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    To protect the supreme court’s legitimacy, a conservative justice should step down | Lawrence Douglas

    OpinionUS politicsTo protect the supreme court’s legitimacy, a conservative justice should step downLawrence DouglasIf presidents do not get to replace justices in an election year, then Coney Barrett’s confirmation is illegitimate; if presidents do, then Gorsuch’s is illegitimate. You can’t have it both ways Tue 21 Sep 2021 06.15 EDTLast modified on Tue 21 Sep 2021 06.19 EDTIn Planned Parenthood v Casey, a landmark decision from 1992, the US supreme court memorably noted that its “power lies … in its legitimacy”. If the people come to question the court’s legitimacy, they will cease to accept the “the Judiciary as fit to determine what the Nation’s law means and to declare what it demands”.It appears that Justices Clarence Thomas and Amy Coney Barrett share these worries. In separate remarks this month, both justices sought to assure the public that, in Coney Barrett’s words, “this court is not comprised of a bunch of partisan hacks”. Thomas said much the same, seeking to disabuse his listeners of the belief that justices “are just always going right to [their] personal preference”.Triggering the justices’ concerns was the withering criticism that has been directed at the court’s recent decision to leave in place, at least for now, a Texas law that turns ordinary citizens into de facto bounty hunters empowered to sue anyone who performs or “aids and abets” an abortion for a woman past her sixth week of pregnancy. The Texas law cannot be squared with the court’s ruling in Planned Parenthood, which recognized that a “woman’s right to terminate her pregnancy before viability … is a rule of law and a component of liberty we cannot renounce”. To renounce that principle, the court warned, would cause “profound and unnecessary damage to the Court’s legitimacy, and to the Nation’s commitment to the rule of law”. But that is precisely what the court did in letting Texas’s transparently unconstitutional law take legal effect.But far from recognizing or examining their own role in contributing to the erosion of the court’s legitimacy, the two justices turned to other precincts to assign blame. It’s the media, Thomas whined, that are “destroying our institutions” – this from a justice who dissented from the court’s refusal to hear Trump’s challenge to a Pennsylvania state court decision that extended the deadline for the receipt of mail-in ballots by three days. Thomas acknowledged that the volume of mail-ins at stake had no material bearing on the outcome of the Pennsylvania race; all the same, he was prepared – in a stunning display of either partisanship or tone-deafness – to have the supreme court, scant weeks after the 6 January insurrection, offer tacit support to Trump’s attack on the 2020 election results. And, in now blaming the media for the court’s self-inflicted wounds, Thomas is effectively echoing Trump’s toxic rhetoric about “fake news”. Who is the institution-destroyer here?Alas, Justice Coney Barrett joined Thomas in attacking the press. The media, she charged, makes decisions such as the Texas case “seem results-oriented”. It is worth noting that the justice made her remarks at the McConnell Center at the University of Louisville, with Senator Mitch McConnell, the center’s namesake, in attendance. It was McConnell, of course, who in the wake of Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death six weeks before the 2020 election, pushed through Coney Barrett’s nomination, in transparent violation of the very justification he had offered four years earlier to deny President Obama the right to name a justice to fill a court vacancy that ultimately went to Neil Gorsuch. That McConnell’s cynical manipulation of the rules was designed to compose a court that would produce dependably conservative results appears lost on Coney Barrett. Indeed, it was her vote that was determinative in the Texas case. Had Ginsburg still been on the court, the decision would have gone 5-4 the other way. McConnell secured the results he wanted.If Coney Barrett were genuinely concerned with promoting the court’s legitimacy, she might consider resigning. Or rather, she and Gorsuch might agree to flip a coin to decide who should leave the court. If presidents do not get to replace justices in an election year, then Coney Barrett’s confirmation is illegitimate; and if presidents do get to replace, then Gorsuch’s confirmation must be illegitimate. You can’t have it both ways – not if you believe that the composition of the court should be the product of a principled process.Coney Barrett appears to willfully overlook the fact that she has been elevated to a rarefied position through a tarnished process that will taint all decisions in which her vote plays a crucial role. And just as we might hope that a person who, through no fault of their own, has come into possession of a good not rightfully theirs, would return that object, Coney Barrett and Gorsuch could do the right thing for the nation by agreeing that one of them should step down.Clearly, this isn’t going to happen. Yet it would powerfully bolster the legitimacy of a court the very composition of which smacks of illegitimacy.
    Lawrence Douglas is the author, most recently, of Will He Go? Trump and the Looming Election Meltdown in 2020. He is a contributing opinion writer for the Guardian US and teaches at Amherst College
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    Feminists warned about America’s abortion crisis for years. We were written off as hysterical

    OpinionAbortionFeminists warned about America’s abortion crisis for years. We were written off as hystericalMoira DoneganWhy has the effective end of Roe v Wade been met with shock by so many corners of political life? Sat 4 Sep 2021 06.00 EDTLast modified on Sat 4 Sep 2021 06.01 EDTThis was predictable. In fact, it was predicted. The end of Roe v Wade and nationwide protections for abortion rights became likely in 2016, the night that Donald Trump was elected. It became inevitable in 2018, when Anthony Kennedy, the fifth pro-choice vote, retired and handed his seat to Trump to fill. But the end of nationwide legal abortion in America has been coming for decades, and there has been no ambiguity about the appetite for Roe’s overturn on the American right. And crucially, feminists have been sounding the alarm for decades, warning in increasingly desperate terms that gradual erosions of Roe’s protections in the law had led to a rapid and widespread loss of abortion access on the ground.Republicans seethe with violence and lies. Texas is part of a bigger war they’re waging | Rebecca SolnitRead morePerhaps the form of Roe’s eventual downfall was a surprise. Few thought that Roe’s fatal case would be over Texas’s new abortion law, with its privatized enforcement system of bounty-hunting civil suits designed to elide judicial review. And among a sea of legal observers, only Cardozo law professor Kate Shaw seems to have predicted that the court would dispose of a long-established constitutional right in so rushed and perfunctory a proceeding as a late-night order on the shadow docket. But this outcome was never in doubt. Trump promised to appoint antichoice judges. He kept that promise. This week his three appointees – Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett, joined by Samuel Alito and Clarence Thomas – did what all of them know they were put on the court to do. They allowed the first state to outlaw abortion within its borders.So why has the effective end of Roe v Wade, coming in a one paragraph order in the wee hours of Thursday morning, been met with shock by so many corners of political life? The Republican party’s control of the federal judiciary had left little doubt that those judges most inclined to strip women of their rights would have both the power and the opportunity to do so. And yet politicians, pundits, and legal observers had for years assured the public that the justices would not gut abortion rights, despite the clear evidence that they would. We were assured that the Republicans on the court were less determined to gut Roe than they appeared to be, and that those worried about the future of abortion rights were overreacting.The court would not gut Roe, we were told by politicians and academics, because they said they wouldn’t. Kavanaugh, the ruddy-faced Trump appointee, had referred to Roe as “important precedent”. That this rather tepid comment was a disingenuous bit of posturing meant to ease his confirmation to the court was evident to everyone. Nevertheless, defenders of the confirmation process implored the public to treat it as if it had been uttered in good faith.In a speech announcing her decision to vote to confirm Kavanaugh, Senator Susan Collins said that she believed Kavanaugh would not vote to overturn Roe, or to gut it procedurally, because “his views on honoring precedent would preclude attempts to do by stealth that which one has committed not to do overtly.” Of course, the court, with Kavanaugh’s help, did effectively overturn Roe “by stealth” – in an unsigned order in the middle of the night.Of the feminists who opposed his nomination, Collins was dismissive, even patronizing. “We have seen special-interest groups whip their followers into a frenzy by spreading misrepresentations and outright falsehoods about Judge Kavanaugh’s judicial record.” She condemned these women’s concerns as “over-the-top rhetoric and distortions”.The court would not gut Roe, we were told by the legal world, because the justices were too professional. Barrett, the third of Trump’s appointees, had been a member of an antichoice faculty group while a law professor at Notre Dame. She had given a lecture to a Right to Life group; she had signed a letter condemning Roe and its “brutal legacy”. And yet despite Barrett’s extremist and evidently very passionately held views on abortion, people posing as serious told us that we could not know how she would vote on abortion rights, that the opinions and worldviews of judges would somehow not affect their legal judgement. “My personal views don’t have anything to do with the way I would decide cases,” Barrett told Senator Patrick Leahy when she was asked about her lengthy history of anti-abortion advocacy. The statement insulted both Leahy’s intelligence, and ours.And yet as conservative, antichoice judges consolidated their power, several myths about the court persisted. We were told that the people who looked like rabidly conservative justices were really reasoned moderates; or that at least they would be professional and impartial in their judgements; or that at least the removal of abortion rights would move slowly. These myths were presented as the only serious way to understand the court. Feminist claims that what appeared to be happening really was happening – that the judiciary really had been taken over by antichoice zealots, that the ability of women to control their own bodies and lives would soon be stripped away – were labeled as delusional and silly. Faith in the integrity of the conservative justices was cast as informed, mature, and intelligent. And it was contrasted with the supposed hysteria of feminists, whose passion and fear was taken as a sign of their own delusion, not as an indication of the seriousness of the problem.This notion, that the only intelligent response to a threat to women’s rights is to be calm, blasé, and preemptively assured that nothing very bad or important will result, has been weaponized with particular insidiousness over the course of the abortion debate during the past five years. In the halls of power, contempt for abortion rights activists was nearly complete.After Kennedy’s resignation, the CNN host Brian Stelter took to social media to scold a liberal activist for her fear of a Roe reversal. “We are not ‘a few steps away from the Handmaid’s Tale’,” he wrote. “I don’t think this kind of fear-mongering helps anybody.” Confronted with women opposed to the confirmation of Kavanaugh, Senator Ben Sasse all but rolled his eyes. There had been, he said, “screaming protesters saying ‘women are going to die’ at every hearing for decades.”The insistence that Roe is not in danger, and that women’s fear is silly, persists even now, after the court has effectively ended Roe. “Now breathe,” wrote the law professor Jonathan Turley in a blogpost urging women’s rights advocates to calm down, as if they were toddlers in the midst of a temper tantrum. “It is ridiculous to say that it was some manufactured excuse for a partisan ruling.”Is it ridiculous? The public has no real reason to believe that the supreme court is acting in good faith – aside from the repeated assurances of supposed experts whose predictions have usually been wrong. Instead, it was the so-called alarmist feminists, the ones warning about manufactured excuses for partisan attacks on abortion rights, who got their predictions mostly right. Maybe these women are not so ridiculous after all. Maybe it’s time to start listening to them.
    Moira Donegan is a Guardian US columnist
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    The Guardian view on the Texas abortion ban: this is not the end | Editorial

    OpinionAbortionThe Guardian view on the Texas abortion ban: this is not the endEditorialThe supreme court’s refusal to block the law marks a grave blow to the freedom and safety of women Thu 2 Sep 2021 13.45 EDTLast modified on Thu 2 Sep 2021 14.31 EDTThe cruel, vindictive and dangerous law that has taken effect in Texas is much more than the most extreme anti-abortion legislation in the United States. To many, it understandably feels like the beginning of the end – denying women the rights enjoyed under the landmark Roe v Wade ruling, which established that abortion is legal before the foetus is viable outside the womb, at around 24 weeks. It will further embolden the religious right. Though polling suggests the majority of Americans believe that terminations should be legal in most or all cases, this is already the worst ever legislative year for restrictions.But it is better understood as the end of the beginning. The right to abortion has, in practice, been systematically dismantled through methods ranging from intimidation to cynical regulation. This moment is the culmination of the first stage in a decades-long war on the rights of women, made possible by Donald Trump’s appointment of judges known to support restricting reproductive rights. A divided supreme court refused to block the legislation while the legal battle over it plays out.This is a near-total abortion ban, with an exemption only for medical emergencies. The six-week limit in practice applies not from fertilisation, but from six weeks after a woman’s last period, used by doctors to date pregnancies – when most women will not even know they are pregnant. Up to 90% of the state’s procedures happened after that time. International evidence, and America’s own past, testifies that it will not stop abortions. It will push them underground, endangering women’s health and lives. It is an attack on the rights of all women, but above all will punish those who are poor and black, who already struggled to access services and will not be able to travel outside the state easily. It will hurt women who want to control their own bodies, including survivors of incest, rape and abuse. Many states have enacted similar laws, which have been blocked. But this one is especially egregious. It has used the architecture of the state to promote the rule of the mob. It prohibits officials from enforcing it, instead deputising ordinary citizens to sue anyone for suspected violations. While designed this way to make legal challenges harder, it is part of the broader turn of Trump Republicans towards vigilantism and away from democratic institutions. By promising a $10,000 bounty to anyone who sues successfully, it encourages the greedy as well as vindictive ex-partners and zealots to act. Not only abortion providers, but anyone who “aids and abets” an abortion is liable; it appears that even someone who drives a woman to a clinic could be targeted. There is no redress against malicious suits, even in cases where the plaintiff has a past history of similar claims. The result is that doctors and providers who comply with the law can still be put out of business by vexatious claims.Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s blistering dissent attacked the supreme court’s inaction in the face of “a breathtaking act of defiance – of the constitution, of this court’s precedents and of rights of women seeking abortions throughout Texas”. But she is in the minority as the court prepares to rule on a separate case – Mississippi’s ban on most abortions after 15 weeks – which anti-abortion activists see as a chance to overturn Roe v Wade. If that happens, bans will automatically come into force under trigger statutes enacted by multiple states. Others would be able to enforce pre-Roe v Wade bans that remain on their books.This law, like the wider anti-abortion drive, hurts women’s freedom, their health and even their lives. It has been achieved through the relentless efforts of activists who are not merely egging on but also funding others around the world. Meeting and defeating these challenges will require an equally committed, comprehensive and ambitious campaign. The opponents of women’s freedom will not stop. Defenders cannot either. This law will galvanise them.TopicsAbortionOpinionWomenUS supreme courtHealthRepublicansUS politicsLaw (US)editorialsReuse this content More

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    The supreme court is deciding more and more cases in a secretive ‘shadow docket’ | Moira Donegan

    OpinionUS politicsThe US supreme court is deciding more and more cases in a secretive ‘shadow docket’Moira DoneganThese emergency rulings – short, unsigned and issued without hearing oral arguments – undermine the public’s faith in the integrity of the court Tue 31 Aug 2021 06.14 EDTLast modified on Tue 31 Aug 2021 16.45 EDTLast week, it was Remain in Mexico. On Tuesday, the supreme court issued an order requiring the Biden administration to reinstate the Trump-era policy that required asylum seekers from Central America to stay across the border in Mexico while their claims are adjudicated. It was an uncommonly aggressive intervention into foreign policy, an area where previous courts have preferred a light touch, and it posed massive logistical, diplomatic and humanitarian crises at the border that will need to be rapidly resolved if the Biden administration is to comply with the order.Two days later, it was the eviction moratorium. On Thursday, the court blocked an extension of the federal emergency ban on evictions, gutting a 1944 law that gave the CDC the authority to implement such measures to curb disease, and endangering the 8m American households that are behind on rent – who now, without federal eviction protection, may face homelessness.Both of these orders last week were issued in the dead of night. Their opinions were truncated, light on the details of their legal reasoning, and unsigned. Vote counts were not issued showing how each justice decided. And despite the enormous legal and human impact that the decisions inflicted, they were the product of rushed, abbreviated proceedings. The court did not receive full briefs on these matters, heard no oral arguments and overrode the normal sequence of appellate proceedings to issue their orders.Welcome to the “shadow docket”, the so-called emergency proceedings that now constitute the majority of the supreme court’s business. Minimally argued, rarely justified and decided without transparency, shadow docket orders were once a tool the court used to dispense with unremarkable and legally unambiguous matters. To have an issue addressed on the shadow docket, a litigant has to apply for “emergency relief” – usually to stop a decision against them from a lower court from going into effect while appeals proceed. Traditionally, applicants would need to demonstrate that they would suffer “irreparable harm” if their petition wasn’t granted immediately. So one historical use of the shadow docket has been in federal death penalty cases, where the court has used the emergency proceeding to affirm or deny requests for stays of execution.But in recent years the court has largely dispensed with any meaningful application of the irreparable harm standard, and instead has entertained emergency relief petitions from more and more litigants, issuing shadow docket rulings on increasingly significant and controversial legal questions without the rigor or transparency that such issues demand.The term “shadow docket” was coined in 2015 by a conservative law professor to refer to the thousands of supreme court actions each term that defy the “normal procedural regularity” of the federal appellate process. A newer, expanded version of the shadow docket began to emerge in 2017, when the Trump administration came to power. Previously, shadow docket emergency requests had been rarely used, to advance the interests of the governing administration. From 2001 through 2016, the Department of Justice applied for these emergency relief interventions from the court only eight times. During the four years of Trump’s presidency, however, the justice department applied 41 times. The use of shadow docket requests by Trump’s justice department especially accelerated after 2018, when Justice Anthony Kennedy retired and was replaced by Brett Kavanaugh, initiating the court’s rightward lurch.The gambit worked. Of those 41 requests, the supreme court granted 28 of them in whole or in part, denying the Trump administration outright only four times – much more generous than the court has been to other litigants. Bypassing lower courts, the Trump administration was able to solicit the supreme court for a green light for border wall funding and construction, for a ban of transgender troops in the military, for a ban of immigrants from Muslim majority countries, and for many, many executions during the administration’s 11th-hour killing spree in the latter half of 2020.Ultimately, many of the policies that the court used the shadow docket to keep in place were never declared legal: they were simply rescinded when Trump left office. It was only because of the supreme court’s unusual intervention via the shadow docket that they were able to be enacted at all. If this seems like the court merely deferring to the prerogatives of the executive, rest assured that it isn’t: the court’s shadow docket has not been similarly generous towards Biden administration claims.In this way, the shadow docket’s expanded use raises troubling questions – both for transparency, and for the separation of powers. What does it mean for popular sovereignty when the unelected supreme court can overturn the actions of elected officials seemingly at whim, without reading briefs, without hearing arguments and without having to assign judges’ names to their opinions or make any effort to explain their reasoning? The supreme court’s cryptic, late-night shadow docket decrees risk overextending the court’s already tremendous power, and its lack of transparency shrinks the already slim opportunities for oversight. There is considerable potential for abuse, and there are also simple logistical problems: without a real accounting of the justices’ reasoning, lower courts are left to guess why a certain decision was handed down, rendering them less equipped to interpret precedent.And all of this is before we get to the shadow docket’s real problem: it further undermines the already severely damaged public trust in the court. The justices and the legal elites who flatter them like to say that the supreme court is composed of neutral, apolitical arbiters of the law. But this mythology conflicts with a growing public perception of the federal judiciary as protectors of Republican priorities. This impression is not helped by the reality that the court’s decisions on the shadow docket seem much less consistent in their legal reasoning than they do in their politics. In light of this, it is tempting to conclude that the court has transformed the once-anodyne tool of the shadow docket into a way to achieve the preferred outcomes of the conservative majority without having to justify its own actions to the public.Steve Vladeck, a University of Texas law professor and one of the shadow docket’s most prominent critics, summarized the danger in an article in the Harvard Law Review. The shadow docket, he writes, “risks the perception that the rule is not one for the federal government in general, but for the federal government at particular moments in time – perhaps depending on the identity (or political affiliation) of the sitting president, or perhaps, more granularly, depending on the political or ideological valence of the particular government policy at issue”.With respect to Professor Vladeck, maybe the shadow docket does not risk such a perception – maybe it reaffirms it.
    Moira Donegan is a Guardian US columnist
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    Why is the right suddenly interested in Native American adoption law? | Nick Estes

    OpinionUS politicsWhy is the US right suddenly interested in Native American adoption law?Nick EstesA 1978 law tried to remedy adoption practices created to forcibly assimilate Native children. Now conservative lawyers are arguing that the law constitutes ‘reverse racism’ Mon 23 Aug 2021 06.23 EDTLast modified on Mon 23 Aug 2021 12.05 EDTGeorge Armstrong Custer of the Seventh Cavalry was infamous during the 19th-century Indian wars for riding into the enemy camp, holding Native women, children and elders hostage at gunpoint, and forcing the surrender of the tribe. He systematically attacked and captured civilians to crush Indigenous resistance, which is partly how he defeated the Cheyenne at the Battle of Washita River in 1868. Cheyenne, Lakota and Arapaho warriors later killed Custer as he fled after trying the same hostage-taking ploy at the Battle of Greasy Grass in 1876.Attacking non-combatants, especially children, to enable the conquest of land by destroying the family, and therefore Indigenous nations, wasn’t unique to Custer or the US military.There’s a reason why “forcibly transferring children” from one group to another is an international legal definition of genocide. Taking children has been one strategy for terrorizing Native families for centuries, from the mass removal of Native children from their communities into boarding schools to their widespread adoption and fostering out to mostly white families. It’s what led to the passage of the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) of 1978, touchstone legislation that aimed to reverse more than a century of state-sponsored family separation.Yet the spirit of Custer still haunts the fate of Native children even today. The fight has shifted from battlefield to courtroom.In the new season of the This Land podcast premiering this Monday, Cherokee journalist Rebecca Nagle shows how corporate lawyers and rightwing thinktanks like the Cato Institute have teamed up with non-Native families to not only dismantle the ICWA but the entire legal structure protecting Native rights. And so far, they’ve made small but important victories.Last April, an appeals court upheld parts of a federal district court decision, in a case called Brackeen v Haaland, that found parts of ICWA “unconstitutional”. The non-Indian plaintiffs contend that federal protections to keep Native children with Native families constitute illegal racial discrimination, and that ICWA’s federal standards “commandeer” state courts and agencies for a federal agenda. Put plainly, the mostly white families wanting to foster and adopt Native children are claiming reverse racism and arguing that federal overreach is trampling states’ rights – two codewords frequently associated with dismantling anti-racist policies.According to this upside-down logic, ICWA – monumental legislation consciously designed to undo genocidal, racist policy – is racist because it prevents mostly non-Indians from adopting Native children. The thinking is as old as the “civilizing” mission of colonialism – saving brown children from brown parents.Native child welfare in practice, however, is quite different, and, as Nagle shows in story after heartbreaking story, it very often works against the interests of Native children and families and in favor of families like the plaintiffs in Brackeen.Court records show that two of the three non-Indian families in Brackeen have successfully fostered or adopted Native children despite ICWA protections and with tribes agreeing to the adoption. But they still claim discrimination.A mountain of evidence suggests that Native families, particularly poor ones, are the real victims.In two studies from 1969 to 1974, the Association on American Indian Affairs found that 25-35% of all Native children had been separated from the families and placed in foster homes or adoptive homes or institutions. Ninety percent were placed in non-Indian homes.ICWA aimed to reverse this trend. Today, Native children are four times more likely to be removed from their families than white children are from theirs. And according to a 2020 study, in many states Native family separation has surpassed rates prior to ICWA. This is mostly due to states ignoring or flouting ICWA requirements.A common cause for removal is “neglect”, a form of abuse and a highly skewed claim especially when the Native families most targeted are poor. Failure to pay rent, for example, can result in eviction and homelessness and the placement of a child in state foster care system because of unstable living conditions. Some state statutes may provide up to several thousands of dollars a child per month to foster parents, depending on the number of children in their care and a child’s special needs.Why doesn’t that money go towards keeping families together by providing homes instead of tearing them apart?And there’s the dark side of foster care.Much like the boarding school system which preceded it, foster care is rife with stories of sexual and physical abuse, neglect and forced assimilation into dominant, white culture. To say nothing of the lifelong trauma of being torn from one’s family and nation during the formative years of childhood.So why are corporate law firms like Gibson Dunn – which has represented Walmart, Amazon, Chevron and Shell and is a former employer of the far-right Arkansas senator Tom Cotton – showing up at custody battles to square off with poor Native families and tribes? Are they really interested in the welfare of Native children?It’s foolish to think Custer had the best interests of Native children in mind when he captured them at gunpoint to slaughter and imprison their parents or that the Indian boarding school system, which disappeared thousands of children and raped, tortured, and traumatized countless more, was about “education”.Powerful conservative forces want to bring Brackeen v Haaland to the supreme court not just to overturn the ICWA but to gut Native tribes’ federal protections and rights. Like their counterparts the anti-critical race crusaders, anti-ICWA advocates use the language of “equality” to target Native nations. The collective tyranny of the tribe, the thinking goes, violates the rights of the individual.It’s the libertarian spin on the genocidal logic of Richard Henry Pratt’s nineteenth century maxim to justify child removal: “Kill the Indian, save the man.” The “Indian” is the tribal consciousness; the collective rights of a nation and its sovereignty must be weakened or destroyed to gain access to its lands and resources.Without the tribe, there is no Indian. When there is no Indian, there’s no one to claim the land.White congressmen from western states used the same reasoning to terminate tribes in the 1950s, making the argument that the collective rights of tribes shouldn’t trump individual rights of US citizens. The results were catastrophic. The legal abolition of dozens of tribes led to the privatization of their lands for the benefit of white settlers and businesses.Indigenous people are trying to drag the people of this land into the twentieth-first century by advocating for the protection of healthy water and land, the very elements necessary for all life, a true universal aspiration for a future on a livable planet that benefits everyone. And Native journalists like Rebecca Nagle reveal how nefarious corporate interests are trying to undermine that project by attacking the most precious among us – our children.
    Nick Estes is a citizen of the Lower Brule Sioux Tribe. He is a journalist, historian, and host of The Red Nation Podcast. He is the author of Our History Is the Future: Standing Rock Versus the Dakota Access Pipeline, and the Long Tradition of Indigenous Resistance (Verso, 2019)
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