The mayoral candidates were asked during the final Democratic debate whether they would prioritize integrating city public schools or improving them. But many experts would say that’s a false choice. In fact, research has shown that desegregation is a school improvement plan. Decades of attempts to improve city schools at scale without integration have had mixed results, at best.Most of the candidates took issue with the premise of the question, and said that integration and school improvement can and should complement each other. Even some of the candidates who have not promised major changes on integration, including Kathryn Garcia and Andrew Yang, said Wednesday that they would pursue some desegregation policies to boost city schools.Ms. Garcia spoke about her plan to boost arts and early literacy in public schools, and Mr. Yang returned to a favorite topic of his: the failures of remote learning during the pandemic.Eric Adams spoke about his own experience attending segregated schools as a child in New York City, and said students needed to be exposed to more diverse environments.Maya Wiley, who has spent the last few years pushing for school desegregation policies, has been at times muted on this highly contentious issue during the campaign. Still, she reiterated her plan to eliminate admissions rules she considers discriminatory, which sets her apart from many of her competitors. More

Mr. Adams, the Brooklyn borough president, has called money the “enemy of politics.” But his fund-raising has repeatedly pushed the boundaries of campaign-finance and ethics laws.Eric Adams, the Brooklyn borough president, had begun making the rounds for a nascent mayoral campaign when he arrived at a small gathering in spring 2018.The real estate developer David Schwartz had invited associates to meet Mr. Adams — and cut him a check — at his company’s Manhattan offices. Mr. Adams delivered a short stump speech, talking about his conversion to a plant-based diet and how as mayor he would ensure that schoolchildren no longer ate pizza that resembled cardboard, according to people who were there. He raised $20,000 that day, records show.Mr. Schwartz’s company, Slate Property Group, had recently sought city permission to erect a tower in Downtown Brooklyn nearly twice as tall as zoning allowed. Six months after the fund-raiser, Mr. Adams endorsed Slate’s zoning change, despite objections from the local community board.Mr. Adams, 60, a former police officer who is among the leading candidates in the June Democratic primary for mayor, has termed money the “enemy of politics” and called for complete public financing of campaigns. Yet his dealings with Mr. Schwartz offer but one example of how, across his 15 years in elected office, he has used government power to benefit donors and advance his political ambitions.Mr. Adams’s relationships with his donors, as a state senator and then as borough president, have at times drawn attention and prompted investigations. His ties to developers have increasingly come under fire by critics of the gentrification that is sweeping across Brooklyn and much of the city. He has never been formally accused of wrongdoing. But a review by The New York Times of campaign filings, nonprofit filings, lobbying reports and other records shows that, to a greater degree than is publicly known, he has continued to push the boundaries of campaign-finance and ethics laws.Since taking office as borough president in 2014, Mr. Adams has cut a wide swath in raising money for his campaign. He has amassed the largest war chest of any of the mayoral candidates, with about $7.9 million on hand, according to the city’s Campaign Finance Board. More than a third of the money he has raised from private sources has come from people associated with the real estate industry.At the same time, he has promoted Brooklyn and himself through a nonprofit group, One Brooklyn Fund Inc., that has permitted donors to support him without the spending limits city law imposes on political campaigns.Mr. Adams has taken money from developers who, like Mr. Schwartz, have lobbied him or won his recommendation for crucial zoning changes. In several cases, he appears to have violated city campaign-finance law by failing to report that developers and others have raised money for him. That may have allowed him to obtain public matching funds to which he was not entitled.He has solicited and received donations from people and entities that sought, and in some cases were awarded, grants from his office’s annual $59 million capital fund. And he has wielded the megaphone of his office for the causes, people and groups he favors, including his contributors.Mr. Adams has also forged close ties with lobbyists who have registered to influence him for their clients. Two of the lobbyists sit on his nonprofit’s board, and a third was recently hired as a campaign consultant.Mr. Adams declined to be interviewed but issued a statement about his fund-raising record.“Black candidates for office are often held to a higher, unfair standard — especially those from lower-income backgrounds such as myself,” he said.“No campaign of mine has ever been charged with a serious fund-raising violation, and no contribution has ever affected my decision-making as a public official — yet I am still being cross-examined for accusations made and answered more than a decade ago. I hope that by becoming mayor I can change minds and create one equal standard for all.”Seeking the Democratic nomination for mayor, Mr. Adams handed out fliers last month in Corona, Queens.James Estrin/The New York TimesIn many ways, Mr. Adams’s mix of money and politics reflects a career spent disregarding established norms in favor of nurturing constituencies that have helped him rise through New York’s civic life. He has gone from gadfly, an outspoken advocate for Black police officers, to political insider in Albany and Brooklyn, from Democrat to Republican and back again. As borough president, he has embraced real estate developers while appealing to public-housing residents and railing against gentrification.Politics is, of course, inherently transactional, and generations of elected officials have raised money from people with interests before their government. That nexus has traditionally been challenging ground for regulators and prosecutors to police.That was the case in 2017, when federal prosecutors in the Southern District of New York examined episodes in which Mayor Bill de Blasio or his surrogates sought donations from people seeking favors from the city, and then made inquiries to city agencies on their behalf. In deciding not to bring charges, the acting United States attorney, Joon H. Kim, cited “the particular difficulty in proving criminal intent in corruption schemes where there is no evidence of personal profit.” Mr. de Blasio received a warning letter about those activities from the city’s Conflicts of Interest Board.Mr. de Blasio, like Mr. Adams, used a nonprofit to raise money. Amid the controversy, he shut it down.Richard Briffault, a former chairman of the Conflicts of Interest Board, said that while self-enrichment was the primary focus of local ethics laws, soliciting contributions for a campaign or nonprofit from people who stand to benefit from one’s actions would also present ethical issues.“If somebody is using their public position in order to sway donations, that would certainly be, if not officially barred, clearly unethical,” said Mr. Briffault, who now teaches election law and government ethics at Columbia Law School.Conflicts of interest can also be more nuanced. Elected officials, he said, may feel an unconscious bias: “It’s reciprocity in some fundamental sense. We want to be nice to people who have been nice to us.”A Prodigious Fund-RaiserMr. Adams speaking about the Police Department in front of City Hall in 1998. He was on the force for more than two decades.  Chester Higgins Jr./The New York TimesMr. Adams rose to prominence in the 1990s as an outspoken critic of the city’s Police Department from within the ranks, calling out what he saw as institutional racism and arguing for criminal justice reform. He eventually became president of the Grand Council of Guardians, an advocacy group for Black officers, and co-founded a second group, 100 Blacks in Law Enforcement Who Care. Through that activism, he has said, he gained experience raising money for causes across New York.Mr. Adams further honed that skill when, after 22 years on the police force, he won election to the State Senate in 2005. After Democrats claimed the Senate majority, he was named chairman of the plum Racing, Gaming and Wagering Committee. According to a 2010 analysis by Bennett Liebman, then the executive director of Albany Law School’s Government Law Center, Mr. Adams raised nearly $74,000 that year from racing and gaming interests.“Has there ever been as active a committee chair receiving political contributions as Senator Eric Adams?” Mr. Liebman wrote.Mr. Adams soon became embroiled in a scandal after his committee helped choose a purveyor of video-lottery machines at Aqueduct Racetrack. The state inspector general found that he and other Senate Democrats had fraternized with lobbyists and accepted significant campaign contributions from people affiliated with the contenders.Mr. Adams disavowed responsibility.“This process — it disturbed me,” he told investigators, according to an interview transcript, adding that “it was created beyond my arrival.”Mr. Adams at the State Senate in 2009. He would soon be entangled in a scandal involving lobbyists and Aqueduct Racetrack.Mike Groll/Associated PressBut documents from the investigation, never previously disclosed, show that during the bidding process, several contenders were invited to a Sept. 3, 2009, birthday fund-raiser for Mr. Adams at the Grand Havana Room, a Midtown Manhattan cigar bar and haunt of the politically powerful.“Team, we will absolutely need to be present at this event for Senator Adams,” Andrew Frank, a consultant to the Aqueduct Entertainment Group, wrote in an email to its principals, according to a transcript of his interview with investigators. The company’s lobbyists had recommended going, Mr. Frank recalled in the interview.With the support of Senate leaders including Mr. Adams, Gov. David A. Paterson selected Aqueduct Entertainment Group for the contract. Among other issues, the inspector general’s report faulted Mr. Adams and other senators for attending a celebratory dinner at the home of a company lobbyist before the contract was finalized. The senators, the inspector general said, had used “exceedingly poor judgment.”Ultimately, state officials rescinded the contract award and restarted the process. Federal prosecutors investigated but did not bring charges.For Mr. Adams, though, the episode was both a warning and a prologue.Promoting His Borough, and HimselfIn 2014, Mr. Adams became Brooklyn borough president. An inquiry opened that year into his solicitation of funding.James Estrin/The New York TimesOn the next-to-last day of February 2014, leaders of Brooklyn businesses, schools and hospitals filtered into Borough Hall for a discussion of how they might help “enhance the lives of Brooklynites.” They were handed lists of ready-planned events — a turkey drive, concerts, holiday celebrations — along with fliers featuring corporate logos to show how they would be recognized for their sponsorship.“I was a little puzzled about what was going on,” said Lyn Hill, who attended as a representative of New York Methodist Hospital in Park Slope.Their host was Mr. Adams, newly inaugurated to a job, borough president, with limited power — making detailed recommendations, but not deciding, on zoning changes, awarding capital grants and appointing community board members — but abundant opportunity for civic boosterism.The cheerleading art had been perfected by Mr. Adams’s predecessor, Marty Markowitz, “Mr. Brooklyn,” who had elevated the borough’s profile, and his own, with an array of events. To pay for them, he had created a network of nonprofit groups that raised millions of dollars, much of it from donors with business before the city.Mr. Adams would follow in his footsteps. To enlist supporters for his new nonprofit, One Brooklyn, he had organized the Borough Hall event, with an invitation list based in part on the donor rolls for Mr. Markowitz’s nonprofits, records show.One Brooklyn had yet to register with the state, and after the event drew media attention, the city’s Department of Investigation opened an inquiry into whether it had violated conflict-of-interest laws. In an August 2014 memo, the inspector general, Andrew Sein, concluded that Mr. Adams and his nonprofit appeared to have improperly solicited funding from groups that either had or would soon have matters pending before his office.At least three entities that sent representatives were seeking capital grants from Mr. Adams’s office at around the time of the event, investigators found. There is no indication that those organizations ultimately donated.Mr. Adams’s office emphasized to investigators that the slip-ups had occurred early in his administration and promised to comply with the law going forward. The Department of Investigation normally refers such cases to the Conflict of Interest Board to determine penalties. Neither agency would comment, but no enforcement action was taken.Mr. Adams is the only one of the city’s current borough presidents with such a nonprofit, which under city law is permitted to raise private money to augment limited government funding. The group has given out grants and staged dozens of events for Mr. Adams to host, to celebrate holidays, to honor constituent groups, and more. At a candidate forum last week, Mr. Adams said he was proud of that work and had hired a compliance officer to ensure rules were followed.“I did not go from being a person that enforced the law to become one that breaks the law,” he said.But One Brooklyn has also proven to be an effective vehicle for him in circumventing the city’s campaign-finance laws. In all, it has reported taking in at least $2.2 million.Under the campaign-finance laws, citywide candidates cannot accept corporate donations and may take no more than $400 per election cycle from people doing business with the city. Nonprofits like One Brooklyn, however, can accept unlimited contributions, provided they adhere to certain strictures.To be eligible to accept unlimited contributions, One Brooklyn must certify that it spends no more than 10 percent of its funding on communications for Mr. Adams. The intent is to blunt a nonprofit’s political messaging power.But Mr. Adams found a workaround — using advertising dollars and taxpayer resources to publicize One Brooklyn’s events and himself.A newsletter, also called One Brooklyn, displayed Mr. Adams’s picture on some pages six times and featured events staged by the nonprofit and the borough president’s office. The newsletter, last published before the coronavirus pandemic, was funded by advertisers, some of whom are also Mr. Adams’s donors.The January 2018 issue, for instance, depicted the borough president and his mother on the cover with the headline “How I Got Mom Off Insulin in 30 Days.” Broadway Stages, a film-production company that deals with the city government on permitting and real estate issues, bought a full-page ad congratulating Mr. Adams “for your dedication and commitment to Brooklyn.” The company has given $25,000 to One Brooklyn, and its employees have contributed to Mr. Adams’s campaign fund. A company spokesman, Juda Engelmayer, said the owners had long been friends with Mr. Adams and supported many community causes.A newsletter, paid for by advertisers, that Mr. Adams has used to promote himself and events hosted by his nonprofit.Mr. Adams has also used his government website to promote One Brooklyn’s events and his nonprofit’s donors.The city’s conflict-of-interest rules prohibit public servants from soliciting or accepting donations from anyone with a “particular matter” pending before them. On its website, One Brooklyn says the borough president’s office does not accept such donations. But the nonprofit appears to have done so.Over four years beginning in 2015, Green-Wood Cemetery, a national historic landmark, was awarded three grants from the borough president’s capital fund, totaling $907,000, for an education center and a new trolley and caboose. The cemetery was twice invited to One Brooklyn’s annual gala and donated $5,000 each time. The first gift, in 2017, was accepted; the second was returned because of a possible conflict, Green-Wood’s president, Richard J. Moylan, said by email. Green-Wood’s final grant — for $500,000, to finish the education center — was awarded in 2019, with Mr. Adams announcing the gift with a gigantic mock check.“Green-Wood is proud of our role as a good corporate citizen,” Mr. Moylan said.One Brooklyn has allowed campaign donors to support Mr. Adams’s political ambitions far more generously than they can under the city’s campaign-finance law.Jed Walentas, who runs the development firm Two Trees Management, is limited to $400 in campaign contributions per election cycle, because he is on the list of people doing business with the city. But Mr. Walentas’s family foundation has given One Brooklyn $50,000, records show. (Mr. Adams’s campaign has also received at least $24,000 from other donors solicited by or connected to Mr. Walentas.)Jed Walentas is a property developer with business before the city. His family foundation has given Mr. Adams’s nonprofit $50,000.Katherine Marks for The New York TimesFor his part, Mr. Adams championed a $2.7 billion streetcar plan that Mr. Walentas has promoted through a group he founded, Friends of Brooklyn Queens Connector Inc. The streetcar, Mr. Adams tweeted in 2018, “has real potential to be one of those solutions for our disconnected waterfront.” The project stalled, and Mr. Adams has recently distanced himself from it in the glare of the mayoral race.The borough president is also in line to issue an opinion on a rezoning request for Two Trees’ next big project, River Ring, a pair of apartment and commercial towers with a waterfront park in Williamsburg. In city filings, Kenneth Fisher, a lobbyist for Two Trees, has identified the borough president as a potential lobbying target.Mr. Adams, in a recent interview, said he was already “extremely impressed” with the way the Two Trees plan had taken account of rising sea levels. “This is how we need to start thinking,” he added. Mr. Walentas declined to comment.The lines between Mr. Adams’s nonprofit and his campaign can sometimes blur.Edolphus Towns, a former congressman and one of two lobbyists on One Brooklyn’s board, has bundled about $7,000 in campaign contributions for Mr. Adams, records show.Mr. Towns has also registered to lobby Mr. Adams on behalf of Arker Diversified Companies, an affordable-housing developer that worked on the Fountains, a project in East New York that was supported by the borough president, according to city lobbying filings. A political action committee created by Arker executives gave Mr. Adams’s campaigns $6,350 between 2013 and 2016. They declined to comment.Mr. Towns said he had not lobbied Mr. Adams and did not recall registering to do so. He said they had become friends when Mr. Adams, then in the Police Department, worked with Mr. Towns, then a congressman, on criminal justice issues. “Eric was very helpful in getting rid of toy guns that look like real guns,” Mr. Towns said.‘What Oil Is to Texas’Mr. Adams leaving a campaign event last week in Manhattan.Dave Sanders for The New York TimesThe borough president’s relationship to the real estate industry has become something of a campaign issue, and several other candidates have pledged to refuse developers’ contributions.Mr. Adams, who owns the small rental building where he lives, in Bedford-Stuyvesant, dismisses that suggestion, arguing that all landlords should not be tarred for the sins of the bad ones. And while he has come out in favor of a number of his donors’ projects, and of development in general, he has decried the gentrification that has displaced longtime residents and businesses.“Go back to Iowa,” he said in remarks directed at newcomers during a January 2020 event in Harlem. After the comments drew criticism, Mr. Adams tried to clarify: He said he welcomed people from elsewhere but wanted them to invest in their new neighborhoods.In interviews, several figures in the real estate industry said contributions to Mr. Adams’s campaign were not simply transactional but reflective of his overall support..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-w739ur{margin:0 auto 5px;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-w739ur{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-w739ur{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-w739ur{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1dg6kl4{margin-top:5px;margin-bottom:15px;}#masthead-bar-one{display:none;}#masthead-bar-one{display:none;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-1rh1sk1{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-1rh1sk1 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-1rh1sk1 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1rh1sk1 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#ccd9e3;text-decoration-color:#ccd9e3;}.css-1rh1sk1 a:visited{color:#333;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#ccc;text-decoration-color:#ccc;}.css-1rh1sk1 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}Whatever the precise dynamic, Mr. Adams had amassed at least $937,000 from developers, property managers, architects, contractors and others as of his campaign filing in March. That represented more than a third of his total private contributions, excluding public matching funds, an analysis shows, and included money from developers of luxury buildings in gentrifying neighborhoods.(In order to qualify for public matching funds under a new city program, Mr. Adams’s campaign voluntarily returned more than $300,000 of that real estate industry money — including portions of several donations referenced in this article — because it exceeded the program’s contribution limits.)Among the early backers of Mr. Adams’s mayoral bid was Mr. Schwartz, the Slate group co-founder.On May 25, 2018, a Slate affiliate filed a city land-use application to build a 40-story tower on a wedge-shaped plot in Downtown Brooklyn zoned for roughly 24 stories. Mr. Adams would have to issue an advisory opinion on the proposed zoning change.Three weeks after the filing, on the evening of June 13, Mr. Schwartz hosted the fund-raiser for Mr. Adams at his East 29th Street offices. According to people who attended, Mr. Schwartz organized the event and personally invited guests.Mr. Schwartz, who was on the city’s doing-business list, distanced himself and Slate from the event. He did not personally contribute; he had last given Mr. Adams’s campaign $320 in 2015. And he sent the invitation in the name of a management company that operates in the same offices as Slate. The invitation — in blue, yellow and white, with an “Eric Adams 2021” logo — suggested contributions ranging from $300 for a “friend” to $1,000 for a “sponsor.”Several of Mr. Schwartz’s vendors donated: a demolition contractor gave $2,000, a real estate lawyer $2,500 and an appliance vendor $5,000.Under city campaign-finance law, amounts greater than $500 spent by third parties on fund-raising events and the value of event spaces are supposed to be reported as in-kind contributions, and their organizers, in most cases, must be listed as intermediaries. But Mr. Adams’s disclosures did not list Mr. Schwartz as an in-kind contributor; nor did he report paying for the event himself. What’s more, he did not report Mr. Schwartz as an intermediary, or “bundler,” of others’ donations. Had Mr. Adams done so, the donations Mr. Schwartz solicited would not have been eligible for public matching funds, since he was on the doing-business list.A lawyer for Slate, David Grandeau, said in a statement that “the value of hosting the event was de minimis, and all of the host’s obligations were fulfilled.”David Schwartz, a developer, organized a fund-raising event for Mr. Adams in 2018. Mr. Adams later opposed a community board and came out in favor of an application Mr. Schwartz had before the city.Emily AssiranThe Times identified several other fund-raisers others had hosted for which Mr. Adams’s campaign did not report any expenditures, in-kind contributions or intermediaries. A campaign spokesman said that he did not use a professional finance team, and that paperwork had sometimes fallen through the cracks.Four months after Mr. Schwartz’s event, Brooklyn’s Community Board 2 recommended against Slate’s zoning change, citing what its acting chairwoman, Irene Janner, called the distressing “Manhattanization” of the borough’s central business district.But on Nov. 30, Mr. Adams came out in favor of the rezoning, provided the developer met certain conditions, such as affordable housing designed for families and the elderly, using Brooklyn-based contractors and incorporating features like solar panels. In his report, he referred to the need for office space, among other considerations, but did not disclose his fund-raising relationship with Mr. Schwartz. The City Council later approved Slate’s rezoning.The Slate executive was one of at least three donors receiving the borough president’s endorsement for zoning changes against the wishes of community boards. The others were also later approved by the City Council.Last September, for example, Mr. Adams came out in favor of a rezoning for a proposed 13-story building on Coney Island Avenue in Windsor Terrace, overlooking Prospect Park.Some local residents and Community Board 7 had opposed the plans by JEMB Realty, the developer, arguing mainly that the building’s height would be inappropriate for the neighborhood. Mr. Adams’s endorsement came with several conditions, including more parking for cars and bicycles.In March, JEMB’s founder, Joseph L. Jerome, contributed $2,000 to the borough president’s campaign. Mr. Jerome had last donated to Mr. Adams in March 2015.Mr. Jerome said the donations had nothing to do with Mr. Adams’s actions. “He’s a very good candidate,” Mr. Jerome said.Late last year, Mr. Adams appeared by Zoom as a special guest at an investor meetingfor SL Green, Manhattan’s largest office landlord, offering reassurance after a pandemic year of empty buildings.Mr. Adams called SL Green an “amazing company,” addressed its investors as “partners” and assured them that he would push for a speeded return to offices, suggesting that up to 90 percent of workers could do so safely.“What oil is to Texas, real estate is to New York,” Mr. Adams said. “And we take great pride in having the real oil fields here in our real estate community.”Not long afterward, on March 11, the wife and the sister of SL Green’s chairman, Marc Holliday, along with three company executives, donated a total of $10,000 to Mr. Adams’s campaign. None had contributed before. Mr. Holliday, who is on the city’s doing-business list, did not donate. Mr. Holliday and SL Green declined to comment.The Bully PulpitMr. Adams has used news conferences to promote donors’ products and causes.Elizabeth D. Herman for The New York TimesIn March, Mr. Adams stood in front of Borough Hall, his thumb up, as the influential New York City local of the Service Employees International Union endorsed him for mayor. Beside him stood Tiffany Raspberry, a lobbyist who is also a consultant on his campaign payroll.“Let’s Go #TeamAdams!” Ms. Raspberry tweeted afterward.Ms. Raspberry has registered to lobby Mr. Adams on behalf of at least three clients over the past few years. Executives from all three organizations have donated to Mr. Adams’s campaign fund, as has Ms. Raspberry. She has given to One Brooklyn as well.One of the clients was Mr. Schwartz of Slate. Another, Core Services Group, is a shelter provider for the homeless.In 2017, after city officials announced that Core would open a shelter in Crown Heights, local residents complained that their area was unfairly burdened. Mr. Adams took Core’s side, using a potent tool he has wielded for some donors: the platform of his office. In his newsletter, he urged the community to embrace the shelter and its occupants, writing that his mother had called to tell him that when he was a child, they had routinely been on the verge of homelessness.“Although I still believe that the city should have opened the first of its new shelters in communities that don’t currently have any, my mom has assisted me in amending my thinking on this issue,” Mr. Adams wrote.Over the next three years, 13 Core executives and employees contributed nearly $7,000 to his campaign, records show. In a statement, Core said its employees know “the importance of supporting leaders who champion policies that leave no New Yorker behind.”In an email, Ms. Raspberry said she had known Mr. Adams for 25 years, since her mother worked in the same police precinct as him, and had supported him because he had “consistently been there for people in need and communities of color.”She added, “I find it disturbing that any time a Black woman achieves any level of success on her own merits, questions are raised.”Mr. Adams has publicized products as well.In 2018, he held a news conference at Borough Hall to tout BolaWrap, a Spider-Man-like device that he said the police could use to subdue criminal suspects or the emotionally disturbed.“I’m formally requesting the department pilot this nonlethal restraint technology,” Mr. Adams tweeted later.Scot Cohen, executive chairman of Wrap Technologies, the company that sells the device, had given Mr. Adams’s campaign $1,500 four months before the news conference and gave $2,500 more three months later. The chief financial officer, James Barnes, contributed $5,000. And during the same period, Mr. Adams received $5,100 from Richard Abbe, a former business associate of Mr. Cohen’s and co-founder of Iroquois Capital Management, a Wrap investor. Mr. Abbe and Wrap executives did not respond to requests for comment.The company has featured Mr. Adams prominently on its website.Others who have contributed to Mr. Adams and benefited from his bully pulpit say they simply appreciate his attentiveness to their causes.In 2015, a year into his first term, Mr. Adams organized a news conference on a snowy Sunday to highlight the plight of Hurricane Sandy victims. He stood with two lawyers outside the Gerritsen Beach home of a family that said an insurance company had fraudulently denied its claim for damage from the 2012 storm. Mr. Adams urged homeowners to refile their rejected claims, and called on the state attorney general’s office to oversee the process.Three days earlier, records show, the two lawyers, along with the father and brother of one of them, had donated a total of $8,500 to the Adams campaign. The lawyers’ donations were the largest they had ever made to a city official, records show.One of the lawyers, Benjamin Pinczewski, said he and his partner later recovered millions of dollars in settlements for the hurricane victims.Mr. Pinczewski said the donations and news conference were unrelated and noted that he had donated to Mr. Adams on many other occasions. After learning that insurance companies were wrongly denying claims from hurricane victims, he said, he had reached out to many politicians. Only Mr. Adams and a local councilman responded.“Eric showed me right then and there that he wasn’t just talk,” Mr. Pinczewski said.Reporting was contributed by More

Cameron Webb decisively won a four-way Democratic primary in Virginia on Tuesday, setting up a potentially competitive race in the state’s Fifth Congressional District, where the Republican incumbent was recently ousted in a drive-through convention. If he wins in the Republican-leaning district in November, Dr. Webb, 37, will become the first black physician to serve […] More

Mark Meadows faces electoral fraud question over voter registration addressDonald Trump’s last chief of staff reported to have registered using North Carolina mobile home at which he seems never to have lived Mark Meadows played a key role in supporting and advancing Donald Trump’s lie about widespread electoral fraud in his defeat by Joe Biden, but the former White House chief of staff may have committed such fraud himself.According to the New Yorker, Meadows registered to vote at a property in North Carolina at which he appears never to have lived.Mark Meadows was at the center of the storm on 6 January. But only Trump could call it offRead moreMeadows resigned from the US House and became Trump’s fourth and last chief of staff in March 2020. He registered to vote in September, the New Yorker said.Asked for the address “where you physically live”, the magazine said, Meadows “wrote down the address of a 14ft-by-62ft mobile home in Scaly Mountain”, North Carolina, and “listed his move-in date for this address as the following day, 20 September”.“Meadows does not own this property and never has,” the New Yorker said. “It is not clear that he has ever spent a single night there.”Meadows did not comment to the magazine. The New Yorker spoke to the home’s former and current owners and neighbors and said that while members of Meadows’ family may have spent time in the property, it was not clear he ever slept there.The current owner said: “I’ve made a lot of improvements. But when I got it, it was not the kind of place you’d think the chief of staff of the president would be staying.”Told of Meadows using the address to register to vote, the owner said: “That’s weird that he would do that. Really weird.”Were Meadows to be found to have committed voter fraud, it would not be the first time he had embarrassed the president he served.In December, the Guardian was first to report that in his memoir, Meadows describes how Trump tested positive for Covid-19 but covered up the result (and a second negative) and went ahead with his first debate against Joe Biden.The memoir repeats Trump’s claims about voter fraud, lies which stoked the deadly attack on Congress on 6 January 2021.Meadows initially cooperated with the House committee investigating the attack, then withdrew. The committee recommended a charge of criminal contempt of Congress. None has been forthcoming from the Department of Justice.As the New Yorker pointed out, it is a federal crime to provide false information to register to vote in a federal election.Melanie D Thibault, director of the board of elections in Macon county, North Carolina, told the New Yorker she was “kind of dumbfounded” by Meadows’ registration.She also said he had voted absentee, by mail, in the 2020 election.Meadows’ old boss has repeatedly attacked voting by mail – despite doing it himself.TopicsMark MeadowsUS elections 2020newsReuse this content More

Judge Aileen M. Cannon, under scrutiny for past rulings favoring the former president, has presided over only a few criminal cases that went to trial.Aileen M. Cannon, the Federal District Court judge assigned to preside over former President Donald J. Trump’s classified documents case, has scant experience running criminal trials, calling into question her readiness to handle what is likely to be an extraordinarily complex and high-profile courtroom clash.Judge Cannon, 42, has been on the bench since November 2020, when Mr. Trump gave her a lifetime appointment shortly after he lost re-election. She had not previously served as any kind of judge, and because about 98 percent of federal criminal cases are resolved with plea deals, she has had only a limited opportunity to learn how to preside over a trial.A Bloomberg Law database lists 224 criminal cases that have been assigned to her, and a New York Times review of those cases identified four that went to trial. Each was a relatively routine matter, like a felon who was charged with illegally possessing a gun. In all, the four cases added up to 14 trial days.Judge Cannon’s suitability to handle such a high-stakes and high-profile case has already attracted scrutiny amid widespread perceptions that she demonstrated bias in the former president’s favor last year, when she oversaw a long-shot lawsuit filed by Mr. Trump challenging the F.B.I.’s court-approved search of his Florida home and club, Mar-a-Lago.In that case, she shocked legal experts across the ideological divide by disrupting the investigation — including suggesting that Mr. Trump gets special protections as a former president that any other target of a search warrant would not receive — before a conservative appeals court shut her down, ruling that she never had legitimate legal authority to intervene.“She’s both an inexperienced judge and a judge who has previously indicated that she thinks the former president is subject to special rules so who knows what she will do with those issues?” said Julie O’Sullivan, a Georgetown University criminal law professor and former federal prosecutor.In theory, Judge Cannon could step aside on her own for any reason, or the special counsel, Jack Smith, could ask her to do so under a federal law that says judges are supposed to recuse themselves if their “impartiality might reasonably be questioned” — and, if she declines, ask an appeals court to order her to recuse.There is no sign that either of them is considering taking that step, however — or what its legal basis would be.The appeals court last year found that she was wrong about jurisdiction law, not that she was biased. And judges have previously heard litigation involving presidents who appointed them — including the Trump search warrant lawsuit, in which, notably, two of the three appeals court judges who reversed her intervention were also Trump appointees.By bringing the charges in Florida, where most of the alleged crimes took place, instead of Washington, where the grand jury that primarily investigated the matter sat, the special counsel, Mr. Smith, avoided a potential fight over whether the case was in the right venue but ran the risk that Judge Cannon could be assigned the case.But the chances appeared low. Under the Southern District of Florida’s practices, a computer in the clerk’s office assigns new cases randomly among judges who sit in the division where the matter arose or a neighboring one — even if the matter relates to a previous case. Nevertheless, Judge Cannon got it.In a previous case, Judge Cannon suggested that Mr. Trump gets special protections as a former president that any other target of a search warrant would not receive.Doug Mills/The New York TimesThe chief clerk of the court has said that five active judges were eligible to draw Mr. Trump’s case, and that Judge Cannon’s odds of receiving it were slightly higher than others because half of her cases come from the West Palm Beach division, where Mar-a-Lago is. The clerk has also said normal procedures were followed in making the assignment.Several lawyers who have appeared before Judge Cannon in run-of-the-mill criminal cases described her in interviews as generally competent and straightforward — and also, in notable contrast to her rulings hobbling the Justice Department after the search, someone who does not otherwise have a reputation of being unusually sympathetic to defendants.At the same time, they said, she is demonstrably inexperienced and can bristle when her actions are questioned or unexpected issues arise. The lawyers declined to speak publicly because they did not want to be identified criticizing a judge who has a lifetime appointment and before whom they will likely appear again.Judge Cannon’s four criminal trials identified in the review involved basic charges, including accusations of possession of a gun by a felon, assaulting a prosecutor, smuggling undocumented migrants from the Bahamas, and tax fraud. The four matters generated between two and five days of trial each.The Trump case is likely to raise myriad complexities that would be challenging for any judge — let alone one who will be essentially learning on the job.There are expected to be fights, for example, over how classified information can be used as evidence under the Classified Information Procedures Act, a national security law that Judge Cannon has apparently never dealt with before.Defense lawyers are also likely to ask her to suppress as evidence against Mr. Trump notes and testimony from one of his lawyers. While another federal judge already ruled that a grand jury could get otherwise confidential lawyer communications under the so-called crime-fraud exception to attorney-client privilege, Judge Cannon will not be bound by that decision in determining what can be used in trial.The judge will likely have to vet claims of prosecutorial misconduct put forward by Mr. Trump and his defense team.“That has already been signaled in a lot of the media statements made by Trump and his lawyers,” Samuel Buell, a Duke University law professor and former federal prosecutor, said of the misconduct claims. “This is very typical, but she is a very inexperienced judge, so even if she weren’t favorable to Trump, she might hear a lot of stuff and think she is hearing stuff that is unusual even though it’s made all the time.”And the judge will decide on challenges to potential jurors when either side claims someone might be biased for or against one of the most famous and polarizing people in the world.Fritz Scheller, a longtime defense lawyer in Florida who has had cases in Judge Cannon’s district but not appeared before her, said in complex and high-profile cases, even the most experienced judges are forced to think on their feet to make swift decisions.In this case, he said, the issue of how to protect the jury from being influenced by the vast media coverage alone “will be a herculean task” for any judge.Alina Habba, a spokeswoman for Mr. Trump, speaking to reporters in Miami on Tuesday. The case has already received vast media coverage that could influence a jury.Doug Mills/The New York TimesIn the aftermath of the F.B.I.’s Mar-a-Lago search, Judge Cannon repeatedly sided with the man who had appointed her. She blocked investigators from having access to the classified government documents seized from him and entertained an unprecedented legal theory put forward by his lawyers that White House records could be kept from the Justice Department in a criminal investigation on the basis of executive privilege.Eventually, a conservative appeals court panel — including two other Trump appointees — reversed her, writing in a pair of scathing opinions that she had misread the law and had no jurisdiction to interfere in the investigation. The Supreme Court let those rebukes stand without comment, and she acquiesced, dismissing the lawsuit.It remains to be seen what she will take from the reputational damage she brought upon herself at the start of what is likely to be many decades on the bench. She could continue her pattern from last year, or she could use her second turn in the spotlight to adjudicate the documents case more evenhandedly.While Mr. Trump and his White House lawyers put forward many young conservatives to fill judicial vacancies when he was president, Judge Cannon was unusually young and inexperienced. She was 38 years old and working on appellate matters as an assistant United States attorney in Florida when Mr. Trump nominated her for a lifetime appointment, and little about her legal résumé up to that point was remarkable.Still, the Senate majority leader at the time, Mitch McConnell, Republican of Kentucky, pushed through her confirmation vote in the lame-duck session after the election. Her nomination received little attention and did not draw particular fire from Democrats; she was confirmed 56 to 21, with 12 Democrats joining 44 Republicans to vote in favor.The daughter of a Cuban exile, she grew up in Miami and graduated from Duke University and the University of Michigan Law School. She was identifiable as ideologically conservative, having joined the Federalist Society in law school and clerked for a conservative appeals court judge.She had been approached by the office of Senator Marco Rubio, Republican of Florida, and asked to apply to a panel he uses to vet potential judicial candidates, she wrote on her Senate Judiciary Committee questionnaire. She also interviewed with a lawyer for Senator Rick Scott, Republican of Florida, before talking to the White House, she wrote.(The Senate’s “blue slip” practice empowers senators to block confirmation proceedings for nominees from their states, so senators wield significant power over who the White House nominates. There are currently three vacant seats on the Federal District Court in South Florida for which President Biden has made no nomination, suggesting that Mr. Rubio and Mr. Scott have not agreed to let him fill those seats with anyone acceptable to a Democratic White House.)Judge Cannon had been approached by Senator Marco Rubio, Republican of Florida, and asked to apply to a panel that vets potential judicial candidates.Tom Brenner for The New York TimesJudge Cannon had graduated from law school in 2008, and her 12 years as a lawyer were the minimum the American Bar Association considers necessary for a judicial nominee. A substantial majority of the bar association’s vetting panel deemed her to be merely “qualified,” though a minority deemed her “highly qualified.”Her criminal trial experience before becoming a judge was limited.In 2004, when she was working as a paralegal at the Justice Department’s civil rights division before going to law school, she had “assisted federal prosecutors in two federal criminal jury trials,” she wrote on the questionnaire.From 2009 to 2012, she was an associate at the law firm Gibson Dunn, where she worked on regulatory proceedings, not criminal matters. (She wrote that she participated in two administrative trials before agencies like the Securities and Exchange Commission.)From 2013 to 2020, she was an assistant United States attorney in Florida. While most of that time was spent on appellate work, until 2015 she had worked in the major crimes division on ​“a wide range of federal firearms, narcotics, fraud and immigration offenses” that resulted in the conviction of 41 defendants, she wrote. Most of those cases, however, ended in plea deals: She tried just four of them to a jury verdict, she wrote.She was the lead counsel for two of those cases — both involving a felon charged with possessing a firearm, she wrote, and served as assistant to the main prosecutor in the other two cases, one of which she said involved possession of images of child sexual exploitation.Other parts of Judge Cannon’s questionnaire answers put forward few experiences or accomplishments that clearly distinguished her as seasoned and demonstrably ready for the powers and responsibilities of a lifetime appointment to be a federal judge.It asked, for example, for every published writing she had produced. She listed 20 items. Of those, 17 were pieces she had written in the summer of 2002 as a college intern at The Miami Herald’s Spanish-language sister publication, El Nuevo Herald, with headlines like “Winners in the Library Quest Competition.” The other three were articles published on Gibson Dunn’s website describing cases the firm had handled, each of which had three other co-authors.The questionnaire also asked her to provide all reports, memorandums and policy statements she had written for any organization, all testimony or official statements on public or legal policy she had ever delivered to any public body, and all her speeches, talks, panel discussions, lectures or question-and-answer sessions.“None,” she wrote.Kitty Bennett More