Cuts to food stamps are about to hit in America
B Y DAYBREAK in Santa Fe, the line of cars already snakes down the street. Families in sedans, builders in trucks and one off-duty taxi queue up to get frozen chicken, a sack of potatoes and a gallon of milk. Everyone in line at the Food Depot, a food bank, gets served, but one couple in their 50s arrived at 5:20am just to be sure. They receive money for food through the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Programme ( SNAP ), a federal welfare programme. It lasts them five days.
The Epstein uproar has revealed an unexpected danger—for the president—of a Justice Department that seems partisan
Fed up with the traditional joints, these businesswomen are shooting their shot
What happens when a president sues a press baron?
The cost of replacing ageing ICBMs is soaring as a new arms race looms
A vast right-wing conspiracy comes for the president
The college drop-out fighting to preserve Donald Trump's youth vote
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The Guardian
2 hours ago
- The Guardian
The simple way Democrats should talk about Trump and Epstein
Democrats must not let Jeffrey Epstein die. They must highlight how this saga exposes the president for who he has always been. In the decade Teflon Don has spent on the national stage, no scandal has stuck to and haunted him quite so viscerally as the Epstein affair. He's never before appeared so flustered, forced to answer question after question about the women and girls whose lives were destroyed by his former 'best friend'. The world may never know what is inside the so-called 'Epstein files.' What is clear is that the contents are damaging enough for the president and his human flak jackets to call the whole affair a 'hoax', recess Congress to prevent a vote on releasing the materials and send the deputy attorney general to visit Tallahassee, Florida, to speak to the convicted child sex trafficker Ghislaine Maxwell, who was subsequently moved to a 'cushy', celebrity-riddled minimum security prison in Bryan, Texas. As the conservative pundit Bill Kristol noted over the weekend: '[Richard Nixon] said of Watergate, 'I gave them a sword. And they stuck it in, and they twisted it with relish.' Trump may have given us a sword. We should use it.' Kristol is right, to a point. Liberals, progressives and never-Trump Republicans must not let voters forget Trump's festering, open wound without neglecting the kitchen table, cost-of-living matters that hurt them last fall. In 2007, a far sharper and far more spry Joe Biden delivered a quip so clever and cutting that it ended another man's entire political career. Rudy Giuliani was never able to recover after Biden observed how it seemed 'there's only three things he mentions in a sentence: a noun, a verb, and 9/11'. The line was funny because it was true; it was lethal because it exposed the emptiness behind the former New York City mayor's tragedy-fueled candidacy. This is the challenge for Democrats: how do they maintain a spotlight on a scandal that reveals Trump for who he is in a way that finally resonates with his base without appearing to exploit a tragedy , à la Giuliani? They must ground the abstract conspiracy in everyday terms relatable to the average American. It goes like this: Trump protects elites. Say it in every stump speech, vent about it in vertical videos and keep it alive as a dominant narrative in the zeitgeist. Do not back away. The modern media environment rewards repetition and omnipresence, so Hakeem Jeffries should promise an Epstein select committee, Chuck Schumer should make Republicans release the Epstein files in return for votes to fund the government, and every leftwing activist in the country should be burying Pam Bondi's justice department in a blizzard of Freedom of Information Act requests. In doing so, recognize that the response to the scandal is an encapsulation of a deeper truth that voters already feel. The president and the GOP protect the elite at the expense of ordinary Americans. Savvier Democrats get this. Some of the party's best communicators have already been grasping for a message along these lines, as seen in the focus on Elon Musk's 'department of government efficiency' (Doge) and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Bernie Sanders's nationwide Fighting Oligarchy tour. But while those efforts have paid some political dividends, they have not come close to capturing the public imagination to the degree the Epstein files have. For at least some portion of the Maga movement, the past three weeks have finally managed to expose Trump for the hobnobbing, name-dropping, pompous ass that he's always been. Why is this one particular story so effective – especially as most voters have known Trump to be a plutocratic wannabe for decades? Maggie Haberman's hypothesis is noteworthy: New York high society operates in two concentric circles. The Big Apple has a glittering 'elite' with status at the center of a broader ring that wields power. Trump has always tried to straddle those rings, painting himself as the renegade billionaire. The Epstein affair shatters that mythos. It casts him not as a brash, bull-in-a-china-shop outsider but as the ultimate insider, rubbing shoulders with the very aristocracy his campaign rhetoric promised to upend. Democrats must lead with Epstein. Then they need to connect it to the president's myriad failures. Why did Trump cut taxes for the richest Americans while cutting Medicaid in the One Big Beautiful Bill Act? For the same reason he is protecting Epstein and his buddies. Why is Trump risking union jobs in auto manufacturing so he can have a trade spat with Mexico and Canada? For the same reason he is protecting Epstein and his buddies. Why is Donald Trump talking about firing the head of the Fed? For the same reason he is protecting Epstein and his buddies. Mallory McMorrow of Michigan, a Democratic Senate candidate, is already reading from this script. In recent weeks, she has demonstrated mastery in pairing Epstein with broader anti‑elite rhetoric. In one vertical video, she emphatically declared: This is exactly why there's eroding trust in our institutions, because until we confront the rot that exists in our institutions, until we hold everyone, everyone accountable under the same set of rules and laws, we will keep living in a country where there are two systems of justice, one for the rich and powerful, and one for everybody else. We deserve better. Release the files now. Trump's friendship with Epstein is a proof point for elite favoritism and all of us who oppose the orange god king must use it to condemn inequality and unaccountable power within the GOP ecosystem. The Epstein scandal has captured our attention not just because it's a lurid horror story, but because it confirms a truth people already believe: the rich view them as objects for exploitation. And if there's one thing Trump has successfully messaged to all Americans, it's that he's very, very rich. Epstein is the story. But he is also a stand-in for every closed maternity ward in a rural county, for every mom choosing between insulin and groceries and for every veteran battling the Department of Veterans Affairs while Silicon Valley billionaires buy senators. Democrats' message is simple enough, actually: 'Trump and the GOP protect the elite. They abandon you.' Think this messaging can be overdone? Look no further than Benghazi, a truly made-up scandal, which Republicans turned into a true political liability with Hillary Clinton's emails. That story stuck because of repetition and omnipresence, but also because it struck a chord with something Americans already believed: that the Clinton family viewed themselves as above accountability. Even Trump's own supporters are asking hard questions. Where are the files? Why is there a two-tiered system of justice? Why is Trump more interested in protecting his friends than releasing the truth? The Democratic response should be a noun, a verb and Jeffrey Epstein, and then the rot at the core of the American system. Deployed effectively, it can be as impactful and as memorable as Trump's cruel but devastating 2024 attack line: 'Kamala is for they / them, President Trump is for you.' Trump protects elites. That's why Trump is protecting Epstein's circle. But who's protecting you? Peter Rothpletz is a Guardian contributor
The Guardian
3 hours ago
- The Guardian
The simple way Democrats should talk about Trump and Epstein
Democrats must not let Jeffrey Epstein die. They must highlight how this saga exposes the president for who he has always been. In the decade Teflon Don has spent on the national stage, no scandal has stuck to and haunted him quite so viscerally as the Epstein affair. He's never before appeared so flustered, forced to answer question after question about the women and girls whose lives were destroyed by his former 'best friend'. The world may never know what is inside the so-called 'Epstein files.' What is clear is that the contents are damaging enough for the president and his human flak jackets to call the whole affair a 'hoax', recess Congress to prevent a vote on releasing the materials and send the deputy attorney general to visit Tallahassee, Florida, to speak to the convicted child sex trafficker Ghislaine Maxwell, who was subsequently moved to a 'cushy', celebrity-riddled minimum security prison in Bryan, Texas. As the conservative pundit Bill Kristol noted over the weekend: '[Richard Nixon] said of Watergate, 'I gave them a sword. And they stuck it in, and they twisted it with relish.' Trump may have given us a sword. We should use it.' Kristol is right, to a point. Liberals, progressives and never-Trump Republicans must not let voters forget Trump's festering, open wound without neglecting the kitchen table, cost-of-living matters that hurt them last fall. In 2007, a far sharper and far more spry Joe Biden delivered a quip so clever and cutting that it ended another man's entire political career. Rudy Giuliani was never able to recover after Biden observed how it seemed 'there's only three things he mentions in a sentence: a noun, a verb, and 9/11'. The line was funny because it was true; it was lethal because it exposed the emptiness behind the former New York City mayor's tragedy-fueled candidacy. This is the challenge for Democrats: how do they maintain a spotlight on a scandal that reveals Trump for who he is in a way that finally resonates with his base without appearing to exploit a tragedy , à la Giuliani? They must ground the abstract conspiracy in everyday terms relatable to the average American. It goes like this: Trump protects elites. Say it in every stump speech, vent about it in vertical videos and keep it alive as a dominant narrative in the zeitgeist. Do not back away. The modern media environment rewards repetition and omnipresence, so Hakeem Jeffries should promise an Epstein select committee, Chuck Schumer should make Republicans release the Epstein files in return for votes to fund the government, and every leftwing activist in the country should be burying Pam Bondi's justice department in a blizzard of Freedom of Information Act requests. In doing so, recognize that the response to the scandal is an encapsulation of a deeper truth that voters already feel. The president and the GOP protect the elite at the expense of ordinary Americans. Savvier Democrats get this. Some of the party's best communicators have already been grasping for a message along these lines, as seen in the focus on Elon Musk's 'department of government efficiency' (Doge) and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Bernie Sanders's nationwide Fighting Oligarchy tour. But while those efforts have paid some political dividends, they have not come close to capturing the public imagination to the degree the Epstein files have. For at least some portion of the Maga movement, the past three weeks have finally managed to expose Trump for the hobnobbing, name-dropping, pompous ass that he's always been. Why is this one particular story so effective – especially as most voters have known Trump to be a plutocratic wannabe for decades? Maggie Haberman's hypothesis is noteworthy: New York high society operates in two concentric circles. The Big Apple has a glittering 'elite' with status at the center of a broader ring that wields power. Trump has always tried to straddle those rings, painting himself as the renegade billionaire. The Epstein affair shatters that mythos. It casts him not as a brash, bull-in-a-china-shop outsider but as the ultimate insider, rubbing shoulders with the very aristocracy his campaign rhetoric promised to upend. Democrats must lead with Epstein. Then they need to connect it to the president's myriad failures. Why did Trump cut taxes for the richest Americans while cutting Medicaid in the One Big Beautiful Bill Act? For the same reason he is protecting Epstein and his buddies. Why is Trump risking union jobs in auto manufacturing so he can have a trade spat with Mexico and Canada? For the same reason he is protecting Epstein and his buddies. Why is Donald Trump talking about firing the head of the Fed? For the same reason he is protecting Epstein and his buddies. Mallory McMorrow of Michigan, a Democratic Senate candidate, is already reading from this script. In recent weeks, she has demonstrated mastery in pairing Epstein with broader anti‑elite rhetoric. In one vertical video, she emphatically declared: This is exactly why there's eroding trust in our institutions, because until we confront the rot that exists in our institutions, until we hold everyone, everyone accountable under the same set of rules and laws, we will keep living in a country where there are two systems of justice, one for the rich and powerful, and one for everybody else. We deserve better. Release the files now. Trump's friendship with Epstein is a proof point for elite favoritism and all of us who oppose the orange god king must use it to condemn inequality and unaccountable power within the GOP ecosystem. The Epstein scandal has captured our attention not just because it's a lurid horror story, but because it confirms a truth people already believe: the rich view them as objects for exploitation. And if there's one thing Trump has successfully messaged to all Americans, it's that he's very, very rich. Epstein is the story. But he is also a stand-in for every closed maternity ward in a rural county, for every mom choosing between insulin and groceries and for every veteran battling the Department of Veterans Affairs while Silicon Valley billionaires buy senators. Democrats' message is simple enough, actually: 'Trump and the GOP protect the elite. They abandon you.' Think this messaging can be overdone? Look no further than Benghazi, a truly made-up scandal, which Republicans turned into a true political liability with Hillary Clinton's emails. That story stuck because of repetition and omnipresence, but also because it struck a chord with something Americans already believed: that the Clinton family viewed themselves as above accountability. Even Trump's own supporters are asking hard questions. Where are the files? Why is there a two-tiered system of justice? Why is Trump more interested in protecting his friends than releasing the truth? The Democratic response should be a noun, a verb and Jeffrey Epstein, and then the rot at the core of the American system. Deployed effectively, it can be as impactful and as memorable as Trump's cruel but devastating 2024 attack line: 'Kamala is for they / them, President Trump is for you.' Trump protects elites. That's why Trump is protecting Epstein's circle. But who's protecting you? Peter Rothpletz is a Guardian contributor
The Guardian
3 hours ago
- The Guardian
The inside story of the Murdoch editor taking on Donald Trump
The danger posed to Donald Trump was obvious. It was a story that not only drew attention to his links to a convicted sex offender, it also risked widening a growing wedge between the president and some of his most vociferous supporters. The White House quickly concluded a full-force response was required. It was Tuesday 15 July. The Wall Street Journal had approached Trump's team, stating it planned to publish allegations that Trump had composed a crude poem and doodle as part of a collection compiled for Jeffrey Epstein's 50th birthday. The claim would have been damaging at any moment, but the timing was terrible for the president. The Epstein issue was developing into the biggest crisis of his presidency. Strident Maga supporters had been angered by the Trump administration's refusal to release government files relating to the late sex offender. Trump and his loyal press secretary, Karoline Leavitt, reached for the nuclear option. From Air Force One, they called the Journal's British editor-in-chief, Emma Tucker. They turned up the heat. Trump fumed that the letter was fake. Drawing wasn't his thing. Threats were made to sue, a course of action he had previously unleashed against other perceived media enemies. Washington DC began to hum with rumours that the Journal had a hot story on its hands. When no article materialised on Wednesday, some insiders perceived a growing confidence within the White House that their rearguard action had killed the story. They were wrong. DC's gossip mill had reached fever pitch by Thursday afternoon. The article finally emerged in the early evening. The city collectively stopped to read. In the hours that followed publication, the tension intensified. Trump revealed he had confronted Tucker, stating the story was 'false, malicious, and defamatory'. By Friday, he had filed a lawsuit suing the Journal and its owners for at least $10bn (£7.6bn). Tucker was at the centre of a maelstrom of stress and political pressure. It was the greatest challenge of her two and a half years heading the Journal, but far from the first. Two months in, having been parachuted in from London, she was fronting a campaign to have the reporter Evan Gershkovich returned from a Russian prison. She had also faced denunciations from journalists as she pushed through a modernisation drive that included brutal layoffs. Her plans focused on giving stories a sharper edge. On that metric, the Trump call suggested she was overachieving. Throughout her rise, an enigmatic quality has surrounded Tucker. Friends, colleagues and even some critical employees describe an amiable, fun and disarmingly grounded person. Many regarded her ability to retain such qualities in the treacherous terrain of the Murdoch empire as uncanny. The puzzle is exacerbated by the assumption she does not share the rightwing, pro-Brexit views of Rupert Murdoch, News Corp's legendary mogul. Yet Murdoch doesn't hand the Journal to just anyone. While the pro-Maga Fox News is his empire's cash cow, the Journal is his prized possession, giving him power and respectability in wider US political circles, as the Times does in the UK. So, why Tucker? The answer, according to people who have worked with her, is her possession of two qualities Murdoch rates highly: a willingness to make unpopular decisions for the sake of his businesses and a lust for a politically contentious scoop. Lionel Barber, a former Financial Times editor who also worked with Tucker for the FT in Brussels, said: 'She has a very sharp nose for a good news story – always did.' Tucker edited the University of Oxford's student magazine, the Isis, and joined the FT as a graduate trainee. 'She was a very convivial colleague, great company and good on a night out, but you knew when it came down to the work, she would nail it,' said a colleague. 'Very hard-nosed.' After stints in Brussels and Berlin, she won a powerful ally in Robert Thomson, then the FT's foreign editor. Thomson became a close friend to Murdoch, a fellow Australian, while working in the US for the FT. Thomson jumped ship to edit the Times of London in 2002 and in 2008 was dispatched to New York to oversee Murdoch's freshly acquired Journal. Before he went, Thomson helped lure Tucker to the Times, where she eventually became deputy editor. It was her elevation to editor of the Sunday Times in 2020 that seems to have impressed Murdoch. She showed a willingness to make difficult staffing decisions and widened the Sunday Times's digital ambitions, recasting the pro-Brexit paper to appeal to a wider audience. It was there she made an enemy of her first populist world leader. Just months into her tenure, the Sunday Times published a damning account of how Boris Johnson, the then UK prime minister, had handled the Covid pandemic. Downing Street erupted, taking the unusual step of issuing a lengthy rebuttal, denouncing 'falsehoods and errors'. The paper was called 'the most hostile paper in the country' to Johnson's government, despite having backed him at the previous year's election. Rachel Johnson, the former prime minister's sister, is one of Tucker's closest friends. 'I don't think she was ever reckless,' said one Sunday Times staffer. 'But I think she absolutely wanted to push the boundaries of getting as much into the public domain as she possibly could.' Many assumed Tucker's destiny was to edit the Times, but she was catapulted to New York to run the Journal at the start of 2023, immediately embarking on a painful streamlining process. Senior editors were axed. Pulitzer prize winners ditched. The DC bureau, the most powerful, was particularly targeted with layoffs and new leadership. One reporter spoke of people crying, another of the process's serious mental impact. It made Tucker's editorship divisive, leading to the extraordinary spectacle of journalists plastering her unoccupied office with sticky notes denouncing the layoffs. Even some who accepted cuts questioned the methods. Several pointed to the use of 'performance improvement plans', with journalists claiming they had been handed unrealistic targets designed to push them out the door. One described it as 'gratuitously cruel'. A Journal spokesperson said: 'Performance improvement plans are used to set clear objectives and create a development plan that gives an employee feedback and support to meet those objectives. They are being used exactly as designed.' The Tucker enigma re-emerged at the Journal, as staff noted the same mix of personable demeanour, enthusiasm for stories and willingness to make cuts. 'She's very emotionally intelligent – like, the 99th percentile,' said one. They said morale had improved more recently. New hires have followed. A cultural shift on stories also arrived. What emerges is a Tucker Venn diagram. At its overlapping centre lie stories with two qualities: they cover legitimate areas of public importance and aim squarely at eye-catching topics with digital reach. Tucker gave investigative reporters the examples of Elon Musk and China as two potential areas. Some complained the topics were 'clickbaity'. However, one journalist who had had reservations conceded: 'Musk turned out to be a pretty good topic.' Tucker's use of metrics around web traffic and time spent reading a story irked some reporters. Headlines were made more direct. Honorifics such as 'Mr' and 'Mrs' were ditched. There was a ban on stories having more than three bylines. 'She loosened a lot of the strictures that we had,' said one staffer. 'We're encouraged to write more edgy stories.' Positioning the Journal as a punchy rival to the liberal New York Times juggernaut may be a good business plan, but doing so while not falling foul of Murdoch's politics remains a delicate balance. 'There's a particular moment now where the Wall Street Journal has to prove its mettle as the pre-eminent business and financial markets media organisation,' said Paddy Harverson, a contemporary of Tucker's at the FT, now a communications executive. 'They're up against Trump, yet they have an historically centre-right editorial view. She has guided the paper along that tightrope really well.' Allies said Tucker laid a marker of intent in terms of punchy stories when she published an article on the alleged cognitive decline of Joe Biden. It was initially described as a 'hit piece' by the Biden administration. Some see the Epstein story as the latest evidence of Tucker's shift. There are journalists, however, who blame Trump's response for giving the story attention it simply didn't warrant. Others disagree about the extent of Tucker's changes, pointing to the Journal's history of breaking contentious stories, including the hush money paid to Stormy Daniels. However, the net result of the Epstein letter saga has been to draw attention to Tucker's attempted change in tone. Trump's lawsuit means the furore may only just be beginning. Many seasoned media figures assume Murdoch, who does not respond well to bullying, will not back down. However, neither billionaire will relish having to face depositions and disclosures. Any settlement from Murdoch could put pressure on Tucker, depending on its details. Dow Jones, which publishes the Journal, has said it has 'full confidence in the rigour and accuracy of our reporting, and will vigorously defend against any lawsuit'. The courts may yet reject Trump's case. 'I don't think [Murdoch] will just flop over,' said Barber. 'The issue here is that Trump went around boasting that he killed the story … For an editor, that's very difficult. But I'm pretty damn confident there's no way [Tucker] would publish without having it properly sourced.'
