SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
"To the law, Arpaio is a convicted criminal who built his career on denying the constitutional and human rights of the most vulnerable among us. To Trump, he's "a patriot" who kept "Arizona safe." (Photo: Flickr/Gage Skidmore/CC)
Trump's Pardon Of Joe Arpaio Is Deeply Disturbing
The president called a man who freely violated people's constitutional rights a "patriot." What does that make his victims?
Aug 30, 2017
During a speech to a group of police officers in July, President Trump returned to one of his favorite themes of the campaign season: violence. "Please don't be too nice" to the "thugs being thrown into the back of a paddy wagon," Trump advised the officers. Be "rough."
The president's endorsement of police brutality was met with applause from the officers and shock from activists and pundits alike.
Sensing the brewing backlash, the White House insisted that the president was simply making a joke. Even Attorney General Jeff Sessions, the country's top law enforcement official -- a man with his own complicated history of encouraging the worst impulses of the police -- attempted to distance himself from the controversy.
Yet the president just proved that when it comes to endorsing police brutality, especially against communities of color, he's dead serious.
For more than 20 years, Sheriff Joe Arpaio of Maricopa County, Arizona terrorized Latino communities, harassed immigrants, and made life a living hell for prisoners in his care in order to build a reputation as "America's toughest sheriff".
These systematic violations of human and constitutional rights eventually landed Arpaio in legal trouble of his own. Then President Trump pardoned him.
Arpaio had been awaiting sentencing for a July conviction of criminal contempt.
Back in 2011, a federal judge ordered Arpaio to stop targeting and detaining Latinos just to inquire about their immigration status. Nevertheless, Arpaio persisted for another 18 months, insisting that his racial profiling was lawful. He emasculated inmates, forcing them to wear pink underwear, and attempted to starve them with food that was called inedible.
He tortured them, too: Beginning in the 1990s, Arpaio opened Tent City Jail, which forced inmates to live outside in the extreme Arizona heat. An untold number of inmates died.
To the law, Arpaio is a convicted criminal who built his career on denying the constitutional and human rights of the most vulnerable among us. To Trump, he's "a patriot" who kept "Arizona safe."
"Throughout his time as sheriff," a White House statement bleated, "Arpaio continued his life's work of protecting the public from the scourges of crime and illegal immigration." In other words, the innocent immigrants who were harassed, and the prisoners who were tortured, were the real criminals.
Trump promised to be the "law and order candidate" during his campaign. He codified this promise once he became president in the "Standing Up For Our Law Enforcement Community" section of the White House website. "The Trump administration will be a law and order administration," it echoed.
For the president, it seems, "standing up" for law enforcement includes allowing officers to subvert the rule of law to commit acts of brutality with impunity. Empowering law enforcement to "keep our streets free of crime and violence" means supporting racial profiling. And "law and order" only applies to some, namely those that support the president.
With Trump's pardon of Arpaio, a message has been sent: When it comes to police brutality of the kind Arpaio perpetuated for decades, the Trump administration won't simply be complicit in it. It will promote it.
And that's nothing to joke about.
An Urgent Message From Our Co-Founder
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
This column was distributed by OtherWords.
Ebony Slaughter-Johnson
Ebony Slaughter-Johnson is an associate fellow at the Institute for Policy Studies who covers history, race, and the criminalization of poverty.
During a speech to a group of police officers in July, President Trump returned to one of his favorite themes of the campaign season: violence. "Please don't be too nice" to the "thugs being thrown into the back of a paddy wagon," Trump advised the officers. Be "rough."
The president's endorsement of police brutality was met with applause from the officers and shock from activists and pundits alike.
Sensing the brewing backlash, the White House insisted that the president was simply making a joke. Even Attorney General Jeff Sessions, the country's top law enforcement official -- a man with his own complicated history of encouraging the worst impulses of the police -- attempted to distance himself from the controversy.
Yet the president just proved that when it comes to endorsing police brutality, especially against communities of color, he's dead serious.
For more than 20 years, Sheriff Joe Arpaio of Maricopa County, Arizona terrorized Latino communities, harassed immigrants, and made life a living hell for prisoners in his care in order to build a reputation as "America's toughest sheriff".
These systematic violations of human and constitutional rights eventually landed Arpaio in legal trouble of his own. Then President Trump pardoned him.
Arpaio had been awaiting sentencing for a July conviction of criminal contempt.
Back in 2011, a federal judge ordered Arpaio to stop targeting and detaining Latinos just to inquire about their immigration status. Nevertheless, Arpaio persisted for another 18 months, insisting that his racial profiling was lawful. He emasculated inmates, forcing them to wear pink underwear, and attempted to starve them with food that was called inedible.
He tortured them, too: Beginning in the 1990s, Arpaio opened Tent City Jail, which forced inmates to live outside in the extreme Arizona heat. An untold number of inmates died.
To the law, Arpaio is a convicted criminal who built his career on denying the constitutional and human rights of the most vulnerable among us. To Trump, he's "a patriot" who kept "Arizona safe."
"Throughout his time as sheriff," a White House statement bleated, "Arpaio continued his life's work of protecting the public from the scourges of crime and illegal immigration." In other words, the innocent immigrants who were harassed, and the prisoners who were tortured, were the real criminals.
Trump promised to be the "law and order candidate" during his campaign. He codified this promise once he became president in the "Standing Up For Our Law Enforcement Community" section of the White House website. "The Trump administration will be a law and order administration," it echoed.
For the president, it seems, "standing up" for law enforcement includes allowing officers to subvert the rule of law to commit acts of brutality with impunity. Empowering law enforcement to "keep our streets free of crime and violence" means supporting racial profiling. And "law and order" only applies to some, namely those that support the president.
With Trump's pardon of Arpaio, a message has been sent: When it comes to police brutality of the kind Arpaio perpetuated for decades, the Trump administration won't simply be complicit in it. It will promote it.
And that's nothing to joke about.
Ebony Slaughter-Johnson
Ebony Slaughter-Johnson is an associate fellow at the Institute for Policy Studies who covers history, race, and the criminalization of poverty.
During a speech to a group of police officers in July, President Trump returned to one of his favorite themes of the campaign season: violence. "Please don't be too nice" to the "thugs being thrown into the back of a paddy wagon," Trump advised the officers. Be "rough."
The president's endorsement of police brutality was met with applause from the officers and shock from activists and pundits alike.
Sensing the brewing backlash, the White House insisted that the president was simply making a joke. Even Attorney General Jeff Sessions, the country's top law enforcement official -- a man with his own complicated history of encouraging the worst impulses of the police -- attempted to distance himself from the controversy.
Yet the president just proved that when it comes to endorsing police brutality, especially against communities of color, he's dead serious.
For more than 20 years, Sheriff Joe Arpaio of Maricopa County, Arizona terrorized Latino communities, harassed immigrants, and made life a living hell for prisoners in his care in order to build a reputation as "America's toughest sheriff".
These systematic violations of human and constitutional rights eventually landed Arpaio in legal trouble of his own. Then President Trump pardoned him.
Arpaio had been awaiting sentencing for a July conviction of criminal contempt.
Back in 2011, a federal judge ordered Arpaio to stop targeting and detaining Latinos just to inquire about their immigration status. Nevertheless, Arpaio persisted for another 18 months, insisting that his racial profiling was lawful. He emasculated inmates, forcing them to wear pink underwear, and attempted to starve them with food that was called inedible.
He tortured them, too: Beginning in the 1990s, Arpaio opened Tent City Jail, which forced inmates to live outside in the extreme Arizona heat. An untold number of inmates died.
To the law, Arpaio is a convicted criminal who built his career on denying the constitutional and human rights of the most vulnerable among us. To Trump, he's "a patriot" who kept "Arizona safe."
"Throughout his time as sheriff," a White House statement bleated, "Arpaio continued his life's work of protecting the public from the scourges of crime and illegal immigration." In other words, the innocent immigrants who were harassed, and the prisoners who were tortured, were the real criminals.
Trump promised to be the "law and order candidate" during his campaign. He codified this promise once he became president in the "Standing Up For Our Law Enforcement Community" section of the White House website. "The Trump administration will be a law and order administration," it echoed.
For the president, it seems, "standing up" for law enforcement includes allowing officers to subvert the rule of law to commit acts of brutality with impunity. Empowering law enforcement to "keep our streets free of crime and violence" means supporting racial profiling. And "law and order" only applies to some, namely those that support the president.
With Trump's pardon of Arpaio, a message has been sent: When it comes to police brutality of the kind Arpaio perpetuated for decades, the Trump administration won't simply be complicit in it. It will promote it.
And that's nothing to joke about.
We've had enough. The 1% own and operate the corporate media. They are doing everything they can to defend the status quo, squash dissent and protect the wealthy and the powerful. The Common Dreams media model is different. We cover the news that matters to the 99%. Our mission? To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. How? Nonprofit. Independent. Reader-supported. Free to read. Free to republish. Free to share. With no advertising. No paywalls. No selling of your data. Thousands of small donations fund our newsroom and allow us to continue publishing. Can you chip in? We can't do it without you. Thank you.