The stars are still in reach for astronomers who want to build a $1.4 billion telescope on top of Hawaii’s Mauna Kea.
A year and a half after the Hawaiian Supreme Court revoked the telescope’s building permit,
saying that the state Board of Land and Natural Resources had cut
corners in the application process, a judge recommended on Wednesday
that the board issue a new permit.
The
telescope’s opponents, a coalition of native Hawaiians and
environmentalists, say that the proliferation of observatories on Mauna
Kea has despoiled a sacred mountain and interfered with native Hawaiian cultural practices that are protected by state law.
The
judge’s recommendation included the condition that the telescope’s
workers and astronomers undergo “mandatory cultural and natural
resources training.”
The
telescope’s backers, a consortium that includes the University of
California, California Institute of Technology, India, China and Canada,
called the decision an important milestone, but cautioned that it was
only one in a series of bureaucratic and political hurdles to overcome.
The
Thirty Meter Telescope, as it is known, would be the largest telescope
in the Northern Hemisphere, with a primary light-gathering mirror 30
meters, or some 100 feet, in diameter.
Astronomers
say it would be able to study planets around other stars and peer into
the black-hole hearts of distant galaxies with a clarity exceeding that
of the Hubble Space Telescope.
It is one of three such behemoth telescopes
under development worldwide. But the other two, the Giant Magellan
Telescope and the European Extremely Large Telescope, are being built in
Chile and thus will not be able to survey the half of the universe
visible in the Northern sky.
Mauna Kea, Hawaii’s tallest mountain, has long been considered the best observatory site in
the Northern Hemisphere and is already home to a passel of large
telescopes. It is also a sacred place in Hawaiian culture and religion.
A
coalition of cultural activists and environmentalists has opposed the
Thirty Meter project, citing, among other things, an environmental
impact statement that concluded that 30 years of astronomy had had “an
adverse effect” on nature and native culture on the mountain.
At
18 stories high, the new telescope would be the biggest building on the
Big Island, an industrial-scale installation, opponents say, that would
violate the rules for the mountain, which is a special conservation
district.
In
2015, a groundbreaking for the telescope project was broken up by
protesters, who then blockaded the road up the mountain, preventing
equipment and construction workers from passing.
In
December of that year, the Hawaiian Supreme Court concluded that the
state board had not followed due process when it approved a building
permit before holding what is known as a contested case hearing where
opponents could have their say.
The
decision was made by retired Judge Riki May Amano, who was appointed by
the land board to rehear the case. It followed 44 days of testimony by
71 witnesses over six months in a hotel room in Hilo, Hawaii.
The
testimony ended in March with all the participants, pro and con, and
their lawyers holding hands and singing “Hawaii Aloha,” according to
Clarence Ching, a Hawaiian activist and lawyer who was there.
But
the controversy is hardly over. Next the entire Board of Land and
Natural Resources will hear arguments and decide whether to accept Judge
Amano’s decision. Whichever side wins, the decision will be immediately
appealed to the Hawaiian Supreme Court.
Even
if the telescope wins in the Supreme Court, it is unclear whether the
“guardians of the mountain,” as they called themselves, will relent and
let trucks proceed up Mauna Kea.
Gov.
David Ige has professed his support for the Thirty Meter Telescope, but
he was criticized two years ago for allowing protesters to control the
mountain.
Science Times
We’ll bring you stories that capture the wonders of the human body, nature and the cosmos.
Whatever
the land board’s decision, Governor Ige said in a statement, “I support
the coexistence of astronomy and culture on Mauna Kea along with better
management of the mountain.”
In
an interview last year, Edward Stone, a Caltech professor who is
executive director of the Thirty Meter Telescope International
Observatory, or TIO, as it is officially known, set April 2018 as the
deadline for construction to begin.
If the telescope cannot be built on Mauna Kea, he said, it will be built in the Canary Islands, off the coast of Spain.
In
a statement, Dr. Stone said, “TMT welcomes the recommendation that a
state permit be issued, and we respectfully look forward to the next
steps.”
“We
are grateful to all our supporters and friends who have been with us
during the hearing process and over the past 10 years, and we remain
respectful of the process to ensure the proper stewardship of Maunakea.”
In
a statement to The Honolulu Star-Advertiser, Kealoha Pisciotta, a
leader of the opposition to the telescope (and a former telescope
operator on Mauna Kea), said she was disappointed “but this is really
only the beginning of a very lengthy legal battle that will most likely
take us back to the State of Hawaii’s Supreme Court.”
If the accounts
are true—and, given that their accounts have changed in the past, these
latest accounts could change too—then, taken together, the Trump Jr.
emails and Kushner’s statement show a Russian side that is experimenting
with ways of getting the Trump team’s attention. They show a side that
really is, as one former Obama administration official told me, “throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what would stick.”
According to the emails
Trump Jr. released two weeks ago, some Russians who insist they were
acting in a private capacity tried approaching the campaign through Rob
Goldstone, the British tabloid journalist turned music promoter, and
through the Agalarov family, themselves builders and aspiring pop
culture icons who had forged a tie to the Trumps through the 2013 Miss Universe pageant.
Goldstone told Trump Jr. that the Agalarovs had “very high level and
sensitive information” on Hillary Clinton and that it “is part of Russia
and its government's support for Mr. Trump - helped along by Aras and
Emin [Agalarov].” They, in turn, seem to have sent Russian lawyer Natalia Veselnitskaya, who is close to Yury Chaika, the Russian prosecutor general, or, as Goldstone refers to him, “the Crown prosecutor of Russia.”
Kushner’s
statement describes his ignorance of the people involved in the June
2016 meeting in Trump Tower that resulted—he even says he asked his
assistant to make a fake phone call to him, to rescue him from a meeting
he and other participants have claimed was about adoptions. But the
statement is telling in that it outlines even more approaches, ways the
Russians seemed to be poking around for openings. There was the formal
meeting with then-Russian ambassador Sergei Kislyak at the reception for
Trump’s April 2016 foreign policy speech. Kushner says the encounter
“lasted less than a minute”—which other witnesses confirm—and that Kislyak suggested lunch at the embassy, which Kushner says he didn’t take him up on.Then
there was a more aggressive approach, an email from someone using the
name Guccifer400, who Kushner says tried to extort the Trump campaign to
the tune of 52 bitcoin for not publishing Trump’s tax return. It’s
unclear if this was a Russian attempt, or just a highway robber riffing
on Guccifer, the publisher of stolen Democratic National Committee
documents who American intelligence believe is a front for a Russian
government hacker.
After the election, Vladimir Putin reached out
directly to the Trump camp to congratulate them on their victory, and
Kislyak again asked for a meeting, which took place on December 1, 2016.
It is in this meeting, according to Kushner, that the president’s
son-in-law asked the Russian if there were “an existing communication
channel at his embassy” through which “Russian generals” could supply
the Trump transition team with information on Syria. This seems to be a
confirmation of the Post’s May story that Kislyak radioed back to Moscow, saying Kushner was looking for a back channel; both the Post story
and Kushner’s statement say such a channel was never set up, though
Kushner denied it would have constituted a “secret back channel” as the Post described it.
Indeed,
the Russians clearly thought the meeting went well, because a week
later, according to Kushner, the Russian embassy requested another
audience with the Trump team. “I declined,” Kushner wrote in his
statement of this request, as well as of the embassy probing for another
time Kushner could meet Kislyak. The third poke in this series was the
Russians requesting a meeting with Kushner’s assistant. “In order to
avoid offending the Ambassador,” Kushner writes, “I agreed.” Kislyak met
with Kushner’s assistant on December 12, 2016.Apparently,
this meeting went well, too, but was also an opportunity to find
another opening, with Kushner’s assistant reporting back that
Kislyak—who, in my personal experience, is not a shy man—wanted yet
another meeting. This time it would be with Sergey Gorkov, head of
Vneshekonombank (VEB), the Russian state development bank that was,
among other things, responsible for building up Sochi for the 2014
Winter Olympics. According to Kushner, Kislyak said Gorkov was “a banker
and someone with a direct line to the Russian President who could give
insight into how Putin was viewing the new administration and best ways
to work together.” Kushner says, “I agreed to meet Gorkov because the
Ambassador has been so insistent, said he had a direct relationship with
the president, and because Mr. Gorkov was only in New York for a couple
days.”
Gorkov is a particularly suspect figure. Before spending
the last 10 years working in key roles in Russian state banks, Gorkov
briefly lived in exile in London. He had spent a decade working for
Mikhail Khodorkovsky at his oil company Yukos, before Putin jailed
Khodorkovsky for 10 years in 2003 and dismantled the company, selling
the biggest chunks to his friend Igor Sechin. Many other Yukos
executives were jailed, including Gorkov’s subordinate, who served eight
years of a 15-year sentence; many more, like Gorkov, were forced to
flee the country to avoid a similar fate. But Gorkov somehow managed to
return both to the country and to top positions in state jobs. “How he
was able to escape prosecution in the YUKOS case is the biggest mystery
of the whole case,” one of Gorkov’s colleagues told Russian Forbes. The speculation is that he cut a deal with the Kremlin, thanks in part to his ties to the FSB (he went to the KGB academy).The
meeting between Kushner and Gorkov has drawn particular scrutiny
because VEB, Gorkov’s bank, is subject to U.S. sanctions for its role in
the Russian invasion of Ukraine. It has also been tied to espionage
before. In 2015, one of the bank’s New York employees, Evgeny Buryakov,
was arrested and charged with being a spy and gathering information for Russia’s clandestine service, or SVR. (Buryakov, who pleaded guilty in 2016 and was deported, was charged by the office of then-U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara, whom Trump fired in March.)
Kushner’s
description of the meeting is doubly strange, and, if accurate, shows
Gorkov to be a deft operator, skilled at getting his hooks into his
subject. He gave Kushner two gifts: “a piece of art from Nvogorod, the
village where my grandparents were from in Belarus,” and “a bag of dirt
from the same village.” Though Kushner’s grandparents, both Holocaust
survivors, were indeed from Belarus,
it seems Kushner may have misremembered the name of the village:
Nvogorod seems like a misspelling of Novgorod, one of two ancient cities
in Russia by that name. In either case, it seems Gorkov did his
research on Kushner—and wanted to show it. He also wanted Kushner to be
aware of his stature, bragging to him “that he was friendly with
President Putin.” (Kushner says that they didn’t discuss sanctions or
“specific policies” and did not speak again.)
Though we are still
missing big pieces of the puzzle, and though Kushner and Trump Jr. have
proven themselves to be unreliable narrators when it comes to the extent
of their involvement with the Russians, these two documents together
give us a hint of how Russians went about trying to establish a
connection with the Trumps, whom they were heavily advertising on state television
as the way to restart U.S.-Russian relations. The emails and public
statement describe a search, a process of poking and testing, of trying
to find a pressure point or an opening. This is consistent with the
intelligence on the Russians’ election-meddling effort, which has been
described as a multi-pronged and opportunistic one. “The Russians had a
line of, say, 1,000 ways to attack,” an intelligence official told me
recently. “They don’t need all of them to get through. Just a few are
enough.”
One of the health care bills under consideration
by Republican leaders would take health insurance away from 32 million
people over the next decade, creating a cohort of Americans who could be
motivated to vote against senators who approved the measure.
The Senate could vote as early as Tuesday, but
it is not yet clear which of the two bills in contention that the
majority leader, Mitch McConnell, intends to bring up. The plan that
would leave 32 million without coverage would repeal some of the most
important parts of the Affordable Care Act without any replacement.
If they pass the bill, some Republicans might
put themselves in a difficult situation because many of them won their
last election by fewer votes than the number of people whowould lose health coverage
in their state under the proposed legislation. The comparison shows the
scale of the problem some Republicans might face in close races in 2018
and 2020.
Margin of victory
in last election
Newly uninsured
by 2019
Republican senators
Up for re-election in 2018
or in 2020
0
500,000
1 million
1.5 million
2.0 million
2.5 million
Marco Rubio
FLA.
Ted Cruz
TEX.
John Cornyn
TEX.
Thom Tillis
N.C.
Patrick J. Toomey
Pa.
David Perdue
GA.
Richard M. Burr
N.C.
Jeff Flake
ARIZ.
Cory Gardner
Colo.
Johnny Isakson
GA.
Roy Blunt
MO.
Bill Cassidy
LA.
John McCain
ARIZ.
John Kennedy
LA.
Dean Heller
NEV.
Ron Johnson
WIS.
Todd Young
IND.
Mitch McConnell
Ky.
Tom Cotton
ARK.
Rand Paul
Ky.
Lindsey Graham
S.C.
Joni Ernst
IOWA
Pat Roberts
KAN.
Lamar Alexander
TENN.
John Boozman
ARK.
Thad Cochran
MISS.
Steve Daines
MONT.
Shelley Moore Capito
W.VA.
Dan Sullivan
ALASKA
Jim Risch
IDAHO
Deb Fischer
NEB.
Roger Wicker
MISS.
Mike Rounds
S.D.
Lisa Murkowski
ALASKA
Note: Excludes senators where the margin of victory is greater than the number of uninsured.
Of course, not everyone who faces a tougher
insurance market will be swayed to vote against incumbent Republican
senators who backed the bill, if only because voters won’t see the
effects immediately. Under the repeal without replacement bill,
Obamacare’s expanded Medicaid coverage would end in 2020, after the 2018
midterm election. Under the other Senate bill under consideration, the
Better Care Reconciliation Act, big cuts to Medicaid would start in
2021, the year after the next presidential election.
Still, many voters might be worried about the
prospect of losing coverage, or entering an insurance market that no
longer has the protections of the Affordable Care Act, as they cast
their votes next year and in 2020.
Republican Senators Most at Risk
Marco Rubio
Ted Cruz
John Cornyn
Thom Tillis
Patrick J. Toomey
David Perdue
Florida
TEXAS
TEXAS
North Carolina
PENNSYLVANIA
GEORGIA
Difference between margin of victory and number uninsured
1,516,897
1,304,790
1,285,856
979,392
869,310
808,723
Among Republican senators, 31 are running for re-election in 2018 and 2020.
Of those, 22 are running in races where the
number of uninsured under the repeal without replacement bill would be
greater than the margin of victory in their last election, a sign that
voters affected by the Republican health plan could possibly sway the
outcome against them.
Low Turnout May Help Republicans
Many Republicans who are up for re-election and
support the repeal bill are surely counting on people upset about this
legislation to not show up to vote, or to vote for them regardless.
That might be a reasonable political calculation
because low-income Americans, who would be among the most hurt by the
destruction of the A.C.A., tend to vote at lower rates than more affluent families.
But Republican senators ought to remember that older Americans, for whom this bill would also have devastating effects, tend to vote at higher rates
than younger people. In the last presidential election, many of these
voters broke for Donald Trump, but they might be less inclined to back
Republican candidates once this bill becomes law.
Nearly two-thirds of Americans are opposed to
such drastic cuts, including the vast majority of Democrats and a solid
majority of independents, according to a Kaiser Family Foundation poll.
But about 54 percent of Republican voters support big cuts to the
program, which may help explain why some lawmakers from the party are
ambivalent about or hostile toward the program.
In addition, the deep Medicaid cuts in the Senate bill would have a disproportionate impact on older people. That’s because 64 percent of people in nursing homes rely on the program, including many middle-class people who have depleted their savings.
RIVERSIDE, Calif. — Just after dawn, a line of
officers marched to the gate outside Fidel Delgado’s home here with guns
drawn, one holding a rifle. Mr. Delgado emerged barechested from his
home and with a look of confusion.
About 20 minutes later and 10 miles away,
Anselmo Morán Lucero sensed exactly why officers had come. He spotted
them as he was returning from a night out, and turned his truck around.
But an unmarked S.U.V. pulled in front of him and another flashed its
lights behind him, blocking his escape.
They asked his name. They asked if he knew why he was being arrested. Mr. Lucero nodded.
Every day around the United States, from before
sunrise until late into the night, people like Mr. Delgado and Mr.
Lucero are being picked up by Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers, the front-line soldiers in President Trump’s crackdown on illegal immigration.
More than 65,000 people have been arrested by
the agency since President Trump took office, a nearly 40 percent
increase over the same period last year and as sure a sign as any that
the United States is a tougher place today to be an undocumented
immigrant.
But I.C.E. is in some ways operating in enemy
territory in California, home to more than two million undocumented
immigrants and hostile to the idea of mass deportations. Because local
law enforcement often will not turn over undocumented immigrants in
their custody, I.C.E. must make most of their arrests at homes, at
workplaces and out on the street, which is more complicated than simply
picking people up from jails — and potentially more dangerous.
So when a team of immigration agents gathered
at 4:30 on one already warm morning in June, their chief, David Marin,
warned them to stay away from any sign of danger.
After going over notes on each of the men they
were after, the team pulled off in their unmarked S.U.V.s. Eight hours
later, five men would be in custody, awaiting the start of deportation
proceedings.
The New York Times followed the team for a day
as it navigated the streets and politics of Southern California, and
spoke with some of the men they arrested and the families they may soon
be leaving behind.
An Unplanned Arrest
As the sun crept above the horizon, the
officers gathered on a hill just a few yards away from Mr. Delgado’s
home. But it was not Mr. Delgado they had come for; it was his son
Mariano.
Mariano Delgado, 24, had returned to Mexico in
2011 after he was convicted of drunken driving. Since illegally
re-entering the United States, he has been arrested four times for
assault with a deadly weapon.
Immigrants like him are called “criminal
aliens,” and there are so many of them in Southern California that Mr.
Marin says it is effectively impossible to go after anyone else. But
under President Trump, agents are encouraged to also arrest undocumented
immigrants without serious criminal records, a break from the Obama
administration’s policy of mostly leaving those immigrants alone.
So here and across the country, agents now make
more “collateral” arrests — undocumented people they come across while
looking for someone else. That was about to happen.
When officers, guns out, approached the
chain-link fence surrounding the home, the dogs began barking loudly,
joining the squawking chickens. Fidel Delgado emerged.
The elder Mr. Delgado, 46, and his wife, MarÃa
Rocha, told the officers that their son had moved to Texas months ago.
They readily admitted to being in the country illegally, but added that
they work. Their youngest son, 16, is an American-born citizen. When the
agents shook him out of bed, he began to sob.
After taking Fidel Delgado’s fingerprints, they
ran them through a database. Within minutes, they learned that he had
once crossed the border illegally, twice in the same day, and had been
sent back to Mexico.
A couple of officers debated what to do: Should
they take both parents and call Child Protective Services for the boy?
Did they believe that Mariano Delgado was no longer living there, even
though they thought he was home as recently as the week before?
“If he doesn’t give up the son, we’re going to take him,” one officer said.
They left the wife behind and led Mr. Delgado to a van, where he was soon shackled. The handcuffs would leave marks.
Later that morning, Ms. Rocha, 50, leaned against the chain-link fence that surrounds their home, bleary-eyed and in shock.
“My husband, they had no reason to take him,” she said. “They weren’t searching for him.”
The family has lived in the three-bedroom white
house in a blue-collar, semirural enclave of Riverside for three years,
paying $1,300 a month in rent. Ms. Rocha, who cleans offices in nearby
Corona, a more upscale community, said she brings home about $1,200 a
month. Her husband, who milks cows at a dairy, earns about $12 an hour.
The couple married in Mexico 24 years ago, just
before heading north. “We came here for a better life,” she said. In
all her years in the United States, she said, she had never had problems
with “la migra,” as the immigration agency is known.
By the afternoon, Mr. Delgado had been released
by immigration agents, who decided that he was not a threat to public
safety. He was given a notice that he must comply with any orders from
immigration agents and returned to work the next day.
Agency Under a Microscope
Before heading out to their targets for the
day, the I.C.E. team gathered in the darkness in the parking lot of a
small hardware store. Mr. Marin, the enforcement supervisor, quizzed his
officers:
What time will this man start to leave his
home? Which way will that one turn when he pulls out of his driveway?
When will the other one arrive back from his night shift?
The officers had been watching the men they were after for days, learning their habits so they could capture them easily.
Mr. Marin, 48, has worked in immigration
enforcement for more than two decades, starting when the agency was
called Immigration and Naturalization Services. In the 1990s, he said,
officers would spend much of their time rounding up immigrants in front
of home repair stores, routinely arresting people so many times that
they would know them by sight. Within hours of a bus ride returning them
to Mexico, Mr. Marin said, they would be on their way to the United
States again.
Like roughly half of the other officers, Mr.
Marin began his career in the military, serving as a Marine. He amassed
tattoos the way others collect shot glasses: On his left forearm is the
first letter of the word “Christian” written in Arabic, commemorating
his work collecting intelligence on the Taliban in Pakistan.
Though he had to pass a basic Spanish course
early in his career, today Mr. Marin hardly speaks a word of it. But
many officers do. Nearly 40 percent of Mr. Marin’s officers are Latino,
he said, and many of them hear refrains of “How can you do this to your
own people.” They do not apologize.
But the agency is under a microscope here.
Arrests in the Los Angeles region are up only 17 percent since Mr. Trump
took office, far less than in the rest of the country, according to
I.C.E. statistics.
Members of Congress and local officials routinely call Mr. Marin’s cellphone when they hear of arrests in their area.
“People want to know if we’ve gone into
schools, if we’re standing in the market, but that’s not what we do,”
Mr. Marin said, driving before dawn. “We know an arrest is a traumatic
event for a family. We know the impact it has, and we take it very
seriously.”
Luck Runs Out
While Mr. Delgado was being questioned, other
members of the team were waiting for Mr. Lucero, who had already been
deported once.
Mr. Lucero, 51, and his wife, Jamie, 47,
arrived from a small village in the Mexican state of Puebla more than
three decades ago. He had built a thriving landscaping business, tending
to yards of homes in upscale Orange County.
In 2006, Mr. Lucero was convicted in a domestic
violence case and spent several months in jail, then was deported. But
he had reconciled with his wife and was eager to return to her and their
six children, two of them born in the United States. So he crossed the
border illegally again.
Immigration officials had tried to get the
Orange County sheriff’s office to hold Mr. Lucero for them when he was
in jail for a day on a new domestic violence charge in 2014. But the
sheriff declined, according to I.C.E. Many California sheriff and police
departments do not cooperate with immigration officials, saying it
erodes trust in law enforcement among immigrant populations. Mr. Trump
has threated to punish these so-called sanctuary cities and counties,
saying they harbor lawbreakers.
For several nights before the I.C.E. team
showed up, Mr. Lucero said, he had dreams of immigration agents coming
to get him. The night before, he and his wife tried their luck at a
nearby casino, playing the slot machines until daybreak. They had won a
couple of hundred dollars and left just before 6 a.m.
When they began driving home, Ms. Lucero’s
brother, with whom the family lives, warned them that immigration
officers were near. But Mr. Lucero was unable to evade them.
Hours after his arrest, Jamie Lucero, her eyes
red with tears, pulled out a blue folder with Mr. Lucero’s papers neatly
organized, including documents showing he had completed an
anger-management program and followed the rules of probation from his
domestic violence case. She was planning to take the folder with her
when she visited him in detention, though the papers are unlikely to
have a bearing on his new deportation case.
Their 29-year-old son, Urie, said that the week
before, four officers had come to the door holding a picture of a bald
man they said they were after. They never mentioned the man’s name, and
Urie Lucero said he did not recognize the man.
But the officers came inside the home and
looked around. The family is convinced that the visit and the picture of
the bald man were ruses to try to scope out Anselmo Lucero’s
whereabouts. “That’s how they are getting people,” Urie Lucero said.
Jamie Lucero said the officers had told her not to bother paying for a lawyer because he faced certain deportation.
By lunchtime, the agents had five immigrants in
custody: three of their six targets of the day, as well as Mr. Delgado
and another man they found in the home of a target. Typically, officers
successfully arrest about half the people they are looking for, Mr.
Marin said, so this was a good day.
“Criminals off the street, that’s our goal,” he
said while standing inside the San Bernardino processing center, where
immigrants from the region are taken each day.
The men they had arrested sat inside a small
holding cell clutching their brown-bag lunch of a turkey sandwich and
apple. Mr. Marin and one of his deputies headed for lunch at a small
Mexican taqueria.
Produced by MONA EL-NAGGAR and ANDREW ROSSBACK
Additional video production by BRENT MCDONALD, JESSEY DEARING, BEN LAFFIN and TODD SHERIDAN