinary French citizens like the rest of us).
In October of the same year he was filmed accusing disgruntled workers of preferring to stir up “chaos” rather than find jobs. “Instead of kicking up bloody chaos, some of them would be better off going to see if they can get a job over there,” he said, alluding to an aluminium factory in Ussel, a region in which employers were struggling to hire new workers.
More recently, in September this year, Macron told an unemployed man he could easily find work if only “he crossed the street”. “Everywhere I go people say to me that they are looking for staff,” the president said.
This lack of empathy coupled with business-friendly policies helped shape the French public’s perception of Macron as an arrogant, privileged politician who is a friend of the rich and the powerful.
The fuel tax that he tried to impose on people that are already feeling their economic concerns are being ignored was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
This is why the yellow vest movement is not only about fuel prices but about social justice. There is a profound discontent among ordinary people in France who see themselves as the losers in a world dominated by international elites who don’t seem to care or understand what they are going through. Macron is pursuing the exact same neoliberal agenda his predecessors pursued in the 1980’s. And just like the policies of his predecessors, his policies are hurting the poorest and helping the rich get even richer.
The protests are not rejecting climate change action
The yellow vest movement should not be seen as the public’s rejection of the green transition. The French state indeed has a responsibility to take action to combat climate change and protect the environment. But powerful companies that are primarily responsible for the pollution, and not regular citizens, should bear the brunt of this necessary revolution.
The yellow vest movement is, of course, not perfect. Some protesters were responsible for outrageous racial and homophobic attacks. Some also damaged national monuments and were violent towards police officers.
While we should not turn a blind eye to any of this, we should remember that the yellow vests movement is a reflection of the ongoing tensions in France. Almost 11 million people voted for the far right only a year ago in this country. There are some extremist elements in the French society and they were inevitably some among the protesters.
But we should not dismiss the entire movement as “extremist” because of this. The yellow vests are the French people who we never see on TV. Their despair can at times appear offensive because anger is neither polite nor sophisticated. It is disorganised, shocking and comes with emotion, which can translate into violence. The point is not to defend any of the violence that has tragically occurred, but to remember that the unrest France is currently facing came in response to other forms of violence, much more insidious and harmful: social exclusion and injustice.
Unemployment, discrimination and poverty are at the root of the daily humiliation French people feel which has now transformed into a general despondency. The French political elites will find it hard to pacify this public anger unless they commit to introducing radical changes to the way this country is governed.
The Khashoggi skeletons in America’s closet
By Azeezah Kanji
Donald Trump’s commitment to “remain[ing] a steadfast partner of Saudi Arabia,” despite the regime’s gruesome torture and murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi in Turkey, is clearly symptomatic of the malignantly self-serving nature of US foreign policy, which has long propped up dictatorships and enabled atrocities around the world for the sake of profit and power.
However, many of Trump’s most vocal critics on the Saudi file show signs of an equally dangerous pathological condition: a profound historical amnesia that permits some of the most prominent proponents of the US’ own torturous and murderous policies to now parade as champions of human rights, without any apparent sense of irony.
Obama-era CIA Director John Brennan, for instance, has insisted that “the US should never turn a blind eye to this sort of inhumanity [referring to the murder of Khashoggi] … because this is a nation that remains faithful to its values” – a curiously self-righteous stance for a man who not only repeatedly turned a blind eye to the inhumanity of past and present CIA practices such as extraordinary rendition, torture, and drone assassination, but actively defended and (in the case of drone use) expanded them.
Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell decried the brutal murder of Khashoggi as “completely abhorrent to everything the United States holds dear and stands for in the world”. Yet he praised another perpetrator of abhorrent deeds, CIA “black site” torture prison manager Gina Haspel, as an “excellent choice” for Director of the CIA.
Republican senator and drone war enthusiast Lindsey Graham called Saudi’s extrajudicial killing of Khashoggi a “barbaric act which defied all civilized norms” – even while maintaining that casualties of US’ own international norm-defying extrajudicial killing programme “got what they deserved.”
The idea that the US is in a position to hold anyone to account for “barbaric acts” of extraterritorial violence defies reality. Far from serving as a model to be emulated, the American precedent exemplifies the dangers of lethal state power wielded without adequate restraint.
“If other states were to claim the broad-based authority that the United States does, to kill people anywhere, anytime, the result would be chaos,” UN Special Rapporteur on Extrajudicial, Summary or Arbitrary Executions Philip Alston presciently warned in 2010.
Among the global targets of the US’s lethal drone programme – which have included first responders at missile strike sites, mourners at funerals, and families celebrating weddings – are, allegedly, at least two media workers.
In 2017, Al Jazeera’s former Islamabad bureau chief Ahmad Zaidan and American media activist Bilal Abdul Kareem filed a lawsuit against the US government, claiming they had been placed on the government’s “disposition matrix” – although the absolute secrecy surrounding who is on the extrajudicial kill list, and why, makes it impossible to know for sure. A US court shot down Zaidan’s case but allowed Abdul Kareem’s to proceed, rendering it the first legal challenge to the drone programme to make it past the preliminary stage.
While Trump may have been the first US president to openly and explicitly declare the media “the enemy of the people,” the treatment of journalists as a hostile force has been a consistent feature of the US’s so-called “war on terror”.
The Pentagon’s 2015 Law of War Manual stated that journalists may in some instances be considered “unprivileged belligerents” (enemy fighters without the protections and privileges accorded to lawful combatants), since “reporting on military operations can be very similar to collecting intelligence or even spying” – an apparent licence to target journalists that was only revised because of a sustained outcry from media organisations.
The illegal US-led war of aggression on Iraq has been one of the deadliest wars for journalists in modern history. In its first year, it “inflict[ed] a proportionally higher number of casualties on journalists than on members of the coalition’s armed forces” according to the International Committee of the Red Cross.
At least 16 journalists and six media workers were killed directly by US fire, including several “at checkpoints or near US bases, in most cases without [the US military] accepting responsibility,” as the Guardian reported. “Often they promised to hold investigations but never released the findings.”
In addition to dealing out death to journalists with impunity, US powers also made a habit of arresting and jailing them for long periods of time without charge, including journalists working for Reuters, CBS News, and the Associated Press.
“By early January 2006, Camp Bucca, an American detention centre in southern Iraq, had become the biggest prison for journalists in the Middle East,” observed Reporters Without Borders. Journalists were also imprisoned in the detention and torture camps at Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay. Al Jazeera cameraman Sami Alhaj was held in Guantanamo for more than six years; tellingly, 125 of the 130 interrogations he was put through had nothing to do with the activities of any terror organisation but with the operations of Al Jazeera.
While US commentators have rightly called out the farcical nature of Saudi Arabia’s investigation into the death of Khashoggi, the pretence that the US government has provided anything resembling accountability for its own crimes against journalists and other civilians is equally laughable. None of the senior officials implicated in the Iraq torture scandal, for instance, have ever been prosecuted, and authorities ignored reports of abuse from human rights organisations for six months before they were publicly exposed – a fact cited by Saudi’s Foreign Minister Adel al-Jubeir in an attempt to rationalise his own country’s delayed response to Khashoggi’s disappearance.
Perversely, punishment has primarily been reserved for those who have dared to call attention to the assault on journalists, rather than those responsible for the assault itself. Chelsea Manning was incarcerated for seven years in a military prison under conditions the UN Special Rapporteur on Torture concluded violated international law, for leaking evidence of US military atrocities including video footage showing US soldiers slaughtering two Reuters journalists and several other Iraqi civilians. In 2005, CNN’s chief news executive Eason Jordan was forced to resign because he suggested on a panel discussion that coalition troops were targeting journalists in Iraq.
The popular conceit that American “values” are inherently antithetical to the torture and killing of journalists renders invisible the victims of US torture and killing policies. Propagating such myths in the name of advocating for justice for Jamal Khashoggi only serves to bury the Khashoggi-like skeletons in America’s closet further out of sight.