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Louisiana Gov. Jeff Landry's new title "changes nothing for us at home," said the leader of Greenland. "We decide our future ourselves."
The leaders of Denmark and Greenland have rejected President Donald Trump's plans to take control of the latter country "very clearly before," said Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen and Greenlandic Premier Jens-Frederik Nielsen on Monday, but they were forced to make their resolve even more explicit after the US leader appointed a new special envoy to the autonomous Arctic island territory.
"National borders and the sovereignty of states are rooted in international law," said Frederiksen and Nielsen in a joint statement Monday. "You cannot annex other countries... Greenland belongs to the Greenlanders, and the US should not take over Greenland. We expect respect for our common territorial integrity.”
The two leaders spoke out after Trump announced his appointment of Republican Louisiana Gov. Jeff Landry as envoy to Greenland, with both men referencing plans to take control of the country of 57,000 people, which is part of the Danish kingdom.
"Jeff understands how essential Greenland is to our National Security, and will strongly advance our Country’s Interests for the Safety, Security, and Survival of our Allies, and indeed, the World," said the president Sunday evening.
Landry replied that it is "an honor to serve you in this volunteer position to make Greenland a part of the US."
While joining Frederiksen in forcefully rejecting any plans for an annexation of Greenland, Nielsen also dismissed Landry's new role in another statement.
“It may sound big," said Nielsen of the Trump administration's latest overtures. "But it changes nothing for us at home... We decide our future ourselves."
Trump has pushed for a takeover of Greenland since his first term in the White House, and he has ramped up efforts this year since returning to office. In August, Danish Foreign Minister Lars Løkke Rasmussen summoned Mark Stroh, the US chargé d'affaires in Denmark, after the country's public broadcaster reported that the Trump administration had launched a covert "influence" campaign to sew discord between Denmark and Greenland.
Earlier this year, polling showed that 85% of Greenlanders opposed joining the US. Hundreds of people protested in Greenland's capital, Nuuk, in March, ahead of US Vice President JD Vance's visit to the country.
Greenlandic photographer Orla Joelsen said Monday that should Landry come to the country, "he will be welcomed by a massive demonstration—larger than the one we held back in March this year."
The White House has said the US should take control of the mineral-rich island for "national security and even international security." According to the US Geological Survey, the Arctic holds 13% of undiscovered oil resources and 30% of undiscovered gas. The climate emergency and melting Arctic ice has also expanded the use of the northern ocean for trade shipping routes, and controlling Greenland would give the US a greater claim in the region.
Trump has threatened to use military action to seize Greenland, saying in March that the White House would "go as far as we have to” to take ownership of the island.
On Monday, Rasmussen told the press he plans to summon the US ambassador to Denmark, Ken Howery, to the European country to demand "an explanation" of Landry's appointment.
Rasmussen said Landry's statement about Greenland was "completely unacceptable."
“As long as we have a kingdom in Denmark that consists of Denmark, the Faroe Islands, and Greenland, we cannot accept that there are those who undermine our sovereignty," he said.
European Commission chief Ursula von der Leyen and European Council President Antonio Costa expressed "full solidarity" with Denmark and Greenland on Monday, calling territorial sovereignty "fundamental principles of international law."
"These principles are essential not only for the European Union," they said, "but for nations around the world."
The Louisiana state prison has been known for brutal working conditions, solitary confinement, and violence.
As a court in Fort Myers, Florida prepared to hold the first hearing on the legal rights of immigrants detained at "Alligator Alcatraz," the Everglades detention facility that a federal judge ordered to be shut down last month, US Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem on Wednesday said the Trump administration has found a new prison to house arrested migrants, and boasted that detainees will likely get "a message" from the facility the government selected.
The administration has struck a "historic" deal with the Louisiana state government, said officials Wednesday, and will begin detaining hundreds of immigrants in a new facility at the notorious Louisiana State Penitentiary, commonly called Angola and well known for its long history of violence and brutality against inmates as well as inhumane conditions.
Noem said in a press conference Wednesday that the prison, a former slave plantation, has "absolutely" been chosen due to its reputation for brutal working conditions—over which a group of inmates sued last year—use of solitary confinement, including for teenage prisoners; lack of access to clean water, sufficient food, and adequate hygiene; and violence.
"Absolutely, this is a facility that's notorious. It's a facility—Angola prison is legendary—but that's a message that these individuals that are going to be here, that are illegal criminals, need to understand," said Noem.
"Angola has a particularly dark history of abuse and repression that's almost singular in prison history in the United States."
An isolated section of the nation's largest maximum-security prison will house "the worst of the worst" criminal offenders who are immigrants, said Louisiana Gov. Jeff Landry, a Republican, after whom the Angola facility has apparently been named. The area where up to 400 immigrants will be held is being called Camp 57, an homage to Landry, who is the state's 57th governor.
Landry issued an emergency declaration in July to expedite repairs in the facility, which hasn't held prisoners since 2018 due to security and safety risks stemming from its deteriorating condition.
"Angola has a particularly dark history of abuse and repression that's almost singular in prison history in the United States," Eunice Cho, senior counsel at the National Prison Project at the American Civil Liberties Union, told The New York Times.
As with Alligator Alcatraz, the administration has come up with a nickname for the detention and deportation center: "Louisiana Lockup."
Landry emphasized Wednesday that "the most violent offenders" will be held in the facility, and said that "if you don't think that they belong in somewhere like this, you've got a problem."
The center, which is being run by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) contractors, was already housing 51 detainees as of Wednesday and is expected to hold up to 200 by the end of September.
Noem named examples of people convicted of crimes including murder, sexual assault, battery, and possession of child sexual abuse imagery, who would be sent to the Angola facility.
The administration's comments echoed earlier statements about Alligator Alcatraz, where officials said "the worst of the worst" would be held while they awaited deportation.
The Miami Herald and The Tampa Bay Times reported in July that just a third of about 900 people held at the facility had been convicted of crimes, which ranged from serious offenses to traffic violations. More than 250 people had never been convicted or charged with any crime.
One analysis in June found that nearly two-thirds of migrants who had been rounded up by ICE in the first months of Trump's second term did not have criminal convictions.
The closer we get to the millions of people who are facing evictions or already unhoused, the more likely we are to be motivated to do something about it.
Before the Super Bowl brought global attention and hundreds of thousands of visitors to New Orleans in February, Louisiana Gov. Jeff Landry cleared out over 100 unhoused people from downtown, busing them to an unheated warehouse miles away.
In our community of Indianapolis, advocates fear similar clear outs will happen when a planned city shelter outside the downtown area is finished.
Which makes me think of Stanley Milgram and Bryan Stevenson.
“On that fifth day, the weather was very cold and rainy. All I could think about was the young dad and his son without a home, with a job disrupted, and the young boy missing school.”
Milgram was the Yale University psychologist who conducted the famous experiments in the 1960s that showed a disturbing willingness of study participants to follow orders to administer what they thought were powerful electric shocks to other study participants.
The unsettling results remain widely known. But one component of Milgram’s experiments is less often discussed: The study participants were far less likely to administer the shocks if they could hear or see the victims of their actions.
Milgram used the word “proximity” to describe that variable. Which is the same term that Bryan Stevenson uses when he describes how we can change the world.
Stevenson is the attorney behind the book Just Mercy and the film of the same name, and founder of the Equal Justice Initiative. Stevenson traces his lifelong devotion to ending mass incarceration and promoting racial justice back to an event when he was still a law student. While interning for a human rights organization, Stevenson was assigned to go to a maximum-security prison in Georgia and deliver some procedural case news to a man on death row.
But the planned brief meeting turned into a three-hour deep, wide-ranging conversation. At the end of his time with Stevenson, the prisoner sang the hymn, “I’m Pressing on the Upward Way.”
Which launched Stevenson on his lifelong trajectory devoted to seeking justice. “It’s because I got close enough to a condemned man to hear his song,” he says. “When you get proximate, you hear the songs. And those melodies in those songs will empower you, they will inspire you, and they will teach you what doing justice and loving mercy is all about.”
What Gov. Jeff Landry, Stanley Milgram, and Bryan Stevenson can all tell us is this: The closer we get to the millions of people who are facing evictions or already unhoused, the more likely we are to be motivated to do something about it.
Carolyn Kingen can tell us that, too.
A retired critical care cardiac nurse, Kingen in 2020 joined some of her fellow members of the Meridian Street United Methodist Church in Indianapolis for a book study group that chose to read Matthew Desmond’s Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City. After reading and talking about the horrors of our nation’s eviction crisis, where 3.6 million households face forced removal from their homes each year, the group decided to see for themselves.
On one of Kingen’s first visits to eviction court, she heard a father of a seven-year-old boy explain to the judge that he had fallen behind on rent because he had not received expected overtime pay from his job. But, the father said, the overtime boost would be coming through in his next paycheck, which was arriving in a week. He could catch up on rent then, and pay late fees too.
The judge, unmoved, ordered the family to be evicted within five days. “The entire case lasted three or four minutes,” Kingen recalls. “In those few minutes, the decision was made that an employed father and mother had to pack their belongings and get out.”
“On that fifth day, the weather was very cold and rainy. All I could think about was the young dad and his son without a home, with a job disrupted, and the young boy missing school.”
Experiences like this spurred Kingen and the book group to create a Housing Justice Task Force in their church, and then join with other congregations of different faiths to create the Indiana Eviction Justice Network. I teach a law school clinic where my students and I represent people facing eviction in the same area. I can attest that the presence of court watchers changes the tenor of the proceedings, ramping up the respect paid to tenants facing the loss of their homes.
And the eviction court watchers go beyond the doors of the courtrooms. They take the proximity-provided lessons and use them to advocate with elected officials and the judges themselves. Rabbi Aaron Spiegel, who as director of the Greater Indianapolis Multifaith Alliance coordinates the court-watching program, connects the volunteers with lawmakers to push for housing reforms like mediation before eviction orders, sealings of past eviction records, living wages, and more and better affordable housing.
“Court watchers often know more about systemic housing issues than the elected officials they are talking to,” Spiegel says. Earlier this year, court watchers mobilized to lobby Indiana legislators in opposition to a bill that would have criminalized sleeping in public spaces. Last month, the legislation was withdrawn by its sponsor.
Court proceedings are open to the public, and several other communities across the country, in places like Greensboro, North Carolina; Houston, and Chicago, have court-watching programs, often connected to justice advocacy.
Kingen and many of the other court watchers are motivated by their faith or moral principles. “We are called to care for the poor, the orphans, widows—and in today’s society, we would include any group that is shunned or rejected,” she says. “I try to see Christ in the faces of every person I meet.”
Rabbi Spiegel says this same call to action crosses faith and moral traditions. “All religious traditions teach that we must take care of the ‘least among us’ and as such, housing is a human right,” he says.
The proximity Carolyn Kingen experiences in court allows her to see in those facing eviction not just the divine but herself as well. Kingen recalls a time when she could not pay her rent, but was fortunate enough to have a family member step up to help. “Each time I court watch, I try to remind myself that I could be that tenant appearing before the judge,” she says.
Placing herself in the shoes of those facing homelessness is far easier to do when she can be in the same room and hear their stories, Kingen says. Court proceedings are open to the public, and several other communities across the country, in places like Greensboro, North Carolina; Houston, and Chicago, have court-watching programs, often connected to justice advocacy.
Check and see if there is a program in your community. And if there isn’t, maybe consider helping start one yourself.