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20 hours ago, Fulham Broadway said:

Israel blowing up laptops and walkie talkies now in Lebanon and Syria - children maimed and murdered. 

The Israeli regime is a danger to its own people - only time before Israeli civilians will be killed in return

That sounds like science fiction come true. I'm surprised that this can be done if Israel did it. 

But has Israel said they done that? Because I'm surprised they have that ability to do that. 

I wonder if someone can do the same with our phones? Can they make our phones blow up from afar? 
 

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1 hour ago, Fernando said:

 

But is it really Israel that did that?

And if they did that, that's insane!

How can you do something like that? 

 

Simple. They intercepted the shipment of pagers from Taiwan to Lebanon, loaded thousands of the pagers them with explosives that could be triggered remotely, and sent the shipment back on its way to Lebanon. 

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41 minutes ago, Vesper said:

Simple. They intercepted the shipment of pagers from Taiwan to Lebanon, loaded thousands of the pagers them with explosives that could be triggered remotely, and sent the shipment back on its way to Lebanon. 

Oh interesting, it's much different then what I was thinking. lol 

I thought it was some crazy technology that you can do it with any electronic in the world. Like the power to control every technology in the world with one button. I watch too much scifi

 

Edited by Fernando
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3 hours ago, Fernando said:

Oh interesting, it's much different then what I was thinking. lol 

I thought it was some crazy technology that you can do it with any electronic in the world. Like the power to control every technology in the world with one button. I watch too much scifi

 

Yeah it's likely possible to overheat a device with hacking: just need to find the instructions that generate the most heat and make them spin faster. Some devices would break in specific ways, and some could potentially explode, but that'd be a design flaw in my book. 😆

Actually putting explosives inside the devices is far more effective eh.

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5 hours ago, Vesper said:

Simple. They intercepted the shipment of pagers from Taiwan to Lebanon, loaded thousands of the pagers them with explosives that could be triggered remotely, and sent the shipment back on its way to Lebanon. 

You don't know where they will be stored and it was n't maximum security.
I shipped a piece of furniture from England to Greece once upon a time and it came via Yokohama !
It was no mistake as I phoned the British company to ask what was happening and they said "there is no problem sir, but the ship has to go to Yokohama first" !
So the Israelis break into a depo and do their stuff and then wrap up everything as original.

There are other ways of doing it such as inserting an active voltage into a device.
In a post 1984 world we are all going to have a chip embedded in our head -or shoulder maybe- and this if we don't behave will be fed with an active voltage causing an electrical shock.
This of course requires a system of antennas to be placed perimetrically around the cities for big brother's signals to travel, but in any case it's not normally possible with the devices we normally carry now.
So the Israelis did what I said before.
There is a rumour that they done Yassir Arafat the same way. Somehow they got hold of his medicins, replaced them with poison and then put them back in their boxes.


 

Edited by cosmicway
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How Nietzsche used philology to explore morality

The value of our values

When Nietzsche used the tools of philology to explore the nature of morality, he became a ‘philosopher of the future’

https://aeon.co/essays/nietzsches-ideas-about-morality-were-shaped-by-philology

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In Human, All Too Human (1878), Friedrich Nietzsche wrote that ‘A lack of historical sense is the original failing of all philosophers.’ In accusing philosophy of lacking historical sense, Nietzsche was echoing broader trends in 19th-century thought. In comparison with the ‘philosophical’ 18th century, the 19th century is sometimes described as the ‘historical’ century, one in which investigation into more universal features of human reason gave way to increased focus on how particular historical trajectories influence language, culture and moral assumptions.

The 19th century is also what one might call the ‘philological century’. Philology is the critical study of written sources, including their linguistic features, history of reception and cultural context. Today, the term sounds outmoded, evoking dusty, learned tomes of fastidious source criticism. However, philology was a leading intellectual discipline in 19th-century Germany due to a flurry of methodological developments that revolutionised our understanding of ancient and sacred texts. New rigorous techniques of verifying sources were developed, merely speculative hypotheses were discouraged, more detailed comparative studies of language were conducted. While such methods were scholarly, sometimes bordering on scholastic, their application had significant cultural impact, spilling out of scholarly journals into broader public consciousness.

Nietzsche imbibed these trends as a young man. An all-round talented student (mathematics was a notable exception), he gained admittance as a 14-year-old to Schulpforta, one of the most prestigious humanistic schools in Germany. A training ground for scholars and teachers, the school’s specialty was classical antiquity, and Nietzsche received a rigorous education in Greek and Latin, read historical works by Voltaire and Cicero, and wrote philological treatises on topics such as the saga of Ermanarich and the Greek poet Theognis.

This philological education informed not only his early works that deal directly with Greek antiquity, such as The Birth of Tragedy (1872), but also his later books on morality and moral psychology. Appreciating this philological influence is crucial for understanding the significance of his philosophically most important work, On the Genealogy of Morality (1887), and the ‘genealogical’ method of philosophy it has inspired.

On the Genealogy of Morality is a puzzling book. It deals with many classic topics of moral philosophy, such as the concept of good, free will, moral responsibility and guilt. However, it does not investigate them in a typical philosophical fashion – for instance, by asking ‘What is good?’ or ‘Do we have free will?’ Rather, it takes a historical approach, asking where our ideas about the good, or free will, or guilt, have come from.

Nietzsche’s answers to these historical questions were and continue to be, to put it mildly, controversial. Not for nothing did he describe himself as ‘dynamite’. For instance, he argued that contemporary Western egalitarian and altruistic assumptions were a form of ‘slave morality’ that emerged from the frustrations and ressentiment (roughly, resentment) of a priestly caste. This slave morality was a reaction against what Nietzsche calls ‘master morality’, an archaic ethics that emphasises virtues of excellence, health and respect for social hierarchy. Master morality valorises strength and denigrates the meekness and bookish intellectualism of the religious leaders of the priestly caste. In response, according to Nietzsche, the religious leaders invented a new evaluative framework in which they come out on top – one in which aggressiveness is classified as ‘evil’ and meekness and altruism as ‘good’ – a revaluation of existing values. These moral assumptions are then taken up by the lower slave caste, as they valorised their lowly status and enabled them to reinterpret their impotence as principled choice. In sum, on Nietzsche’s view, many of our fundamental moral assumptions derive from archaic status competition.

What has puzzled many readers of Nietzsche’s genealogy is how these historical claims are supposed to be relevant to philosophical questions about morality. Nietzsche states that his ultimate aim is to assess ‘the value of our values’, but it is not clear how his historical claims could or should contribute to this assessment. In turning to history, it might seem that Nietzsche is simply shifting the subject of moral philosophy, following the adage that if you don’t like what is being said, then you should change the conversation. After all, the question of where our values come from just seems like a different question from philosophical questions about their nature, value and authority. If Nietzsche is trying to use this history to answer these philosophical questions, then it might seem he is committing a fallacy, the ‘genetic fallacy’.

Showing that something has a bad origin isn’t sufficient to show that it is bad

The genetic fallacy is the purported mistake of evaluating something on the basis of its origin or past characteristics. For instance, imagine a friend tells you that you should not wear a wedding ring because wedding rings originally symbolised ankle chains worn by women to prevent them from running away from their husbands (the example is from Attacking Faulty Reasoning (7th ed, 2012) by T Edward Damer). Even if wedding rings have such a dubious history, this history does not show that it is bad or objectionable to wear them now. When Nietzsche suggests that he should reevaluate Christian morality on the basis of this origin story, we might suspect he is employing a similar type of fallacious reasoning.

Concerns about falling prey to the genetic fallacy are part of what explain moral philosophy’s lack of a historical sense. Showing that something has a bad origin isn’t sufficient to show that it is bad, as the previous examples indicate. Neither does examining the origins of our values seem necessary for evaluating them. To evaluate our moral beliefs and practices, it seems that we need only look at the reasons for and against them, not the causes of our beliefs in them. For instance, to criticise egalitarianism, we should consider potential objections to egalitarian attitudes, such as that they recommend levelling down, prevent the achievement of human excellence, or fail to honour supposed differences in moral desert. Whatever one thinks of these criticisms, it seems that making and assessing them does not require looking at the history of our values. If these points are correct, we can see why moral philosophy would proceed ahistorically: if moral philosophy aims to critically scrutinise the value of our values, and origin stories are neither necessary nor sufficient for this purpose, then origin stories are irrelevant to moral philosophy.

Nietzsche thought this reasoning mistaken, although exactly why he thought so is a matter of scholarly dispute. His historical critique is typically understood in one of two ways: either he held that historical information was directly relevant to the authority or justification of moral norms, or he held it was indirectly relevant by providing evidence that moral attitudes are motivated by ressentiment and/or hinder great human achievements.

To grasp how history might be directly relevant to the status of our values, we might begin by acknowledging that the value of many human artefacts depends on their history – Picasso paintings are more valuable than perfect replicas because they come from Picasso and not from a copyist, and your family heirlooms hold special value because of their historical connection to your family. Something similar may be true of our values.

For instance, if our values include or imply commands, then their history might be relevant to their authority, our obligation to obey them. Many commands depend for their authority on the authority of the commander, and vengeful clergy with status anxiety do not seem like authoritative commanders. More specifically, one might think that the authority of moral commands depends on their coming from God or pure reason, so insofar as historical investigation reveals that they derive from a secular ‘human, all too human’ source, then history might undermine their authority. If Christian values turn out to have been born from resentment, then that, on this sort of argument, undermines their value to us today. In a similar way, philological work that traces the Bible back to secular origins might undermine the authority of the moral teachings contained within it by undermining the claim that those teachings come from God or Jesus.

Another way that the status of our values may depend directly on their history is if they include or imply beliefs about value claims, as historical information can affect whether our beliefs are justified. I might destabilise a belief by coming to know that the process by which I acquired that belief is unreliable. For instance, say I believe a rumour that my grandfather used to pilfer money from the church collection jar, and I acquired this belief from my father. However, I then learn that my father heard this rumour from his brother, who is a notorious liar and resentful of his strict religious upbringing. Given that my belief traces back to an unreliable source, I might reasonably think that my belief is no longer justified.

If moral norms were originally motivated by ressentiment, then this directly ‘taints’ them in some fashion

Similarly, it might be that we acquired our moral beliefs from our parents (and broader culture), who acquired them from their parents (and broader culture), all the way back to the vengeful clergy. But if vengeful clergy are not a reliable guide to the moral truth, then I should distrust my parents’ teachings and therefore my moral beliefs. Nietzsche’s historical story might therefore help emancipate us from illusions by exposing information that challenges our faith in cherished but unjustified assumptions.

These points about authority and justification are points that philosophers sometimes make about the relevance of history for moral philosophy, and it is possible that Nietzsche was making points of this kind. However, this interpretation does not capture what many commentators and lay readers typically take to be the main insights of Nietzsche’s text. For instance, when undergraduates read the Genealogy, they usually take with them the idea that Nietzsche’s history shows that much avowed concern with virtue, rightness and justice is less noble than it purports to be – it is motivated by some concoction of petty vengefulness, self-valorisation and resentment against powerful and high-status others. Here, it is Nietzsche’s claims about the particular interests and motives of the priests, warriors and slaves that is crucial, not merely the fact that none of these figures is divine or reliable.

How might these interests and motives play a role in Nietzsche’s critique of morality? Perhaps Nietzsche is assuming that, if moral norms were originally motivated by ressentiment, then this directly renders them objectionable by ‘tainting’ them in some fashion, even if those who conform to them nowadays are not motivated in the same manner. However, Nietzsche need not make this assumption. It is more likely that Nietzsche sees his historical story as relevant in a more indirect manner, as evidence of similar psychological dynamics in contemporary society. On such a view, genealogy is relevant to a critique of morality because it provides evidence that contemporary morality has objectionable features, such as bad motives, that are not themselves historical.

The idea that many avowed moral views have dubious motives is not a hard sell, particularly given modern internet culture. So one might wonder why one need turn to history to make this observation. There are two reasons. First, Nietzsche’s history helps us see these dynamics more clearly by telling a historical story in which they are present in a simple and unmasked form. While contemporary morality is overlaid with complexities and rationalisations, if we look to the past, we can better see psychological dynamics that have now been obscured. History, on this interpretation, is used to unmask the present.

Second, because we are less personally and emotionally invested in viewing past situations in a particular manner, we are better able to take a less credulous, more realistic perspective of it. While we might bristle at thinking that our political convictions are motivated by ressentiment, we are more likely to recognise this dynamic in historically distant others, which then enables us to recognise it more easily in ourselves. Historical perspective prevents us from giving in to wishful thinking.

These points form an important strand of Nietzsche’s thinking. However, there are challenges to reading Nietzsche as using history in this indirect, evidential manner. Such interpretations treat the past as merely a simplified version of the present, differing from contemporary society only in minor ways. Consequently, this approach overlooks the kinds of significant historical change and contingency that are central to historicist perspectives on our social practices. If this account of Nietzsche’s genealogy were the whole story, it would seem that Nietzsche himself would lack a historical sense. If we want to understand how Nietzsche’s Genealogy might honour such historicist assumptions, we should turn to the history of Nietzsche’s genealogical method itself. That is, we should return to philology.

Much philological research in Nietzsche’s time was interested in investigating the way in which ancient and sacred texts are complex composites, with diverging elements stitched together from conflicting sources. For instance, Julius Wellhausen argued that the Pentateuch, the Hebrew Bible, was a human artefact that could be decomposed into four independent sources, each of which originated significantly after Moses (who was previously thought to be the sole author, a kind of ghostwriter for the divine). This source criticism enables us to see the Hebrew Bible less as a unified work and more as an amalgam of distinct elements with differing histories. This information discourages looking to the Bible for a unified theology, and therefore encouraged taking a less theological approach to the Bible generally.

As a teenager at Schulpforta, Nietzsche learned this broad philological approach to ancient texts. For instance, his teacher Friedrich August Koberstein (himself a revered scholar and historian) suggested that he research a poem on the saga of the 4th-century Ostrogoth King Ermanarich. The poem is puzzling because some parts describe Ermanarich as a noble hero while others describe him as a coward and someone who murdered his wife. It is not obvious how readers are supposed to evaluate Ermanarich. Adopting a historical perspective, young Nietzsche argued that these conflicts arise from the fact that the poem does not have a single author but rather derives from a variety of sources – it is a layered construction with some parts from the Near East, others from Germany, as well as some from Denmark and Britain.

Nietzsche traces back different aspects of our moral framework to distinct sources

This broad approach to texts informs Nietzsche’s thinking about contemporary morality, which he describes in the Genealogy’s preface as a ‘long, hard-to-decipher hieroglyphic script’. When we look at our contemporary values, there are some ostensible tensions. For instance, many believe that excellent human achievements deserve special admiration and rewards, but also that it is only fair to receive special rewards for things that one has earned. But excellent human achievements are often due, at least partially, to innate talents that are not earned, so these views seem in tension. Much moral philosophy involves teasing out such intuitive judgments, finding tensions among them, and considering ways of resolving these tensions, much like a theological approach to the Bible involves identifying explicit and implicit theological claims in the text, finding tensions among them, and considering ways of resolving them.

However, Nietzsche’s philological approach is different. Like Wellhausen’s historical analysis of the Hebrew Bible, Nietzsche traces back different aspects of our moral framework to distinct sources. The perfectionist elements come from the warrior caste, the egalitarian ones from the priestly caste and slave caste, and other aspects of our moral framework – such as respect for ancestors – have still other sources. Rather than simply different strands coming together, we have a ‘document’ that has been rewritten and reinterpreted over time, often by those with complex and conflicting motivations. A philological approach to morality understands it as a complex amalgam rather than a unified evaluative framework.

This historical approach differs from more typical forms of moral philosophy because it does not assume that there is a unified answer to questions like ‘What is the good?’, at least if that answer is supposed to fit with many of our intuitive judgments. Rather, it brings out the competing strands of our moral thinking by providing an explanation of their presence that suggests that there won’t be a way to reconcile them. That is, just as a scientific philology of the Bible might undermine the presuppositions of Christian theology – that one will be able to construct a unified theology that fits sacred texts – so too a philology of morality undermines a presupposition of a certain strand of moral philosophy, that there is a unified moral theory that will make sense of our moral assumptions and practices. When one takes the historical perspective, much moral philosophy looks like it is engaged in a hopeless apologetic project of trying to reconcile what cannot be reconciled. There is no higher compromise between masters and slaves.

Now, if Nietzsche’s philological approach were relevant only to philosophical methodology, it might seem of little interest outside academic debate. However, this approach to morality does not just highlight a problem for contemporary moral philosophy. It also highlights a problem for us. For the fact that our modern moral views are fragmented and disunified itself poses problems. It means that it is difficult to act effectively and consistently, as there is no overarching framework for reconciling competing considerations in practical decision-making. It means that we might be committed to assessing ourselves according to conflicting criteria, ensuring that we are never able to measure up to the standards we set for ourselves. It sets us against ourselves. Nietzsche considered this kind of fragmentation and tension in our views a kind of illness, one of the ways in which modern society is sick.

Once one sees how the tools of philology can be applied to morality, it is easy to see how they can be extended to other parts of contemporary culture. If we examine the history of the norms that structure various social identities, we are often able to make salient forms of internal conflict that are latent in everyday life. For example, by examining the history of gender norms, we may more clearly discern tensions within contemporary conceptions of gender – eg, if you’re a woman, you are supposed to be both an angel of the house and a girlboss, and if you’re a man, you need to be an alpha while avoiding being toxically masculine. These competing norms often create conflicts within those who are invested in these identities, and clarifying the conflict may help avoid fruitless and frustrating attempts to reconcile these competing elements.

Of course, fragmentation and tension need not always be negative – there can be productive tensions, as Nietzsche recognised. Later theorists who have wanted to apply this philological approach to the cultural sphere have often aimed to emphasise its emancipatory potential. For example, understanding national histories as multifaceted genealogies, yielding political communities that are complex composites rather than unified cultures, enables one to appreciate the dynamism of cultural richness and challenge simplistic views of cultural homogeneity. ‘Unity’ is not a virtue in every domain.

Stepping back, a central puzzle about Nietzsche is why a self-styled ‘philosopher of the future’ should be so interested in the past. By examining the history of Nietzsche’s historicism, we can discern an answer. If employed critically, philology is not merely a tool for exploring the past but one for actively shaping the future.

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How Republicans Are Waging an All-Out Assault on the Election System: “The Whole Thing Can Fall Apart”

Voting rights advocates warn that Donald Trump and his allies have drastically “scaled up” their election-denial efforts, from lawsuits to rule changes to state board takeovers. “The antidemocracy movement is constantly shape-shifting,” says one expert.
 
 
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Protestors in support of former President Donald Trump gather outside Veterans Memorial Coliseum where Ballots from the 2020 general election wait to be counted on May 1, 2021 in Phoenix, Arizona. The Maricopa County ballot recount came after two election audits found no evidence of widespread fraud in Arizona.Getty Images.

Donald Trump’s lies about his 2020 election loss may be tired and familiar—but the MAGA efforts to undermine the democratic process have only grown more sophisticated over the last four years.

While Trump’s attempts to overturn Joe Biden’s victory were largely haphazard and desperate—culminating in a violent insurrection he continued to defend in his debate against Kamala Harris last week—the former president’s allies have since mounted a much more coordinated attack on the system: They’ve passed laws designed to make it more difficult to vote. They’ve waged a legal campaign to make it easier to contest election results. They’ve even sought more control over the gears of the system, as seen in the takeover of Georgia’s state board of elections by right-wingers earlier this year, which drew praise from Trump himself at a state rally in August and added to fears that Republicans could refuse to certify a Harris victory. Just this week, The Guardian reported that a “behind-the-scenes network of county election officials” in the Peach State is pushing an agenda that would cast doubt over the results before any ballots are even cast.

“It has scaled up,” says Lauren Groh-Wargo, CEO of Fair Fight Action, the Atlanta-based voting rights organization founded by Stacey Abrams. “The right wing has gotten very energized and organized,” she tells me, and is trying to “create the conditions…to be able to overturn the results this time.”

Many roads of election denial run through Mike Johnson, who—in the event that Harris wins and Republicans hold the House—could throw sand in the gears of Harris’s certification at the federal level. Democrats told Politico this week that the House Speaker could scramble the rules of the electoral vote count; convince House Republicans to oppose slates of electors; or even seek to challenge the Electoral Count Act altogether. Meanwhile, governors, under the influence of Trump, might refuse to certify the winner of their respective states—a scenario that nearly 20 former governors have launched a pressure campaign to prevent, as Politico reports. The states most vulnerable to foul play, as Axios notes, include Pennsylvania, Nevada, and Arizona—the last of which notoriously suffers from processing delays, which Trump’s allies could capitalize on to file bogus legal challenges and goad Trump voters into taking radical action.

Taken together, the GOP’s goal would be the same as it was in 2020: to help Trump and others on the MAGA right “steal the election” and erode Americans’ faith in the integrity of the process. However, the means election deniers are using to achieve those ends have intensified, Groh-Wargo says: “There is now one of our two major parties whose entire sort of strategic focus is primarily on the lie of voter fraud and elections.”

The American election process has thus far withstood the attacks, experts emphasize: “We see a system that has been tried and tested and proven itself to be secure,” says Joanna Lydgate, cofounder and CEO of States United Action, a nonpartisan election law organization. Nevertheless, the effort to gum up the democratic process could make things “extraordinarily difficult” this cycle—especially if the November election is close, as is expected. “The antidemocracy movement is constantly shape-shifting,” Lydgate tells me. “And we have to always respond to that.”

Doing so is its own challenge. Officials say the legal challenges remain unlikely to succeed, and election denial itself appears to be a losing issue, but the doubts Republicans are sowing in the system can be destructive on their own: “Our systems are so robust and they are so strong—when you have that overlaying civic faith,” as Arizona secretary of state Adrian Fontes, whose state has been on the front lines of MAGA attacks on democracy, told me at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago last month. “But if you pick up the veil of that civic faith, the whole thing can fall apart really easily, right?”

Indeed, the constant stream of lies has already made many on the right suspicious of the process; a recent CNN poll found that an average of just 15% of Trump voters in six key battleground states expressed confidence in the integrity of elections, and to “try to dissuade them after they’ve made up their minds that there is a problem is…very, very difficult,” as North Carolina secretary of state Elaine Marshall told me in August.

Nearly three quarters of Harris voters in that poll did express confidence in the election processes of their states. But experts and officials warn that the MAGA threat to the system could shake people’s faith in it, even if it holds. “What we always are concerned about is that there is kind of an exhaustion right now,” Lydgate tells me. “What we don’t want to do is make people feel like, Oh well, there are going to be all these threats and challenges, so why even bother?”

The good news: If the election-denial movement has escalated its attacks on the system since 2020, the pro-democracy coalition has also worked to fortify the country’s election infrastructure over the last four years, ramping up efforts to counter the legal attacks and seeking to highlight the threats for voters. “Yes, [Trump] is going to try to do a bunch of things,” Lydgate says. “Those things will not succeed.”

The public, of course, should help make sure of that: “If their vote wasn’t so dang powerful, they wouldn’t be trying to screw with it,” as Groh-Wargo puts it. The MAGA attacks on the election should “motivate people,” she says, “to throw these goons out of office and continue the work to shore up our democracy.”

Edited by Vesper
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UN vote adds to international pressure on Israel over Gaza and West Bank

https://www.semafor.com/article/09/18/2024/un-votes-to-demand-israel-end-occupation-of-palestinian-territories-in-12-months

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The News

The United Nations General Assembly overwhelmingly passed a resolution Wednesday that demands Israel withdraw from the Palestinian territories of Gaza and the West Bank within 12 months. Some 124 members voted in favor, with 14 voting against, including the US, and dozens abstaining.

The resolution is the first to be put forward by the Palestinian Authority since it gained a seat among UN members in the assembly hall this month. The Palestinian UN ambassador called the vote a turning point in the “struggle for freedom and justice,” meanwhile the Israeli ambassador described it as “diplomatic terrorism.”

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SIGNALS

Israel becomes more isolated on the world stage

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Sources:  
The Associated Press, The Washington Post, Al Jazeera

The resolution, though not legally enforceable, is symbolic of the growing global pressure on Israel to reach a ceasefire and hostage return deal in Gaza. The consensus also reinforces Israel’s isolation on the international stage and demonstrates a desire to ratify the power of the International Criminal Court, on whose advisory the Palestinian-drafted resolution was based. The EU said in a statement that the UN General Assembly had “forcibly reaffirmed its commitment” to Palestinian self-determination.

The US keeps up its defense of Israel

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Sources:  
The Associated Press, The Economist

The United States’ UN ambassador, Linda Thomas-Greenfield, opposed the resolution, arguing that it undermined the two-state solution and failed to address Hamas’ role in the conflict in Gaza. The US is Israel’s most powerful international ally but has come under increasing pressure from other nations to oppose Israel’s deadly offensive in Gaza following the Oct. 7 attack. The vote’s passage, The Economist argued, signaled the US’ “weakening clout” over the UN, even as it remains its biggest financial contributor, suggesting that the Americans “stretched by multiple crises” — domestically and internationally — are losing their diplomatic “supremacy.” The outlet argued that resolution or not, Israel was unlikely to be dissuaded from continuing its military offensive in Gaza and the West Bank.

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Endgame: The Risk of a Trump Coup and How to Prevent It

https://washingtonspectator.org/endgame-the-risk-of-a-trump-coup-and-how-to-prevent-it/

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Donald Trump’s plans for overturning the election result if he loses again have become increasingly visible. This year, Team Trump’s attack on our election system encompasses three distinct phases.

In Phase One, state and local officials loyal to Trump—aided and abetted by outside pressure groups and lawyers—erect obstacles designed to suppress votes for Harris, Walz, and Democratic candidates up and down the ballot. The Brennan Center has documented the systemic enactment of laws designed to make it harder for eligible Americans to register, stay on the voter rolls, or vote. These Republican schemes were enabled by the Supreme Court’s shameful decision in Shelby County v. Holder, in which the conservative majority voted 5-4 to narrow the Voting Rights Act.

That opinion, written in 2013 by Chief Justice Roberts (a Republican appointee and life-long crusader against voting rights), led 29 states, including the entirety of the former Confederate States other than Virginia, to enact at least 94 voter suppression laws over the following decade. Those laws recurrently limit absentee voting, permit partisan interference in elections, and threaten the people and processes that make elections work.

Trump’s Phase One strategy now includes massive purges of the voter rolls in key states like Georgia, Michigan, and Wisconsin. It also extends to Republican strongholds such as Florida, which has removed at least one million registered voters since 2022, of whom 90% are reported to be Democrats or unaffiliated; and in Texas as well, where Governor Greg Abbott has trumpeted that state’s removal of another million registered voters—all in the name of election integrity.

Phase Two involves multiple initiatives. First, Trump and his team are sowing fear, uncertainty and doubt about the validity of the elections, with the goal of weakening public confidence in the process and the results, and laying the groundwork for challenges to election outcomes in key jurisdictions that the Trump/Vance ticket actually loses.

Trump supporters have already promised they will challenge electoral count certifications in any swing state in which election officials have found that Trump lost. They are enacting laws that have the goal of enabling them to shut down vote counting and vote certification, such as the new Georgia law that gives power to a new MAGA-controlled Georgia election board to delay and potentially prevent certifications that are adverse to Trump.

There is also the risk of direct action by Trump supporters seeking to physically block electors in states narrowly won by Harris from meeting in compliance with state law to cast, sign, seal up and certify their electoral votes on December 17.  Such illegal and potentially violent interventions would be aimed at preventing the state from submitting its electoral votes in the time and manner required by the ECRA.

In a recently released report, the Center for Media and Democracy (CMD) identified 239 election deniers in eight swing states (Arizona, Georgia, Nevada, New Mexico, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin).  50 are Republicans running for the House or Senate, 6 are Republicans running for state executive office, 102 are sitting state and county election officials, and 81 are leaders of state and county Republican organizations.

While the strategic positioning and overtly anti-democratic views of some of these individuals have gained serious mainstream attention in major media such as The New York Times and The Washington Post, the same level of focus has not been afforded  Phase Three, the MAGA team’s post-election endgame.

Phase Three would be activated should the Harris/Walz electors certified by the states constitute a majority of votes in the Electoral College. Phase Three has three minimum prerequisites. First, MAGA forces must achieve control over at least one house of Congress – and preferably both. Second, they must be united in their determination to overturn the election by decertifying the electoral votes for Harris/Walz in one or more states in which the state executives have certified the Democratic ticket has won. Third, the MAGA-leaning majority of the Supreme Court would have to find that Congress has the power to throw out electoral votes that the Congressional majority doesn’t like.

Let’s look concretely how Team Trump would get there.

Using Control of Congress to Control the Presidential Result

The easiest pathway for the MAGA forces to overturn a Harris victory would be for Republican members of Congress to secure a majority in both houses in the November elections, and then award the presidency to Donald Trump in the upcoming Joint Session of Congress on January 6, 2025.

Following the requirements of the Electoral Count Reform Act (ECRA), the bi-partisan bill enacted in 2022 in response to pervasive election denialism in 2020 and Trump’s orchestration of the January 6 insurrection, at least 20 Senators and 87 Members of the House would first need to notify the Joint Session that they object to the counting of electoral votes in just enough states won by Harris to leave Trump with a majority of the remaining electoral votes.

The objections would presumably cover both of the grounds for rejection as authorized under the ECRA: Republicans would argue that electoral votes were not lawfully certified in the given state or states under the laws of those state(s), and they would contend that votes were not “regularly given,” on the basis of unproven claims of mass voting fraud or other asserted election failures.

Under the ECRA (as with its 1887 predecessor, the Electoral Count Act [ECA]), the two houses of Congress would then meet separately and vote on whether to accept or reject the certification in those selected states. The risk for Trump is that some Republican members would be unwilling to go along with this strategy. But in practice, that risk is primarily in the Senate, as he has effectively purged non-MAGA Republicans in the House.

If Trump can get a MAGA majority in both houses, that partisan majority could reject certifications of just enough states to take away a Harris win in the Electoral College, thereby granting Trump an outright majority of the remaining votes that were certified. Once Trump’s Congressional supporters threw out the electoral votes of the disputed states, Trump would become President.

Any such decision would then immediately be challenged in the Supreme Court.

Tyranny of the Majority

Such an abuse by a MAGA majority control of the House and Senate, and its ratification, would fly in the face of constitutional history. Since the founding of the country, voting for president has always been seen to be a power granted by the Constitution to the states, with state legislatures establishing the rules for determining who has won the electoral votes in the respective states. Indeed, the provision in the Constitution that established the Electoral College, the Presidential Electors Clause, reads, “Each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Electors.” How we count votes for President is a matter in the first instance covered by state law, subject to judicial review, as reflected in Alexander Hamilton’s Federalist Paper No. 78, and not a decision by federal legislators.

Consistent with that framework, Team Harris would argue that neither the 12th  Amendment nor the ECRA allow partisan majorities of Congress to toss out state-certified results of a state’s electoral vote unless they have been first invalidated by the courts. Congress has no constitutional authority to substitute its own judgment to reinterpret state election law. All that the ECRA permits is for Congress to have the right to deal with the unlikely scenario in which a rogue state executive has denied the results of the popular vote, by certifying electors for the losing candidate – or has failed to certify the correct electors based on the popular vote.

Team Harris would state that as a matter of due process and equal protection of the vote, members of Congress do not have the right to disenfranchise a state (or Congressional district) on the basis of claims of “fraud.”  The case for Harris might even cite language from the Supreme Court’s 2000 decision in Bush v. Gore  holding that once a person has been granted the right to vote, it is unlawful to “by later arbitrary and disparate treatment, value one person’s vote over that of another.”

Team Trump would argue that the Constitution and the ECRA do grant the Congress the right to reject any electoral votes they choose. They’d likely cite the language of the 12th Amendment that the President of the Senate “shall, in the presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open all the certificates and the votes shall then be counted.” They could argue that this language is meant to enable them either to assent to those certificates, or to object and seek to invalidate particular certificates of electoral votes.

They could further state that consistent with their interpretation, the ECRA, like the ECA before it, specifically provides a mechanism to make such objections and have them heard. Should a majority of both bodies object to the acceptance of the electoral votes of a particular state, their objections must be sustained, and the votes deducted from the total required for a majority, reducing the number needed for Trump to declare victory based on the total number of electoral votes that remain, in accord with the electoral vote counting procedures set forth in the ECRA.

In this scenario, it would not be unimaginable for the six Republican justices of the Supreme Court who voted to grant Trump “absolute” immunity from criminal prosecution for “official acts” within his “core constitutional powers,” including crimes involving his direction to officials at the Justice Department, to find a similarly breathtaking authority in  the 12th Amendment and ECRA. This wing of the Court could find that a MAGA majority of both chambers of Congress does have the authority to make the final determination of whether particular electoral votes are “regularly certified” or “regularly given,” whatever state officials, state courts, or even federal courts have determined.

Thus, a Harris electoral vote majority could be overridden by a Republican congressional majority in both houses, backed by a MAGA-leaning Supreme Court majority deploying raw political power in a legislative and judicial coup to return an unpopular and, in fact, unelected Trump back in the White House. There he could become, as he has promised, a dictator on “day one.” The despotic end would be achieved through despotic means.

Tyranny of the Minority

Given the risks for democracy of this kind of outcome, some might hope that it would be enough for the Democrats to win a single chamber of Congress – in 2024, this would most likely be the House of Representatives – to prevent MAGA Republicans backed by the Supreme Court from simply handing the Presidency to Trump counter to the expressed will of the American public.

The ECRA expressly says that the electoral votes of a jurisdiction may only be rejected if both chambers of Congress have rejected them. Surely this language expressly protects the country from the risk that an out-of-control majority of a single chamber of Congress might try to overturn a Presidential election by simply refusing to accept the results of one or more states.

Here, Trump partisans might still try an end-run around the ECRA rule designed to prevent a party holding a majority in just one house from kidnapping a Presidential election. Their argument: no one elected to either the Senate or the House is a potted plant. Each body has the right to determine whether to accept an electoral count certificate. The ECRA is therefore unconstitutional in purporting to limit the right of members of either the House or the Senate to pick and choose what electoral votes they will deem to be valid.

Unfortunately, there is precedent for invalidating electoral counts of states on the basis of decisions of just one chamber going back to 1865.  In the wake of the Civil War, Congress enacted the “Twenty-Second Joint Rule,” which created a one-house veto that authorized the House of Representatives to reject electoral votes from former Confederate states. The House then used this authority to unilaterally reject electoral votes in some Confederate states in the Presidential elections of 1865, 1869, and 1873. Accordingly, Team Trump would contend that a majority of the votes of either house is sufficient to throw out electoral votes and to subtract them from the total required for a majority.

In response, the Harris team would likely argue that the Joint Rule was probably unconstitutional. More importantly, whatever authority the post-Civil War Congress may have had to enable one body of Congress to throw out those votes in the aftermath of the Civil War, the current Congress has no such authority now, given the Equal Protection rights guaranteed by the 14th Amendment and the enactment of the ECA in 1887 and the ECRA in 2022.  Each of these legislative acts expressly states that electoral votes may only be rejected by a concurrent decision of the majority of both houses.

It is hard to imagine that even this Supreme Court would rule it lawful for Trump partisans in a divided Congress to reject electoral votes that have been deemed proper by the state’s own legal processes. Furthermore, the Court could be confronted by Democrats in the other chamber engaging in tit-for-tat to invalidate Trump electoral votes, leading to chaos.

The Court, however, would have still another dangerous option to consider.

The Dangerous Solomonic Alternative – Moving to a Contingent Election

The Supreme Court’s MAGA-leaning members could choose an option that appears neutral and fair, but would guarantee that Trump wins. That option would be to find that in cases where the two Houses do not agree on upholding the electoral count certifications in a given state, those votes would not be counted, but also would not be deducted from the total.

To justify this outcome, the Supreme Court might build on the equal protection language from Bush v. Gore, finding that to disenfranchise the voters in some states but not others would violate the principle of equal protection, and would in turn invite the two chambers of Congress to engage in dueling disqualifications whenever they were controlled by different parties.

Perhaps citing Justice Jackson’s famous statement that the Constitution is not a suicide pact,  the MAGA-leaning members of the Court could rule that the portion of the ECRA which mandates that invalidated electoral votes be deducted from the total required for a majority is itself unconstitutional and inconsistent with the 12th Amendment, which requires “a majority of the whole number of Electors appointed” for a candidate to be elected. As neither candidate would then have enough electoral votes to elect a President, the decision would move to a contingent election in the House of Representatives, where a state-by-state vote of the congressional delegations would determine the result.

As I have previously described in detail, such a procedure would almost surely result in the selection of Trump as President. It is almost impossible for Democrats, even if they were to win control of the House of Representatives, to win a majority of the individual state delegations.  Given rampant gerrymandering, in 2025, Republicans are likely to retain control of the majorities in at least 26 of the 50 states.

At that point, a House controlled by a Democratic majority might well have tools to stop, or at least stall, an illegitimate contingent election, and thereby place the Speaker of the House in the White House under the terms of the Presidential Succession Act. But any President (or acting President) entering office as a result of a cooked-up contingent election or by tactics employed to counter one would face a crisis of legitimacy from the outset, amid grave risk of widespread civil unrest.

A Scenario To Save the Republic

All of these nightmare outcomes remain avoidable. Should Harris win, and Trump try to overthrow the election through such legal stratagems, the ultimate safety valve will be for enough congressional Republicans of conscience to opt against disenfranchising the electoral votes of any state.

In a seemingly encouraging development last Thursday, September 12, six Republican members of Congress joined a unity pledge, committing to acknowledge whoever is certified at the joint meeting of Congress in January 2025 as the winner of the election. While a step in the right direction, the pledge does not address the possibility that majorities in either the House or Senate may attempt to overturn a legal certification made at the state level.

To vote against such an attempted coup in a situation in which Republicans controlled both houses would take political courage. But in practice, a few Senate Republicans choosing to uphold the certification of every state whose votes have been certified by its executive and not invalidated by the federal judiciary prior to January 6, 2025 would likely be sufficient to prevent the Senate from taking state-certified electoral votes away from anyone.

Senate Republicans matter most because the Senate is the chamber most likely to be controlled by Republicans in 2025. In 2022, Susan Collins (R-ME), was the principal Senate sponsor of the ECRA. She described its purpose as ensuring that the electoral votes tallied by Congress accurately reflect each state’s vote for President, and recruited other Senate Republicans to join her. Some of those Senators, such as Mitt Romney (R-UT), will have departed by January 6, 2025. But Lisa Murkowski (R-AK), Shelley Moore Capito (R-WV), Todd Young (R-IN), and Lindsey Graham (R-SC), all of whom cosponsored the law, would still be in office.

If this group of Republicans were to join their Democratic colleagues to uphold all of the electoral votes submitted to the Senate by the executives of the various states and the District of Columbia, on January 6, then the Joint Session should be able to elect a President and avoid a major Constitutional crisis without any intervention by the Supreme Court.

Other Republican Senators might even support them to protect their wider institutional interests.

Outgoing Republican leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) has spent decades building a Supreme Court with his personal stamp on it, and might want to protect the Supreme Court from itself, seeking to arrest the Court’s already collapsing legitimacy. There is no love lost between him and Trump. After the January 6 insurrection, McConell made clear that he blamed Trump for inciting the insurrection, privately referring to him as a “son-of-a-bitch” who deserved impeachment.

McConnell could decide it is in his interests to join Collins, Murkowski, and a handful of additional  Republican Senators to keep Trump from illegitimately entering office with the help of the conservative majority on the Supreme Court.

While a rump partisan Republican House could still ask the court to invalidate electoral votes by finding the ECRA’s bicameral requirement unconstitutional, a strong stance by enough Senate Republicans to certify all of the electoral votes in the Senate would provide the Court breathing room to steer the country – and the Court itself – away from the maelstrom and toward the process of healing American democracy in the post-Trump era.

Jonathan M. Winer is a former U.S. Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for International Law Enforcement.

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An Electoral College Tie Would Be a Win for Trump

Looking at some "what-if" scenarios with 45 days to go.

https://www.liberalpatriot.com/p/an-electoral-college-tie-would-be

Over the next 45 days, a tiny fraction of undecided voters across seven swing states (and one swing district) will decide the presidential election. It remains plausible that either candidate could win any mix of the seven. Within these combinations are several potential 269-269 Electoral College ties—an outcome not seen in two centuries.

What might a tied electoral map look like? Would Trump or Harris have the advantage if the election were sent to the House? 

Let’s take a look at three plausible (if still unlikely) tied scenarios.

Scenario One

The “Blue Wall” holds for Harris, but Trump sweeps the four Sunbelt States and ekes out a win in Nebraska’s 2nd congressional district.

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Scenario Two

Trump flips Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Georgia. Harris holds Wisconsin by the narrowest of margins—it’s where she’s polling the best today—and wins Nevada, Arizona, and North Carolina. 

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Scenario Three

A near inverse of the first scenario, Trump outperforms polling in the Midwest and sweeps the “Blue Wall” à la 2016, but Harris keeps Arizona, Georgia, and flips North Carolina.

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Ultimate Scenario: The House Determines the Winner

If one of these scenarios proves correct, the contest would head to the House of Representatives where each state’s delegation (in the next Congress not the current one) receives one vote. In this “contingent election” scenario, Donald Trump would be an overwhelming favorite

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Why? Republicans safely hold 24 delegations and another pair, Iowa and Montana, lean their direction. So if Republicans hold steady, they should comfortably hit 26 votes—enough to send Donald Trump to the White House. In other words, Democrats need a clean sweep of House tossups and a few upsets just to get within striking distance. Let’s examine some of those closely divided states. 

Alaska: Democrat Mary Peltola faces a fierce challenge from Republican Nick Begich. With one at-large congressional district, whoever wins will control the state’s vote. 

Arizona: Republicans currently hold a 6-3 majority, but two of their seats are tossups—Juan Ciscomani’s AZ-6 and Dave Schweikert’s AZ-1. If Democrats can flip both, they would win a majority. 

Colorado: Democrats have a 5-3 advantage, but freshman Rep. Yadira Caraveo represents a Biden +5 district north of Denver that Republicans hope to flip this year. A 4-4 split is the best the GOP can hope for as Colorado continues to move left. 

Maine: Democrats have a 2-0 advantage heading into November. Republicans, however, hope to defeat Blue Dog Jared Golden and force a split. 

Michigan: Democrats took a 7-6 lead after a neutral redistricting amendment took effect in 2022. But Dan Kildee in MI-8 and the open seat (vacated by Elissa Slotkin) in MI-7 are both at risk of flipping red. Democrats do have an offensive opportunity in the 10th District.

Minnesota: The current 4-4 split looks likely to hold barring a Republican upset of Angie Craig in the Minneapolis suburbs. 

Pennsylvania: A 9-8 Democratic advantage is erased if either Susan Wild or Matt Cartwright is defeated in November. Both races are pure tossups at this point. 

It is incredibly difficult to imagine Democrats winning a majority of state delegations. Just about everything would have to go their way—in which case Kamala Harris has likely won anyway.

So, as the election comes down to the wire, remember that in all likelihood Donald Trump’s magic number is 269—not 270.

 

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The myth of civic vs ethnic nationhood

 

The forging of countries

Two distinct and conflicting forms of nationalism – civic and ethnic – helped create the nation-states of Europe

https://aeon.co/essays/the-myth-of-civic-vs-ethnic-nationhood-in-europe-east-and-west

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At around three o’clock, on a warm and beautiful summer day, the headwaiter approached Hans Kohn’s table. It was 1914, and Kohn was tucked away with a friend in the cool and quiet Café Radetzky in the Malá Strana area of Prague, preparing for his upcoming bar examination. Sunday strollers crowded the city’s streets and parks while people chatted over beer and coffee in the open air. All presumably an unwelcome distraction for the two young law students.

The waiter’s hand trembled as he handed them a special edition of a local newspaper. It announced that Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, had been assassinated in Sarajevo. The mood in the country would quickly move from bewilderment to belligerence, driving Austria-Hungary into a disastrous world war. Four years later, the country was gone from the map of Europe.

On that warm June day in 1914, few anticipated a war that would reshape the political map of Europe. When Kohn was mobilised into military service, he had expected to be home by Christmas. Instead, he ended up among the unlucky hundreds of thousands captured by Russian troops and cursed to spend the war deep in the Russian imperial interior.

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Hans Kohn in the uniform of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1914. Courtesy the Leo Baeck Institute New York

By 1920, when Kohn had made it back to Europe, Prague was the capital of Czechoslovakia, one of several new nation-states that had sprouted up during his absence, based on the principle of national self-determination. These new nation-states replaced the vast multinational – or anational – empires that had previously blanketed central and eastern Europe: the others being the German, Russian, and Ottoman Empires.

Conflicts between various nationalist movements had plagued Habsburg-ruled Austria-Hungary in the decades before its collapse. Once the war was obviously lost, the path was open for them to take over from the delegitimised and eventually deposed Habsburg dynasty. An even more radical nationalism would flourish in the successor states of the various empires. Germany under the Nazi regime – the largest of all – elevated racialist nationalism into the organising principle of its eastward conquests, finding no shortage of local collaborators keen to settle scores with their supposed national enemies.

Countless millions would perish in the orgy of violence unleashed by their messianic nationalist dreams, including the majority of Prague’s Jewish community to which Kohn had once belonged. In the wake of the Second World War, 12 million Germans were sent westwards out of fear or retribution. All the Allied powers agreed that the surest guarantee of future stability for central and eastern European nation-states was to have as few ethnic minorities as possible. Kohn’s youth in fin de siècle Austria-Hungary had been spent in one of the most ethnically diverse countries in Europe. By the mid-20th century, its former territories hosted some of its most homogeneous.

For Kohn, the real culprit for the downfall of his multinational homeland was not the war itself, but the force of nationalism that in its waning years exerted such a powerful sway over its people. He was hardly alone in this assessment. For at least three-quarters of a century, central and eastern Europe has served as the prime example of the pitfalls of nationalism. In particular, of the kind of ethnic nationalism that, we are often told, is characteristic of this non-Western world.

It was this particularly central and eastern European ethnic nationalism, this perspective goes, that was responsible for the collapse of the diverse and cosmopolitan Habsburg Monarchy. For the failure of the new democracies that took over from empires in 1918 – Germany, Austria, Poland, Czechoslovakia and others. And for the rise of authoritarian and fascist regimes in their place, the largest of which would go on to perpetrate the most horrific genocide in human history in the Holocaust.

According to this orthodox view, the essentially ethnic nature of central and eastern European nationalism contrasts starkly with that of the Western democracies of France, the United Kingdom and the United States. They are characterised as thoroughly civic nations, based not on supposedly primordial tribal identity, but on common citizenship and a democratic understanding of politics. In all three, the US, UK and France, their civic nationalism is a centuries-old tradition, dating back to their foundation as modern nations.

Kohn was the first historian to systematically seek out the roots of this divergence between the nature of nationhood in the Western democracies, and the central and eastern European countries in his weighty book The Idea of Nationalism (1944). Kohn’s book grew into a foundational work of ‘nationalism studies’ in the Anglophone world and has influenced generations of scholars and readers alike. He did not just see Western and non-Western nationalisms as different, but came to believe they were, in effect, totally different phenomena.

The assimilation of minorities into the dominant ethnicity in Western nation-states was celebrated as progress

Kohn argued that Western nationalisms were ‘based upon liberal middle-class concepts … pointing to a consummation in a democratic world society’, while central and eastern European nationalisms derived from ‘irrational and pre-enlightened concepts … tending towards exclusiveness’. The enlightened Western ones, he claimed, developed in France, the UK and the US, the primordial superstitious ones in Germany, before spreading across the rest of central and eastern Europe and, eventually, the world. The backwardness of all non-Western countries apparently made it all but predetermined that the latter would win out over the former.

While the distinction between these two kinds of nationhood was known to 19th-century thinkers, the notion that ethnic and civic aspects of nationhood were necessarily in conflict, or that one or the other was purely characteristic of a certain part of Europe, was not. Western ‘civic’ nation-states have always been built on the dominance of certain ethnic groups with their own language, traditions and myths of origin and distinctiveness. Indeed, the assimilation of minorities into the dominant ethnicity in Western nation-states was celebrated as progress.

Central and eastern European nationalists did not ‘reject’ the civic values of their Western counterparts but tried to follow them closely. They acknowledged civic rights for all that lived in a given nation-state but sought – like their Western counterparts – to eventually see all ethnic, linguistic or religious minorities assimilated into the general civic nation that was ultimately shaped by the dominant ‘state-forming’ ethnic group.

They were in awe of the assimilatory power of the English language and its culture in Britain or North America, and of the French equivalents ultimately defined in and around Paris. That German or Hungarian nationalists wanted to see Slavs or Jews shed their culture and become true Germans and Hungarians did not reflect some ‘irrational and pre-enlightened’ exclusivism. It simply reflected the reality of the Western nation-state.

Nevertheless, in nationalism studies, this geographic distinction between Western civic and non-Western (or ‘Eastern’) ethnic nationalism remains one of the most deeply engrained orthodoxies. The problem is it simply isn’t true. To understand how this misleading but influential view took shape, it is necessary to understand how the descent into ethnic extremism in early 20th-century central Europe shaped the enduring works of early theorists of nationalism. Many of whom – like Kohn himself – were ultimately shaped by its consequences, their work marked by a deep desire to discover where the histories of their homelands had ‘gone wrong’.

Kohn was born in 1891 in Austria-Hungary, perhaps the most bewildering state in modern European history. In fact, it wasn’t one state at all, but two. The half colloquially referred to as Austria consisted of three kingdoms, six duchies, two archduchies, a grand duchy, two margraviates, two princely counties and a free city, all with their own unique histories, identities, flags, forms of patriotism, celebrations of belonging and more. The other, Hungarian half itself had a kingdom within a kingdom in Croatia-Slavonia.

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Profile portrait of Hans Kohn. Courtesy the Leo Baeck Institute, New York

What united all these political entities was the emperor-king Franz Joseph, who sat atop the Habsburg dynasty that had ruled most of these polities for centuries. With two brief interruptions, the Hapsburg family, from the 15th century to 1866, had acted as hereditary heads of the entirety of today’s Germany, first as Holy Roman Emperors and then as ‘heads of the presiding power’ of the German Confederation, itself consisting of 39 different German states.

This bewildering political tapestry did not make for simple nation-building on the Western model. France and Britain were centralised, but central Europe was decentralised. The former had dominant national languages, but the latter was extremely multilingual. The former had strong centres of political authority, the latter diffuse and overlapping ones. Kohn’s hometown of Prague was the historical capital of the Kingdom of Bohemia sandwiched between the Austrian duchies to the south and the rest of Germany to the north. It was a prime example of the kind of national complexities arising from this complicated Habsburg inheritance.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, Bohemian natives nurtured wildly different visions of their homeland’s place in a possible national state. Most German-speaking Bohemians envisioned it as a part of Germany or a German-dominated Austrian state. Nationally conscious Bohemian Slavs variously imagined it as part of a wider Slavic-Austrian state, a more narrowly ‘Czechoslovak’ one, a purely Czech one, or even a bilingual Czech-German nation-state.

Only after 1871 did the idea that civic borders should conform to ‘objective’ national ones based on ethnic criteria come to prominence

The problem faced by all nationalisms emerging out of central Europe before 1918 was that no ethnic nation was congruent with the state. Insofar as German or Czech-speaking nationalists in Bohemia, for example, saw their nation as the one truly representative of the kingdom, they would have to assimilate their rivals against their will. Or, as Kohn maintained, ‘redraw the political boundaries in conformity with ethnographic demands’, supposedly one of the tenets of ‘non-Western’ nationalisms.

Somewhat bizarrely considering nationalism captivated Europe only in the 19th century, Kohn concluded The Idea of Nationalism with the 18th, content that he had discovered the roots of the two nationalisms by then. Yet the historical record contains very few demands from 18th- or even 19th-century eastern and central Europeans for the redrawing of borders. The first example of ‘objective’ ethnographic measures being used as the basis for border changes in Europe was in the Franco-Prussian War in 1871, and there its goal is only the exchange of a few villages on the initiative of an entrepreneurial statistician.

Only in the decades after 1871 did this idea that civic borders should conform to ‘objective’ national ones based on ethnic criteria come to prominence. Importantly, it arose with the maturity of nationalist movements, not at their birth. For most of the 19th century, we find political or civic nations in central Europe seeking to assert their rights to manage their own affairs while opening up the boundaries of the nation to people of wildly diverse religious or linguistic backgrounds. In return, however, they asked for assimilation, that outsiders identify with the political community of the state and its leading ethnic group. Sometimes – as in Bohemia – competing claims arose about the question of which ethnic group had the right to be identified with the political nation.

Scholars usually date the emergence of modern nationalism to the 18th century. But it’s also true that the word ‘nation’ has been used in Europe for centuries. What changed is the modern claim that nations consist of the ‘masses’ and the modern nationalist assertion of the rights of those masses to statehood. That’s what we call ‘nationalism’.

But for a long time before modern nationalism, the word ‘nation’ frequently referred to political nations in premodern Europe. That is, the nation as a corporate group consisting of those whose rights and privileges marked them out as a distinct group in and above society. Whose privileges made them the group that ruled society, complete with their own language, customs, traditions and identity. This is why one of the great innovations of the French Revolution was the extension of nationhood through political emancipation to the broad masses of French society.

Kohn saw the romantic veneration of the common folk as the root of reactionary non-Western nationalism

The nobilities of the Habsburg-ruled kingdoms – of diverse ethnic and linguistic origins – had strong and well-developed conceptions of belonging to a common nation. So strong, in fact, that they resisted incorporation into the kind of centralised absolutist states characteristic of 18th-century Europe. The Habsburg Monarchy was nearly torn apart by the pressures of such policies pursued by Joseph II, who rescinded most of them on his deathbed in 1790.

In the kingdoms of Bohemia, Hungary and Croatia, nationalism was pioneered in the 19th century by patriotic nobles keen to assert their ‘state right’. That is, their political sovereignty as a corporate nation with the right to manage their own affairs. They were aided by small groups of middle-class publicists and scholars who, under the strong influence of German romanticism, sought to reform and cultivate vernacular languages native to the kingdoms, build narratives of historical continuity for the nations, and educate the broader masses in order to make them productive members of the nation at large. Kohn saw exactly this romantic veneration of the common folk as the root of reactionary non-Western nationalism.

He even claimed in The Idea of Nationalism that, after 1806, local central European elites proclaimed ‘the uniqueness of the folk … as an aggressive factor in the struggle against Western society and civilisation.’ An exaggeration of the role played by some nationalist publicists during the Napoleonic Wars, whose vitriolic anti-French views were more important to Wilhelmine or First World War-era German nationalists than 19th-century ones.

German liberal nationalists of the first half of the 19th century contrasted their envisioned nation-state not with Western society and civilisation, but with the reactionary princely confederation in which they lived. When national revolts broke out in Greece or Poland, German nationalists cheered their fellow Europeans fighting for freedom against despotic regimes. They largely recognised the liberal struggle as a cosmopolitan European one, not as a narrowly German one nor as one that existed in opposition to ‘the West’.

England and France as bastions of progress and civilisation presented models for admiration, emulation, and – occasionally – envy. In the 1830s and ’40s, Hungary’s generation of reform nobles who transformed the country’s social and political life were enamoured by England, as were many German intellectuals. England seemed to represent everything that their countries lacked in terms of national and political life, where the prosperity created by liberal social and political ideas allowed for the full flourishing of national life.

The most difficult question faced by liberal nationalists in ‘non-Western’ countries was not how to redraw borders to make nation and state congruous. It was rather how to reconcile the model provided by France, England or the US with their own circumstances. In other words, how to transform the civic nation from a narrow noble elite to a broader public of educated middle-class men from a confusing collection of linguistically and politically diverse states tied together by the House of Habsburg.

In 1848, a series of revolutions broke out across Europe. Terrified at the sight of disgruntled masses in the streets, European monarchs made once-unthinkable concessions. They called democratically elected assemblies, drafted constitutions and ratified liberal laws. Though by 1850 the revolutions would be defeated – the assemblies closed, constitutions revoked and laws overturned – they had given the middle-class liberal nationalist public its first taste of politics.

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The opening of the Frankfurt Parliament in Paulskirche in 1848. Note the portrait of Germania. Courtesy Wikipedia

In 1848, a German National Assembly formed in Frankfurt where revolutionaries produced the first draft constitution for a German nation-state. Hungary, meanwhile, adopted a raft of liberal legislation in spring 1848 that transformed it into a modern parliamentary state. The realisation of the right of ‘historic’ nations like Hungary and Germany (as well as Italy and Poland) to statehood would have meant a de facto partition of central Europe among these four nation-states. Revolutionaries across Europe celebrated the prospect, dismissing the objections of Czechs, Slovaks or Slovenes who would be subsumed in the German or Hungarian nation-states as the cries of ‘unhistoric’ nations or mere ‘fragments of peoples’.

None of these nationalist movements sought to withhold civic rights to members of ethnic minorities. Rather, they expected them to assimilate, as did those minorities who lived in prosperous, progressive Western states. As one deputy asked in the Frankfurt Parliament in 1848: ‘What would the French say if the Breton, Basque and old Ligurian fragments of peoples declared they no longer wanted to be French?’

Deference to the Western nation-state – where the supposedly most advanced ethnic group in the state had become the core of a democratic civic nation – was a common point made in prerevolutionary Hungary as well. The politician Ferenc Pulszky, who himself had travelled extensively in Britain, asked in the 1840s: ‘What do we Hungarians demand of the Slavs[?] … we demand nothing more than what the English ask of the Celtic inhabitants of Wales and high Scotland, nothing more than the French ask of Brittany and Alsace.’ Pulszky could not see why the civic model of nationhood could work for France but not Hungary.

Perhaps 40 per cent of the country spoke Hungarian – not enough to claim that only Hungarian be used in public life

The Western nation-state was a model for some, but a warning for others. From the enslavement of people of African descent and the displacement of native Americans in the US to the suppression of minority languages and dialects in France to the disenfranchisement of Catholics in the UK and the gradual elimination of Celtic languages, Western nationalisms were predicated on the homogenising force of a dominant national group that gave no quarter to national minorities in public life. Unsurprisingly, representatives of national minorities in German states and in Hungary near-universally refused to accept subordinate status in someone else’s nation-state. Or to recognise that the nation-state belonged to groups that were themselves minorities.

Though Bohemia’s elites overwhelmingly spoke German, the majority of Bohemians were Czech speakers. Hungary, meanwhile, was perhaps the most linguistically diverse country in Europe. German dominated its cities, Hungarian the nobility, and Latin served as the official language until 1844. Yet the masses spoke an array of Slavic, Romance, Germanic and Hungarian vernaculars. Only perhaps 40 per cent of the country spoke Hungarian (even by the 1880 census, it was only 46.5 per cent), a plurality but not enough to claim that only Hungarian could be used in public life.

Given the examples set by Western countries, it makes sense that Hungarian nationalists presumed that the predominant national vernacular would be the linguistic rallying point for national development. France, the US and the UK were all home to enormous ethnic, linguistic and racial minorities. But these minorities were either assimilated to the dominant nationality or excluded from national life altogether.

Conversely, there was little reason to expect that nationally conscious Czechs should have accepted that their state was fundamentally German. Or that Hungary’s numerous nationally conscious minorities – Croats with their own subordinate kingdom, Slovaks concentrated heavily in the north, or Romanians who formed majorities in large swathes of Transylvania – should have accepted the conflation of a Magyar ethnic nation with a Hungarian state. In either case, this had little to do with any kind of distinct idea of nationalism but was caused by inherent contradictions in the model of the idealised Western nation-state in a central European context.

Despite such conflicts and contradictions, central European nationalists did not reject the civic nation. The final draft of the revolutionary constitution produced by the Frankfurt Parliament declared in the most straightforward civic terms: ‘The German people consists of the citizens of the states that form the German Empire.’ In 1868, a year after the creation of Austria-Hungary out of a unitary Austrian Empire, the new Hungarian government wrote into the constitution that there would be only a single Hungarian nation. Multiple ‘nationalities’ were also recognised, but there was only a single civic nation. Anyone could be a member, but they had to speak, dress and effectively become a Magyar.

It was an outrage to minority nationalists, but surely no less of an outrage than the national development of Western nation-states. The French Ministry of Public Instruction found in 1863 that at least a quarter of the country spoke no French at all. For the millions of Occitans in the south – whose Romance tongue was at least related to standard French – to Celtic Bretons in the northwest, rebellious Corsicans and totally unique Basques in the southwest, ‘becoming French’ entailed assimilation into a language and culture that was not quite theirs. The congruence of the French ethnic and civic nations was not a result of pure ideas, but of decades – centuries even – of nation-building.

In the latter half of the 19th century, international statisticians were faced with a seemingly intractable question: how could a nation be measured objectively? From the 1850s, a series of conferences had brought together statisticians from across Europe and North America in an attempt to harmonise how countries collected statistics around the world. In 1872, they endorsed the notion that ‘mother tongue’ could determine the boundaries of nationalities. But this was not a universally recognised measure. The following year, the newly founded International Commission on Statistics tasked three Austro-Hungarians with tackling the problem head-on.

The Austro-Hungarians couldn’t agree. One put forward the civic idea of conscious self-identification, another the ethnic idea that it was ‘racial’, and the third simply argued it was a complicated mix that was difficult to measure universally. The tensions between civic and ethnic nationalisms were on full display, but they had little to do with geography. Their range of opinions came at a time in the late 19th century in which ethnic nationalism was increasingly influential across the continent, inspired by the rise of racialist thinking, eugenics and social Darwinism.

By the turn of the 20th century, young radicals across Europe put forth ethnic conceptions of nationhood in which Jews especially were singled out as being a foreign element supposedly unable to be a member of the political community of the nation. But the appearance of antisemitism did not signal a quick triumph among nationalisms with long traditions of Jewish assimilation. In the years up to 1918, the majority of German Jews insisted that they were simply ‘German citizens of the Jewish faith’. Jews in Hungary were no less assimilated. In Austria and Bohemia, most Jews were German-speakers who similarly identified themselves as German.

Kohn was one such German-speaking Jewish Bohemian. He embraced Zionism prior to the First World War, at a time when it was a tiny movement among the elite, and assimilated, Jewish communities of central Europe. After stints in Paris and London, he ended up in Palestine in the mid-1920s hoping to live his Zionist beliefs. After a wave of violent riots broke out there in 1929, Kohn grew disillusioned. The same ‘spirit of extreme nationalism among [Austria-Hungary’s] peoples’ that had made the ‘building of a peaceful multiethnic state’ he saw manifesting itself in Palestine too. He opted to abandon Palestine for the US, where he settled in 1933.

Citizenship cannot force people to feel part of a civic nation

Unlike in the empire of his youth, or the Jewish state of his dreams, in the US Kohn thought he had found a country in which nationalism as a progressive and tolerant force had produced a truly just and liberal society. The contrast between this US reality and the exclusivist ambitions of German, Zionist or Czech nationalists deeply moved the former lawyer-cum-historian. Nationalism, he concluded, was not the problem, but only a certain ‘type’ of non-Western nationalism.

But nationalisms – both Western and non-Western – contain a complicated mixture of civic and ethnic factors, excluding some while offering others the chance for inclusion through assimilation. The state acts as the most powerful force for both. That’s why historians of nationalism like to say states make nations, not the other way around. Nationalism is, by definition, exclusivist insofar as it excludes those who do not think of themselves as a part of the nation. Citizenship cannot force people to feel part of a civic nation, just as citizenship does not stop some from trying to exclude others from their ethnic nation.

Today, it feels vaguely accurate to say that countries like the US, the UK or France base their national identity on the ‘civic’ nationhood of common citizenship. Poland, Hungary, Czechia or even Russia, on the other hand, appear wedded to a more ethnic idea of nationhood rooted in a common language, traditions and myths of origin. It would be an error to read the world of 2024 into the past, as much as it would be an error to read the world of 1944 into the past. An error to assume that today’s ethnic homogeneity in central and eastern European countries, as well as the inclusive nationhoods of Western democracies, are nothing but the consummation of eternal and essential truths rather than the result of contingent historical events. Unfortunately, this was precisely Kohn’s error.

In many ways, Kohn’s The Idea of Nationalism is really a book about a prototype of the Sonderweg (‘special path’) thesis, seeking to explain where German history had ‘gone wrong’ to such an extent that it led to Nazism. Why it did not follow the supposedly inclusive path of other Western countries like France, UK and the US but instead went down a fascist path that culminated in the catastrophe of the Second World War and the Holocaust.

Yet the US of the 1930s that Kohn was so enamoured with was a country whose extremely restrictive immigration policies sought to retain ‘Anglo-Saxon’ ethnic dominance, to which end much of the country mandated racial segregation until the 1960s. With few exceptions, over the past three centuries, the building of all modern nation-states required one ethnic group dominating and assimilating others.

Looking for the ‘roots’ of central and eastern Europe’s lagging behind the West in modernisation, and also at the horror of Nazism, led Kohn to make anachronistic claims about the long-term ethnic continuity and nature of their nations. Civic and ethnic nationalisms were never two distinct courses of historical development taken by different nations, but in fact two different aspects of the development of almost all modern nation-states. The tension between them unfolded across the 19th and 20th centuries as nationalism spread across Europe and the world.

 

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The four kinds of lies in politics:

1) The happy-go-lucky people (for example "generalized Navier-Stokes equation ? bliah-h-h, that's dead easy")
2) Fools who believe Trump/Mitsotakis propaganda.
3) People who believe the Trump/Mitsotakis propaganda but are not fools.
4) Out of deliberately malicious intent.

A smallish percentage 3-4% will attempt to tell you the truth but you won't believe.


 

Edited by cosmicway
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In Late Push To Help Trump, Nebraska GOP Might Take An Electoral Vote Away From Kamala Harris

Trump's allies want the state to move to a winner-take-all system for its Electoral College votes to make it harder for Harris to win.

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/nebraska-electoral-votes-kamala-harris_n_66eda868e4b016b76ff7a149

With eight weeks to go until Election Day, Nebraska Republicans are considering passing a law to change how the state distributes its electoral votes in a bid to deny Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris any vote from the state. Nebraska is one of two states, along with Maine, that does not allocate all of its electoral votes to the overall winner of the state. Instead, it provides two electoral votes for the statewide winner and then one vote for each of its three congressional districts.

The state’s 2nd Congressional District, centered on Omaha and its suburbs, has swung toward Democrats since former President Donald Trump was elected in 2016. Trump only narrowly won the district after GOP nominee Mitt Romney won it comfortably in 2012. In 2020, President Joe Biden won the district and its one electoral vote by 6.5%. The most recent polling of the district shows Harris with a similar lead to Biden’s 2020 margin.

The push to change Nebraska’s electoral vote allocation is being led by GOP Gov. Jim Pillen and Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.). Graham flew to the state to lobby state lawmakers at the governor’s mansion on Wednesday. Nebraska’s entire congressional delegation also endorsed the push in a letter on Wednesday to Pillen and John Arch, the Republican speaker of the state’s unicameral legislature.

U.S. Reps. Don Bacon (R-Neb.) and Adrian Smith (R-Neb.) said they believed the push for a winner-take-all result remained three or four votes shy in the Nebraska legislature as of Friday morning. Smith claimed a unified slate of electors would give Nebraska “more of a say” in the presidential election. “Right now, we have a diminished say with the way that the legislature has it in place,” Smith told HuffPost.

A winner-take-all result would give Nebraska Democrats less say in the presidential outcome. Bacon said splitting electors is a better way of representing the popular will, but only if all states do it. “I wish every state did it our way. I think it’s fair. To have only two states doing it causes problems,” Bacon told HuffPost, pointing to the fact that the Harris campaign has spent millions in the state while the Trump campaign has spent nothing.

If Nebraska changes how it allocates its electoral votes, it could have a significant impact on the outcome of the election. If Harris wins the three northern Blue Wall states of Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin and Nebraska’s 2nd Congressional District, then she wouldn’t need to win any other swing state to win the election. If, however, that one electoral vote from Nebraska instead goes to Trump, as it would in a winner-take-all allocation, Harris would need to win either Arizona, Georgia, Nevada or North Carolina to avoid a tied election.

428rd.png

The only other option to avoid a tied Electoral College vote in this scenario would be for lawmakers in Maine to change how they allocate electoral votes as well. Trump won one Electoral College vote from Maine’s 2nd Congressional District in 2016 and 2020. Polls show he is likely to win it again.

But it is likely that Maine would not be able to pass such legislation, even if its Democratic state legislative majority wanted to. In Maine, new legislation does not go into effect until 90 days after it is enacted. The election will take place in 45 days. State legislators can pass emergency legislation to go into effect immediately, but that requires a two-thirds majority in the legislature. State Republicans would likely block any such effort.

Edited by Vesper
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