This Friday, June 19, 7-10 pm on and around Woodstock Square support the Ride/Walk/Run to Leave a Light On and the community-based organizations serving those in need in McHenry County.
An Eclectic Journal of Opinion, History, Poetry and General Bloviating
This Friday, June 19, 7-10 pm on and around Woodstock Square support the Ride/Walk/Run to Leave a Light On and the community-based organizations serving those in need in McHenry County.
Today is Bloomsday, a literary festival celebrated around the world in honor of Irish novelist James Joyce and his masterwork Ulysses. It celebrates June 16, 1904, and the life and thoughts of Leopold Bloom, a Dublin Jew, his wife Molly and a host of other characters both fictional and real from 8 am that morning to the wee hours of the next day.
He set his novel on that day because it was the occasion of the first date between Joyce and his future mistress and wife, Nora Barnacle.
Joyce was born in Dublin in 1882, the eldest of ten children. He was educated at Jesuit schools before enrolling at University College on Stephen’s Green where he studied modern languages at a time when Irish nationalism was spurring a renaissance of national culture and literature.
Upon graduation he went to Paris as a medical student but spent most of his time drinking in cafés and writing. He was called home for the terminal illness of his mother in 1904 during which time he met Nora.
That August the first of his short stories was published in the Irish Homestead magazine. In October he left Ireland with Nora in tow for a job as an English teacher with a Berlitz school in Pola, Croatia. He would only return to Ireland for four short visits after that, and the last of those was in 1912. The couple lived as expatriates.
For ten years they lived in the city of Trieste where they immersed themselves in the local culture, spoke the local Italian dialect at home, and added two children, Georgio and Lucia, to the family. Joyce contributed articles in Italian to the local press and lectured on literature.
Joyce’s separation from Ireland crystallized his memories of it and fixed them perfectly in a set time in a way that might not have been possible had he been living there amid the inevitable changes.
In 1914 Joyce had a breakthrough year as a writer. American poet Ezra Pound assisted getting his first novel, the semi-autobiographical A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, published as a serial in Harriet Weaver’s London magazine, Egoist and his collection of short stories, begun in 1904, was published as The Dubliners. These two works, plus a short play, The Exiles, introduced him as an important writer.
World War I erupted the same year and disrupted Joyce’s life. Italian speaking Trieste was a southern outpost of the Austo-Hungarian Empire. Suddenly Joyce and his family were “enemy aliens” in hostile territory apt to be arrested. They escaped to Zurich, Switzerland where they waited out the war and lived in squalor and poverty, supported by handouts from friends and literary admirers.
Joyce was working on the manuscript for Ulysses in which tied the events of Homer’s Odysseus to Bloom’s story and he incorporated people he knew from Trieste and Zurich into characters in his story. Nora, particularly her distinct speech pattern and red hair, was the model for Molly Bloom.
After the war Pound induced the family to move to Paris, where they stayed for twenty years. Joyce became part of the international community of expatriate writers and intellectuals that included his some-time drinking companion, Ernest Hemmingway.
In 1921 the serial publication of Ulysses in the American magazine The Little Review was stopped when the government charged the publisher with circulating pornography through the mails. An English edition was scuttled before it could be issued when Harriet Weaver could not even find a printer willing to typeset the now notorious book. In 1922 the American expatriate owner of the Shakespeare & Co. bookshop in Paris, Sylvia Beach finally published the novel, which was hailed as a masterpiece and denounced as lewd, unintelligible trash. In 1932 an edition of the book was published by Joyce’s friend and associate Paul Léon, a Russian Jewish émigré living in Paris, under the imprint of Odyssey Press.
Despite a pirated 1929 edition, Ulysses remained banned in America until Bennett Cerf of Random House, a friend from Paris, arranged to have a French edition of the book seized by Customs authorities so he could challenge the earlier obscenity ruling. In 1934 U.S. District Judge John M. Woolsey ruled that the novel was not pornography and thus not obscene. The decision was upheld on appeal the next year. Random House published an authorized American edition the same year.
The case was the death knell of using postal regulations to censor literary works in the U.S. Two years later British censorship restrictions fell and the Bodley Head edition was published.
Each of these and subsequent editions have major differences in texts resulting from the lack of a single, unified original manuscript by Joyce, various textual editorial theories of the publishers and editors, and attempts to correct perceived “mistakes” in earlier editions.
While all this publication drama swirled around him, Joyce worked on the manuscript of his most complex work, the enigmatic Finnegan’s Wake published in 1939.
War once again disrupted his life as the Nazis closed in on Paris in 1940. Joyce and family fled to the South of France before being given refuge once again in Zurich. The faithful Paul Léon dared to return to Paris to rescue Joyce’s personal effects and manuscripts, which he put in hiding.
Joyce, always frail and half blind, died in Zurich on January 31, 1941 at the age of 59.
The first observation of Bloomsday was organized by the Irish writers Patrick Kavanagh and Flann O’Brien in 1954 on the 50th anniversary of the original date. A tour of the various sites in the book was never completed when the participants partook too deeply at pubs in route. Joyce would have approved. Since then, Bloomsday events, usually involving extended readings from the book, have been spread around the globe. Want to participate? You can start from the beginning:
STATELY, PLUMP BUCK MULLIGAN CAME FROM THE STAIRHEAD, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently-behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:
—Introibo ad altare Dei
.
Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called up coarsely:
—Come up, Kinch. Come up, you fearful jesuit.
Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding country and the awaking mountains. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and shaking his head. Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, equine in its length, and at the light untonsured hair, grained and hued like pale oak.
Buck Mulligan peeped an instant under the mirror and then covered the bowl smartly.
Ida B. Wells and the Black press including W.E.B. Du Bois’ The Crisis and the Chicago Daily Defender long exposed lynching as a brutal tool of oppression in the Jim Crow South. Later Billie Holiday sang about the Strange Fruit she witnessed dangling from lamp posts and bridges on her tours of the South. Lynchings were a terrible thing, civilized people agreed, but they were a Southern thing.
That’s why much of the nation was shocked to learn that on June 15, 1920 that three Black circus workers were dragged from a Duluth, Minnesota jail, beaten, and hung by a howling mob of as many as 1,500 citizens.
The busy Lake Superior port and principal city of the Iron Range, with a tiny Black population of its own, seemed like the last place in the country to expect such an outrage. It was a city of hard-working immigrants, most of them Finnish, Norwegian, Swedish, and German. Many of them, especially the Finns, were Socialists, Wobblies, and now Communists with roots in the labor and union movements. It was not that violence itself was unexpected, it was just that it was associated with the epic labor battles that had long raged across the Iron Range.
During the World War “decent citizens” were worked up into a frenzy of patriotism and came to view the immigrant radicals, most of them opposed to the war, as threats. The refusal of workers to abide by patriotic calls for labor peace and keep up the flow of vital taconite ore to the freighters and down to the steel mills of Gary and Chicago stoked more outrage.
In September of 1919 a young Finish immigrant, Olli Kinkkonen, thought by a mob to be a Draft dodger, was beaten, tarred, and feathered, and lynched in a downtown park. No one was ever charged or tried for that murder. So violence and lynching were not unknown in Duluth.
1919 was also a year when race riots erupted in Chicago and in other Midwestern cities where waves of Blacks from the South poured into to take war time jobs. Although Duluth, with only a handful of Blacks residents, escaped the rioting, it did not escape the national hysteria that followed.
So, the stage was set for the unexpected.
The circus was in town. On June 14 the John Robinson Circus, a mid-sized traveling show, rolled into town. As always, the arrival of the circus stirred local excitement. Two young people, Irene Tusken, 19, and James Sullivan, 18 were among the many who came down to the grounds where the show was being set up to watch the excitement. The Circus encouraged that—it was good for ticket sales. By design or otherwise Tusken and Sullivan, who arrived separately, got together on the grounds. They drifted around to the relative isolation of an area behind the big top. A gang of Black roustabouts was unloading the menagerie tent nearby.
What happened next is a matter of confusion and controversy. There may—or may not—have been some kind of confrontation between Sullivan and some of the roustabouts. Later that evening police received a call from Sullivan’s father claiming that his son had been attacked and robbed. The boy was questioned and told police that five or six of the workers attacked and robbed him and then raped Tusken as he was held at gun point. Tusken seemed frightened and confused, but generally went along with Sullivan’s story.
All 150 Black workers from the circus were rounded up and lined up against the railroad tracks. Sullivan was brought there to identify the alleged assailants. He identified six and said a few others might have been involved. The six were taken to jail.
Overnight rumors flew around town, including reports that Tusken had been murdered. In fact, the story of the rape fell apart almost immediately. A doctor examining her the next morning found no physical evidence of assault—bruising, scratches, abrasions—or of semen.
Local newspaper reports sensationalized the charges, rumors ran rampant. Through the day of the 15th a crowd grew around the jail until it became a mob of more than 1,000. An attack on the jail was expected. Authorities ordered deputies, guards, and police on the scene not to resist an attack with firearms.
When the mob moved on to the jail, police fought back as best they could with fire hoses and truncheons. But they were vastly outnumbered and after a vicious melee in which men on both sides were injured, they were overwhelmed. In fact, the resistance had only inflamed the mob who managed to seize three men—Elias Clayton, Elmer Jackson, and Isaac McGhie. They were beaten inside the jail and then hauled to the street where they were put on sham trial.
They were taken to the center of town, the corner of 1st Street and 2nd Avenue East where they were beaten again and hung from a lamp pole. The mob posed for pictures with the bodies which were published in the press and later sold as souvenir post cards.
The three other men suspected in the rape were still in the jail. A shifting mob kept up a presence outside, threatening a new attack. But it was not until the next morning that National Guard troops arrived to secure the jail and its prisoners who were moved to the St. Louis County Jail under heavy guard.
As the rape case against the victims evaporated over the next few days, the mob action drew national headlines. Most were condemning. Some Southern papers, however, openly gloated that Yankees were now awakening to the threat to White womanhood and were taking vigorous “corrective action.”
But next door in Superior, Wisconsin the local police chief pledged that, “We are going to run all idle Negroes out of Superior and they’re going to stay out.” How many were actually rousted and deported is not certain, but all of the Blacks employed by a carnival visiting the city were fired and told to leave the city.
A Grand Jury was empaneled on June 17, but despite loads of evidence including photographs and the open boasts of ringleaders, the jury had a hard time bringing indictments. After a struggle, 37 were indicted for participating in the lynching, 25 for rioting, and 12 for first degree murder. Several were indicted on multiple charges. In the end only three were convicted of rioting.
Of the Blacks suspected in the alleged rape and assault, the three survivors from the jail and four others were indicted for rape, but the charges against all but two were dropped. William Miller was acquitted, and Max Mason was convicted and sentenced to serve seven to thirty years in prison. Amid growing public outrage, Mason was released from prison after only four years on the proviso that he leave Minnesota and never return. Somehow, I suspect he was never tempted to violate that provision.
Like many places after such a shameful atrocity, Duluth tried hard to forget it ever happened. Willful amnesia it’s called. But nagging reminders kept popping up.
In 1965 Duluth born Bob Dylan, whose father was five years old and living two blocks from the lynching in 1920 opened his song Desolation Row with a reference to that awful night:
They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town.
In 2003, after a long public campaign, a stunning monument to the three lynching victims was unveiled—a plaza including three seven-foot-tall bronze statues across the street from the site of the lynching. The Clayton Jackson McGhie Memorial was designed and sculpted by Carla J. Stetson, in collaboration with Anthony Peyton-Porter, a California-based Black writer who had taken an interest in the case.
At the dedication Warren Read, the great-grandson of one of the most prominent leaders of the lynch mob told the crowd:
It was a long held family secret, and its deeply buried shame was brought to the surface and unraveled. We will never know the destinies and legacies these men would have chosen for themselves if they had been allowed to make that choice. But I know this: their existence, however brief and cruelly interrupted, is forever woven into the fabric of my own life. My son will continue to be raised in an environment of tolerance, understanding and humility, now with even more pertinence than before.
Read has since written The Lyncher in Me, a memoir of his family and of his own search for reconciliation with the decedents of Elmer Jackson.
Sunday promises to be a very busy day. Americans of all--you should pardon the expression--stripes will claim the national banner as their own in many often conflicting ways. Not only is it Flag Day, but it falls during Pride Month, the nation's 250th Birthday hoopla, and on the 80th birthday of the man who makes everything about himself. He is celebrating with a widely mocked UFC fight on the White House grounds under a soaring pavilion--an event which seems to be still unraveling hour by hour.
Naturally the folks behind the hugely successful No Kings Day protests are offering an alternative. A 90‑minute Rise Up, Sing Out concert at The Town Hall in New York City featuring Bette Midler, Patti Smith, Rufus Wainwright, Sasha Allen, Jane Fonda, and Joy Reid, co‑presented with the Committee for the First Amendment. The event will stream nationwide as local groups host of watch parties. Despite organizers requesting that previously announced local rallies and marches, Indivisible McHenry County is going ahead with its plans for a We the People Rally on Sunday, from 3:00 to 5:00 pm at Rt. 31 and McCullom Lake Road in McHenry.
It is also LGBTQ+ Pride Month and McHenry County will celebrate at the Woodstock Pride Parade and Festival on the Square from 11 am to 4 pm. That overlaps with the McHenry roadside rally. This year there has been organized "push back" from MAGA groups and provocateurs at many local Pride marches and events.
Flag Day might be lost in the shuffle if folks on all sides were not waving it and claiming it for their own.
We’ve been here before as an updated blog post.
In case you hadn’t noticed today is officially Flag Day, a demi-holiday easily overlooked. It is celebrated by displaying the American Flag. Veterans groups often organize solemn flag disposal ceremonies.
No other country on Earth makes quite the fetish of its flag as does the United States. The word idolatry comes to mind. At its worst it elevates the symbol—the Flag—over the substance—the democratic values espoused in the Declaration of Independence and protected by the Constitution. It is an absolute truism that those who wrap themselves most tightly in the Flag—and these days that is not just a figurative term—are the most disingenuous and dangerous. Witness any performance by the Resident of the White House and the seditious mobs that laid siege to the Capitol.
Donald Trump and one of his regular Flag fondling.
On the other hand—especially those who served in the Armed Forces or who were raised in a veteran’s household—have been taught to respect the Flag and “the nation for which it stands.” I still hang the Flag on my house on patriotic holidays and always place my hat over my heart when it passes by in a parade. It’s just the way I was raised.
Part of the national devotion to the Flag comes from an odd combination of cultural coincidence and calculated political strategy. Our National Anthem, not officially adopted until 1931 but widely used on patriotic occasions for more than a century prior, may be the only national song about a flag.
The Grand Army of the Republic promoted the Flag as a symbol of the Union and a thumb-in-the-eye to former Rebels.
Not widely displayed except at military posts, on Navy ships, and on some Federal buildings prior to the Civil War, the Grand Army of the Republic heavily promoted its use after the war in a spirit of triumphalism of the Union over the vanquished South. For that reason, display of the national flag was highly unpopular in the South until World War I.
The flag and the Pledge of Allegiance were used to Americanize immigrants, especially children as in this Jacob Riis photo.
The Pledge of Allegiance was penned by Francis Bellamy, a Baptist minister and socialist, for use during celebration the 400th anniversary of the supposed discovery of the New World by Christopher Columbus. Quickly adopted by schools as part of the daily ritual of beginning classes, the Pledge does not swear allegiance to the government—an inclusive tip-of-the-hat to resentful former Rebels—or even to the Constitution, but to a symbol, the Flag.
By the turn of the 20th Century the Flag was being used as a symbol of assimilation for the waves of emigrants swamping our shores—and as a test of their loyalty. The most popular composers of the era—the March King John Philip Sousa and Broadway’s George M. Cohan made literal flag waving as popular as moon-June-spoon ballads.
During World War I, the Woodrow Wilson administration used flag imagery as part of their very sophisticated domestic propaganda operation designed to rouse support of the war effort and raise Liberty Loans. After the war, the Flag was used to rally support for suppression of the labor movement, radicalism, Socialism, and Communism said to represent sinister alien ideologies.
The flag has often been appropriated to give patriotic cover to hate groups. Witness this 1925 Ku Klux Klan march in Washington. But it was also carried by militant unionists at the Lawrence Textile Strike and Chicago Memorial Day Massacre and also by Civil Rights Movement marchers.
Wilson proclaimed the first official Flag Day in 1916. In 1949, with the country in the grips of yet another Red Scare, Congress made it an official Federal Holiday, although withholding the paid days off for Federal employees standard for other holidays.
June 14 is Flag Day because on this date in 1777 the Continental Congress passed the Flag Act which officially described a new national banner:
Resolved: That the flag of the United States be made of thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new Constellation.
Betsy Ross almost certainly did not sew the first flag, Washington never viewed it, and the 13 stars in a circle banner may not have never been actually used during the Revolution. None of that stopped myth makers.
The new official flag—not, by the way, likely first sewn by Philadelphia seamstress Betsy Ross—was based on the unofficial Grand Union flag used by General George Washington during the Siege of Boston. That flag had the same thirteen alternating red and white stripes but had the English Union Jack in its canton. Of course, that was before Independence was declared in July of 1776. It wouldn’t do to keep the reference to the British flag.
The Act was vague—it did not describe the arrangement of the stars in the field, how the stars should be shaped, or even how large the field should be. Local flag makers working from the sketchy description produced many variations with five, six, and even twelve-pointed stars; with stars of different sizes; and many variations of arrangement. Also, the shade of blue used for the field depended largely on what blue cloth the maker might have at hand.
The familiar thirteen stars in a circle was not only not standard, but some historians also doubt if it was used at all during the Revolutionary War. Others believe that it might have been the flag used at the British surrender at Yorktown.
After Vermont and Kentucky were added to the Union two additional stars and two stripes were added. That was the Star Spangled Banner observed still flying over Ft. McHenry in Baltimore harbor after an all-night British naval bombardment in 1815. It became apparent that with more new states, adding stripes would quickly become clumsy. In 1818, after five more states were added, Congress fixed the number of stripes at thirteen with an added star for each new state.
But it still did not specifically designate an arrangement for the stars. During the Civil War flags with all manner of arrangements were used. It was not until the creation of the 48 star flag in 1912 that a specific arrangement was established. The current 50 star flag has been in use since July 4, 1960 after the admission of Hawaii to the Union. This year will mark the 66th anniversary of that flag, which has been in service longer than any previous national banner.
Today, the flag is waved by forces on both sides of the great social and political divide even as the nation for which it stood after the perilous on the verge of a second civil war in January 2021. But many on the left are still chagrined and conflicted about the flag. Does it represent the on-going lethal threat to which the Black Lives Matter Movement responded? The ongoing expressions of White supremacy and the continued attacks on basic voting rights? The attempts to degrade women and attack their bodily autonomy? The treatment of immigrants and refugees? The continuing militarism and low-grade but bloody war around the world? Or can the flag be honored as a yet unfulfilled promise?
The upside-down flag is a traditional sign of distress and has been adopted by Trumpistas, election deniers, and some alt-right militia type groups much to the dismay of many veterans. Even a Supreme Court Justice--guess who--was caught flying it at both his Washington area home and a Rhode Island summer retreat.
Both sides of the current American social chasm claim to love their country but have seemingly irreconcilable notions about what America is, what it means, and what it should become.
As for me, I will choose hope. I’ve got my flag out today on the belief that it stands for “Liberty and Justice for All.” What does your flag mean?
Daniel Ellsberg speaks to the press outside his trial in Boston. Co-defendant Anthony Russo and his wife Katherine, left, and Ellsberg's wife Patricia look on.
Note—This post appeared on this date in 2019 exactly like this. The song remains the same, only much worse.
Some of today’s most talked about news items—leaks, secrets, national security, a war on the media, and an embattled, deeply paranoid President—are the same ingredients in a variant recipe as for the events that unfolded 48 years ago in the during the reign of Richard M. Nixon. On June 13, 1971 The New York Times began publishing The Pentagon Papers, a top-secret history of the military and political involvement of the highest echelons of the U. S. Government in the Vietnam War.
The study was commissioned by Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara and was completed in 1968. The document was obtained by Daniel Ellsberg, a former military analyst for the RAND Corporation think tank who was involved in the original study. He hoped to expose how the leaders of the government in successive administrations systematically lied to the American people about both their intentions in Vietnam and about the actual conduct of the war.
Among the many disclosures that shocked the nation was that Lyndon Johnson made the decision to widen U.S. involvement with the introduction of combat units on the ground well before a heralded “consultation” with his senior advisors. Johnson was also shown to be committed to bombing North Vietnam even as he was running for election in 1964 on a promise of seeking “no wider war.” The documents also revealed the long secret war in Cambodia.
The Nixon Administration reacted with a combination of horror and fury. Attorney General John Mitchell immediately sought a restraining order against the Times to prevent them from continuing publication citing the 1917 Espionage Act which made it a crime to be in possession of classified documents illegally obtained “…which information the possessor has reason to believe could be used to the injury of the United States or to the advantage of any foreign nation, willfully communicates, delivers, transmits or causes to be communicated.”
This New York Times headline grabbed the immediate attention of the President and administration officials who launched an all-out offensive against Ellsberg, the Times and anyone and everyone remotely involved.
The Times was forced to suspend publication while the case was expedited through the Federal Courts. A few days later another restraining order was issued against the Washington Post, which had also been provided the text by Ellsberg and had begun running its own series.
As the case was being reviewed, Senator Mike Gravel, Democrat of Alaska entered 1400 pages of the Pentagon Papers into the Congressional Record, which could not be restrained by the courts and put the material in a public form which could be quoted without fear of prosecution.
The next day, on June 30 a deeply divided court ruled 6–3 that the injunctions were unconstitutional prior restraint and the government failed to meet the heavy burden of proof required. Each of the nine justices wrote decisions agreeing or dissenting opinions on various parts of the ruling.
It was less than the clear-cut victory for freedom of the press than the Times and Post hoped for, but it did affirm a broad interpretation of the First Amendment and allowed them to resume publication of the papers.
Meanwhile the Justice Department warned/threatened publishing houses against issuing the papers as a book. Fearful, not one major commercial publisher would touch it.
UUA President Robert West and Alaska Senator Mike Gravel at a press conference announcing the Beacon Press edition of the Pentagon Papers. Gravel, as a U.S. Senator, was legally untouchable but paid a heavy political price. West and the UUA endured years of investigations, constant harassment, and threat of criminal charges and the revocation of the UAA's tax exempt status and the status of all member congregations. Even individual donors to the UU were fearful of being targeted when the Fed sought financial records.
Gravel, a Unitarian Universalist, suggested that Beacon Press, publishing arm of the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) take it up. UUA President Robert West agreed setting off two and a half years of harassment, intimidation, and court action against the publisher and the UUA by the government. Despite threats and even a personal phone call from Nixon, the company rushed to put out the full Mike Gravel Edition of the Pentagon Papers in October.
After publication the Justice department subpoenaed all of the UUA bank records for four and a half months, including checks from individual members. That action was stopped on appeal, then started again, and finally ended, but the government tied the UUA up in court for two and a half years and cost hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees.
Both West and Beacon Press Director Gobin Stair were publicly named as likely to be indicted on espionage or even treason charges and both were called to testify in the criminal trial of Ellsberg and his co-defendant Anthony Russo, an associate who helped with the copying.
At various times government agents hinted that the UUA and each member congregation might lose non-profit tax-exempt status and that UUA might even be placed on the notorious Attorney General’s List of Subversive Organizations.
Ellsberg and Russo were charged under the Espionage Act and with a raft of other charges including theft and conspiracy, carrying a total maximum sentence of 115 years. The trial finally got underway in January of 1973 in the Boston courtroom of U.S. District Judge William Matthew Byrne, Jr.
Top Nixon aide and henchman John Ehrlichman created the Plumbers Unit whose first caper under spook G.Gordon Libby was a break in at Daniel Ellsberg's psychiatrist office. That was the rap that sent Ehrlichman up the river.
During the trial a number of “gross improprieties” by the government were revealed. Not the least of which was the August 1971 break-in of the office of Dr. Lewis Fielding, a psychiatrist who treated Ellsberg. This operation was conducted by G. Gordon Liddy, H. Howard Hunt and three Cubans at the direction of Nixon aide John Ehrlichman—the first operation of the infamous Plumber’s Unit that would soon be swept up in Watergate.
It was also revealed that Judge Byrne personally met twice with Ehrlichman, who offered him directorship of the FBI. Although Byrne said he refused to consider the offer while the Ellsberg case was pending, even agreeing to meet with Ehrlichman during the case raised red flags.
The government was accused of illegally obtaining evidence and of monitoring the defense team. When the government tried to claim that it lost wiretap records on Ellsberg the exasperated Judge Byrne declared a mistrial and said “The totality of the circumstances of this case which I have only briefly sketched offend a sense of justice. The bizarre events have incurably infected the prosecution of this case.”
Nixon’s paranoia, which ultimately resulted in his resignation in disgrace over the Watergate scandal, can be traced to this case. Aides Ehrlichman, H. R. Halderman, Richard Kleindienst, and John Dean were forced to resign when the Fielding burglary was disclosed in the course of the trial. Egil Krogh and Charles Colson were convicted and sent to prison for their roles in supervising the break in.
So what about today? Well unfortunately intimidation of the press has become routine—and often successful. Aides to President Donald Trump have repeatedly been caught improperly trying to interfere with the Mueller probe and Congressional investigations in a range of cases including improper communications with Russian officials and possible tampering with the 2016 Presidential Election. The Cheeto in Charge himself was caught more or less red handed trying to influence FBI Chief James Comey before firing him. He has also threatened the press and individual journalists in his morning toilet seat Tweets and was shown to be a bald-faced liar on more occasions than can be counted.
The two more contemporary whistle blowers have already been imprisoned, the fate Ellsberg and his press collaborators avoided all those years ago.
Chelsea Manning, formally known as Bradly Manning, was an active-duty soldier with a security clearance who passed thousands of pages of classified documents to Julian Assange of WikiLeaks. She pled guilty to ten charges and was later convicted of 17 others. Sentenced to 35 years at the maximum-security U.S. Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Leavenworth, President Barack Obama commuted her sentence to basically time served since her arrest.
Widely viewed as a classic whistle blower, Manning’s reputation has suffered as Assange sat for year in the London Ecuadorian Embassy and was revealed to be either a willing or unwitting tool of the Russians in meddling in the 2016 election. This year she was returned to prison for refusing to respect a subpoena to testify before a Virginia Federal Grand Jury investigating Assange and WikiLeaks. She was held for two months until the expiration of the Grand Jury term. Almost immediately after her release a new Grand Jury was impaneled in the same case. Attorney General William Barr, who is ironically himself defying a subpoena, ordered her re-arrested. She was returned to jail for the 18-month term of the grand jury. In addition, a fine was imposed of $500 for each day she spends in jail over 30 days and $1,000 for each day she spends in jail over 60 days. Even upon the expiration of this Grand Jury, another could be impaneled.
Reality Winner a young woman contractor with a name out of a Dickens novel was charged and unlike Ellsberg was convicted, and imprisoned for leaking documents to the press about Russian hacking of the election. Despite a spate or articles at the time, she has already been virtually forgotten.
Meanwhile readers of this blog, which has undoubtedly triggered whatever algorithms are used by NSA super sophisticated snooping programs to flag possible dangerous threats, and those who click on links here from Facebook have to look over their shoulders and assume that Big Brother really is watching.