The Lethal Consequences for Women of Trump’s Suspending Foreign Aid

Waist up portrait of young African American doctor consulting female patient using digital tablet in clinic setting

Yesterday, in a 6-3 vote, liberal members of the court dissenting, the US Supreme Court granted an emergency stay of a lower court decision mandating that the Trump administration disburse the $4 billion dollars in foreign aid approved by Congress.

While the Court’s decision isn’t a final one, the funds must be spent before the end of the fiscal year, endangering their being ever dispensed.

The Court’s decision violates the right of Congress to legislate the nation’s purse, as granted by the Constitution.

The consequences from the holdup are lethal, especially for women in developing nations.

In Uganda, 88 teachers have been dismissed and thousands of students have dropped out, the majority of them girls. In Uganda, only a quarter of remaining students are females.

Early sell off of daughters as young as thirteen is increasingly common, as families seek to buttress income through dowries, consequent with the government’s reduction in food subsidies.

As is, numerous African women have been raped by warring militants, especially in South Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Rape victims face social stigma and diminished prospects of marriage. The
administration’s policies only add to their plight.

Let me tell you what’s happened in Lesotho, whose primary industry is textiles, its workforce 80% female. Due to Trump’s tariffs and a decrease in aid, orders have dried-up, resulting in mass layoffs.

Across Africa, reduced employment impacts health, imperiling the progress made against AIDS/STD. Most health care workers are women. It used to be that women could access an HIV test, averaging 12 cents a test. With suspension of aid, that option has virtually disappeared.

Pap smears are now largely unavailable; the fallout, cervical cancer rivals maternal mortality.

African children, many of them already undernourished, stunted in growth and suffering mental retardation, face the bleakest of futures.

Some women may resort to transactional sex as means to economic survival, increasing health risk.

With the pervasive suspension of birth control assistance, women lose the ability to limit family size. The average family size in Africa is 4.5. Still more in the Sahel. By the century’s turn, Nigeria alone will have a projected 750 million population.

Poverty is an enemy of the social fabric, contributing to domestic violence.

Poverty contributes to crime, much of it food theft.

Poverty increases migration pressures and with dislocation, still more violence, as is occurring in South Africa, migrants resented as competitors.

Menaced by climate warming, which Trump calls a hoax, Africans are confronted with daily survival made worse by prolonged droughts and tropical diseases.

Trump, however, dismisses developing nations as “shithole countries,” his racism creating a vast milieu of unprecedented suffering.

I’ve largely centered on Africa, but its experience is reenacted in other developing countries as well.

Women, tragically, are Trump’s primary victims.

rj

Music’s Intelligentsia: Great Music. Great Minds

If there’s an area of life I’ve neglected, it’s music. Music, like reading, exercising, learning new skills, nurturing friendships, takes time.

It isn’t that I don’t have time. It’s more that I often squander it, unheeding Thoreau’s maxim, “Time is the stream I go fishing in.”

It wasn’t always this way. When I was young, I took a transistor radio nightly to bed, solaced by music into deep slumber.

Like my daily quest to learn Italian, I want to be more fluent in music’s idiom. I still don’t know how to listen to classical music with understanding.

I’ve been told Brahms helps you relax, sleep better. I need him for when I awake to night’s stillness, the indifferent stars, my mind ablaze with anxious thoughts.

Jazz, with its pulsating, sensual immediacy, its impromptu genius, I like, but don’t listen to enough.

The same with the vast tapestries of other music.

I can’t sum up what I’ve lost through my disconnect.

Musicians themselves can be great company, fellow pilgrims in life’s journey.

Until today, I hadn’t known that the eclectic David Bowie kept a list of his 100 favorite books. I’ve gone over that list. Oh, my god! These books, none of them airport reads, should be on everyone’s lists. They’re now on mine.

There are others like him, musical geniuses who have wrestled with life’s vagaries, the meaning of it all, how to live it fully, its sorrows and its griefs.

There’s Patti Smith, Rimbaud and Baudelaire enthusiast, Gifford Series lecturer at Yale, recipient of France’s Legion d’Honneur.

Joni Mitchell, lover of Yeats, Rilke, and the modernists poets.

Sting, who studied English literature, devotee of Shakespeare, philosophy and political theory.

Bob Dylan, Nobel Prize for Literature.

Maggie Rogers, a new voice for me, her sultry songs guaranteed to shake your hips to their beat. Rogers took time out to learn life’s purpose, enrolling at Harvard Divinity School, earning her master’s. Like Bowie, she keeps a booklist, owns a first edition of Virginia Woolf’s To a Lighthouse—“The best thing I own.”

So many others: Cohen, Morrissey, Mingus, Baez. Others still.

Why should I be surprised? Musicians are artists engaging life; their music, poetry.

Like the psalmist’s harp, it touches the Soul.

rj

Ernest and Eloquent: Kimmel Returns

By any measure, Jimmy Kimmel’s opening monologue last night following several days of suspension from America’s TV screens, gracious and moving, reconciliatory and earnest, may well represent a turning point in returning our nation back to sanity and preserving what distinguishes America from other countries.

We have a constitution, though not always adhered to, that remains the touchstone of our nation, latent with promise of “liberty and justice for all.”

Our Founding Fathers got it right with the Constitution, knowing firsthand the myriad dangers imposed by despotic government, leading to a violent seven year war of confrontation.

Credit them with foresight to intuit the latent dangers of the new nation lapsing into the old tyrannies, designing a Constitution of checks and balances, supplemented by the Bill of Rights that includes the First Amendment, America’s warranty of the citizenry’s right to to be heard.

Kimmel exercised that warranty last night, and we should all be grateful. I had begun to worry we might never see an election in 2028. Kimmel gives me hope.

Engraved on America’s Liberty Bell are these words: “Proclaim Liberty thro’ all the Land to all the Inhabitants thereof.”

Again, Jimmy, our abundant thanks.

rj

Morning’s Bliss: On Keeping the Mind Young

I love the early mornings, when the world holds its breath and my mind wakes like a small flame, flickering with new thoughts, questions, fragments of ideas, waiting their harvesting; when the day pulses with possibility.

I’ve been reading Virginia Woolf’s Diary. I like her thoughts on keeping her mind young:

“Began reading Freud last night; to enlarge the circumference: to give my brain a wider scope: to make it objective; to get outside. Thus defeat the shrinkage of age. Always take on new things. Break the rhythm, etc.” (Diary, 1939).

Similarly, I want to emulate Dr. Gladys McGarey’s wise counsel, expressed in her remarkable book, The Well-Lived Life. Regarded as the mother of holistic medicine, she was 103 when she published it.

“You have to feel and know life is there to be lived. You have to live it. As you pay attention to life itself, life is like a seed. It has a shell around it. It has all the energy of the universe within it,” she says.

It’s thus with expectation I relish my morning rush—the gift of a new day to crack life’s shell and nourish its core.

rj

Thoughts After Reading Virginia Woolf’s Diary

I’m almost done reading Virginia’s Woolf’s Diary, 1918-1941. She means much to me ever since Howard Harper, a Woolf authority at UNC, introduced her to me.

Such a scintillating intellect. Writing didn’t come easily to her, frequented with anxiety, sensitivity to criticism, writer’s block, and bouts of depression. Without husband Leonard, I doubt she’d have pulled off her prodigious achievement.

The Diary serves largely as her workbook of creative struggle—getting things right, the interplay of new formulations, the unleashing of her interiority.

The Diary catalogues books she’s reading and plans to read. It teems with recall of literary and artist luminaries she knew intimately, many associated with the Bloomsbury Group to which she belonged—Strachey, Forster, Keynes, and her sister Vanessa Bell among them. Henry James, George Meredith and T. S. Eliot were frequent household guests.

She’s opinionated about several of her rivals, Joyce for instance. She adored Proust: “My great adventure is really Proust. Well—what remains to be written after that? You can’t go further than that.” And, of course, there were Shakespeare, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and not least, Dante, to whom she turned often.

She read Homer, Plato, Aristotle, Sophocles, and Euripides in the original Greek and continued so throughout her life. I have her essay, “On Not Knowing Greek.”

Woolf spoke French fluently and read Proust, Gide, Flaubert and Maupassant in French. I hadn’t known until reading the Diary that she read Dante’s The Divine Comedy in Italian.

Largely self-educated apart from courses in the classics taken at the Women’s Department of King’s College (Women were excluded from Oxford and Cambridge), her intellectual achievements are extraordinary.

I introduced my students in Modern Novel to her “A Room of Their Own,” a feminist classic elaborating the interiority of female consciousness and exposing the barriers silencing women’s voices. And then, there was Mrs. Dalloway and To a Light House, now canon staples of English literature.

Nonetheless, in reading the Diary I found myriad passages that grieve me. She could be elitist, contemptuous of the working class; condescending towards blacks; antisemitic: “I do not like the Jewish voice: I do not like the Jewish laugh”; she felt uncomfortable in the company of the disabled.

In many ways, her views were not atypical of the mindset of the snobbish British upper class in the days of Empire.

Despite these faults, I try always to separate the artistry from the life; otherwise, there would be few artists to pursue, given the human proclivity to misbehave.

And so, over the years, I keep coming back to Woolf—her ability to recreate the inner life, to make universal the world of the quotidian; the beauty of her lyrical prose, her experimentations with narrative, her wrestlings with life’s frequent inequities.

Should I Leave? Confronting Social Media

It’s with risk one voices an opinion on media these days, especially with FB, X, and Tik Tok swarming with heated blurbs hurled at those whose opinions run contrary to their own.

I’ve toyed, like my daughter, with abandoning FB, not only for its myriad inflammatory posts, but for its subjecting me to an onslaught of advertising memes. I don’t like being tracked.

I continue with FB only because of friendships made over the years. I don’t want them severed.

Not least, I hold memberships in several groups that have greatly helped me in their counsel and sharing of interests.

But the temptation to slam the door on media, nevertheless, remains strong. I think the Internet, in general, can be an unsafe place, affording anonymity to the mischievous and those just plain angry with life.

Lately, I’ve discovered that AI itself, sometimes useful to retrieve detailed info, can be programmed with bias, not only for what it yields, but for what it omits.

But back to media, I appreciated Sam Harris’ recent Substack piece, “We are Losing the Information War with Ourselves.” I’ve always admired his level-headed, spot-on appraisals of our human dilemmas, and suggesting their best remedies.

Space confines my commentary, but Harris rightly observes that “There is no party of murder’ in this country. And insisting that there is just adds energy to yet another moral panic. Social media amplifies extreme views as though they were representative of most Americans, and many of us are losing our sense of what other people are really like. Many seem completely unaware that their hold on reality is being steadily undermined by what they are seeing online, and that the business models of these platforms, as well as livelihoods of countless “influencers,” depend on our continuing to gaze, and howl, into the digital abyss.”

His counsel is to follow his lead:

“Get off social media.
Read good books and real journalism.
Find your friends.
And enjoy your life.”

For Dee Dee and me, not only the above, but evening baseball with our beloved Red Sox, even though they often break our hearts.

Point is, life is short. Make it fun!

RJ

On the Other Hand: Reminiscence of Charlie Kirk

We’ve been hearing a great deal about Charlie Kirk in the aftermath of his assassination, much of it pejorative in public media—and in some cases, disturbingly celebratory—even from a few of my own friends on Facebook.

Whatever one’s politics, Kirk consistently embraced conversation across divides, something rare in today’s climate of weaponized rhetoric on both right and left—rhetoric that too often spills over into violence.

I’m reminded of my own university experience decades ago at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, when state police were brought in after radicals seized several buildings. Over lunch one day, a friend who later became a professor at UC Davis told me bluntly, “blood was needed to prevail.”

Kirk, however controversial his views, waded into the near-universal tide of leftist polemic across university campuses. He did so not with violence but with debate—introducing new lanes of conversation and allowing dissident voices to be heard.

Journalist and bestselling author Michael Easter (The Comfort Crisis), himself a staunch liberal, shared this reflection on his encounter with Kirk:

A years ago, I got a message from Charlie Kirk. He wanted me to come on his podcast.

All I knew about him then was that he was a right-wing political commentator.

I don’t publicly discuss politics because my books cover health and the human experience, which is universal. So I asked my publicist—who is extremely progressive—if I should go on.

“Do it,” she said. “If politics comes up, steer it back to health.”

Charlie didn’t ask me a single political question. He was exceptionally kind and genuinely curious about my work. He had a better reading of my book than nearly any other interviewer, and he drew out faith-based parallels I’d never considered. That actually deepened my own understanding of my work. He mentioned my book far more than he had to.

I’ve been on big podcasts with meditation and self-help gurus who weren’t a fraction as present, kind, and curious as Charlie Kirk.

Our conversation changed how I see public figures. The 20-second clips and 280-character hot takes we see in our media ecosystem don’t capture the full breadth, depth, and humanity of a person. I now have no hesitations talking to anyone.

I respect Charlie as a curious thinker and fellow human. I respect his devotion to his faith and family. His willingness to talk with anyone was inspiring, unique, and beneficial. I’m sad he’s gone (Substack, September 13, 2025).

Easter’s words remind me of John Stuart Mill’s enduring warning against censorship:

The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is that it is robbing the human race; if the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth; and if wrong, they lose what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error (On Liberty).

rj

 

 

A Heinous Crime That Could Have Been Prevented

It had been the end of a long day when 23 year old Ukrainian refugee Iryna Zartuska boarded Charlotte’s Lynx Blue Line train at 9:46 on August 22, 2025.

Also boarding the train, but evading paying for his ticket, was Decarlos Brown, Jr., a homeless man with fourteen run-ins with the police, awaiting trial for a new offense.

In four minutes, Iryna, who had fled the violence of the Ukraine conflict for a better life in America, would be dead, stabbed three times in the neck while looking at her cellphone by Brown, who sat behind her.

She died almost instantly.

Still wielding a bloody pocket knife, Brown was heard repeatedly shouting, “I got that white girl.”

Video captured the killing.

Brown, 34, has been charged with first degree murder.

In 2014, he was sentenced to prison for armed robbery and released in September, 2020.

In February, 2021, he was arrested for assaulting his sister, leaving her with minor injuries.

A few weeks later, he was arrested for injury to private property and trespassing.

In July 2022, he was arrested for a domestic disturbance.

Shortly after, he was arrested for injury to personal property and trespassing.

Brown’s criminal history is lengthy, reaching back to when he was a minor.

He has a documented history of mental illness. After the armed robbery, his aggressiveness intensified, resulting in his mother having him committed under court order for psychiatric observation—the diagnosis: schizophrenia.

Following his release, his aggressiveness increased still further and his mother ordered him to leave the household.

A few weeks before murdering Zarutzka, police detained Brown for misusing 911.

Despite all of this, he remained free to walk Charlotte’s streets.

Subsequently, Magistrate Teresa Stokes allowed him freedom from incarceration in exchange for his written promise to show up for a later hearing.

In a July 22 continuance hearing on Brown’s 911 misuse, judge Roy Wiggins ordered a forensic evaluation.

Unfortunately, he did not detain Brown in the meantime, a mistake with lethal consequence four weeks later.

As for the evaluation, it never happened.

In the aftermath, some on the Left argued that Brown was as much a victim of a system that failed as was Iryna. In turn, they initiated a GoFundMe account that raised $75,000 dollars to defray his legal expenses as part of the “fight against the racism and bias against our people.”

GoFundMe pulled the account.

Iryna’s murder became politicized, Trump labeling Brown a “lunatic.” Democrats, in turn, accused Trump of exploiting the tragedy for political gain.

Otherwise, Democrats have been largely silent about the murder.

In fairness, North Carolina governor Josh Stein (D) did speak out, denouncing the crime as senseless and calling for a greater police presence.

For many Democrats, however, the story didn’t fit their narrative.

Charlotte mayor Vi Lyles commented that the Charlotte transportation was safe, “by and large,” despite a recent survey reporting just 37% of Charlotte residents consider the Charlotte Area Transit System safe.

It can be argued that Progressives share responsibility for people like Brown being on the streets, abetted by black leadership and liberal media frequently engaging in racial framing that rationalizes black criminality as the offspring of white racism.

Many on the right fault Progressive advocacy of cashless bail, reduced incarceration, expunging felony records; and last, but not least, defunding the police, constitute a litany of liberal efforts more focused on criminals than the law-abiding.

Apart from the Washington Post, liberal news media, by and large, did not report the murder, consequently censoring the public’s right to know through omission, a noticeable detour from its intense coverage of the subway death of Jordan Neely by Daniel Perry, a white man.

Among media not reporting the story,

The New York Times
CNN
NPR
USA Today
Reuters
Axios
ABC News
PBS
MSNBC

(CNN did finally reference the crime, but only after the video’s release on September 5, devoting a two minute blurb to the story in its morning show).

Even Wikipedia has been caught up in the frey, one of its editors calling for the deletion of the posting titled “Killing of Iryna Zarutska.” A box message, later deleted, appeared above the post: “An editor has nominated this article for deletion.”

Wikipedia co-founder Larry Sander believes Wikipedia is now “too left” and “unreliable” (Manhattan Institute).

Brown, obviously mentally ill, should have been removed from the streets long ago in the interest of public safety.


The Brown case is not unprecedented when it comes to the American justice system’s failing the mentally ill, many of them homeless.

As Charlotte council member Edwin Peacock put it,
“If you’re constantly arresting people and they keep coming back out on the streets, what type of message is that sending?”

In 2020, former Democrat governor Roy Cooper, now running for the senate, established the “Task Force for Racial Equity in Criminal Justice,” co-chaired by then Attorney General and current Governor Josh Stein. It recommended “reimagining public safety” to “promote diversion and other alternatives to arrest,” “deemphasize” some felony crimes, prioritize “restorative justice,” and “eliminate cash bail” for many crimes (The Department of Justice (September 9, 2025).

In 2020, Charlotte Mecklenburg Police Chief Johnny Jennings declared  “law enforcement, in general, is based on racism” and their department can “probably slow down” on “discretionary arrests.”

In 2020, Democrat State Senator Mujtaba Mohammed, who represents Charlotte,  declared “independence from rogue police” (DOJ, September 9, 2025).

As I write, the Department of Justice has announced Brown will face federal charges, making him eligible for the death penalty. In a statement, Attorney General Pam Bondi depicted Iryna Zarutska “as a young woman living the American dream. Her horrific murder is a direct result of failed soft-on-crime policies that put criminals before innocent people.”

Ironically, the media is now weighing in. Where have they been? Is it the White House intervention and possibility of the death penalty that motivates this sudden rush to reporting in?

News comes that Paramount has now appointed an ombudsman to review bias at CBS news.

As for our courts, my thoughts drift to the late, gifted satirist Tom Wolfe of “Radical Chic” fame. His acclaimed Bonfire of the Vanities (1987) got it right—America’s highly politicized, often incompetent judicial system, is a sham.

rj

Sorry Emerson: Money is NOT the Prose of Life

Ralph Waldo Emerson ranks high on any list of frequently quoted American sages. He has a special way of rendering human experience palpable.

Among his many essays, I’ve especially liked “Compensation,” which I first read as a young graduate student in an American Lit class.

Undoubtedly a residue of his exploration of Eastern thought, this essay has journeyed a lifetime with me in its karma undertones, buoying me up in its harbinger of moral recompense for life’s myriad inequities.

But on occasion, Emerson fumbled, as when he wrote that “money represents the prose of life, and which is hardly spoken of in parlors without an apology, is, in its effects and laws, as beautiful as roses” (“Nominalist and Realist,” Essays: Second Series, 1844).

Critics were quick to pounce, Marxists in particular seeing it as capitulating to capitalism. Emerson probably meant that the pecuniary is an integral component of the natural order.

Still, it seems a passage one wants to expunge like disturbing phlegm.

I like Saul Bellow’s correction: “Uch! How they love money, thought Wilhelm. They adore money! Holy money! Beautiful money! It was getting so that people were feeble-minded about everything except money. While if you didn’t have it you were a dummy, a dummy! You had to excuse yourself from the face of the earth!” (“Seize the Day”).

But let me also share psychologist and poet Pamela Joyce Shapiro’s response to Emerson’s remark. Her poem speaks for me and perhaps for you:

If money is the prose of life
as beautiful as roses,
poetry it seems must be
the soil and sun of infinity,
without which surely nothing grows.
I see the pleasures each might bring,
when flourishing in abundant spring.
Though stocks and petals tend to fall
in drought or storm or just because,
poetry survives it all.
What losses can define what loss is?
Waning wealth or stolen roses?
Forget the till and till the mind,
plant poetry and praise the sky.

rj

 





Why I’m Still Reading Yeats

I’ve always been a devotee of the poetry of William Butler Yeats, though not of his metaphysics or his politics. Certainly, his reception in Ireland over the years has been bleak, the latest hostile critic, contemporary novelist Sally Rooney piling on, dismissing his politics as fascist, with the takeaway he isn’t worth reading.

Though he flirted with authoritarianism, agitated by the chaos he associated with democracy, he supported the Free State and later repudiated Mussolini, whom he initially admired. He was never the likes of Ezra Pound. In one of his final poems, “Politics,” he expresses his disillusionment with political ideologies proffering easy remedies for society’s ills.

Yeats should not be judged removed from the convulsions that gave birth to an Ireland free of its English masters.

Ireland’s ostracizing of its literary giants has a long history, not only with Yeats, but James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Frank O’Connor, Sean O’Faoláin, and the late Edna O’Brien, all of whom chose exile.

I bristle against censorship and book banning to which it often leads. Things are changing in Ireland, a nation I know well, but old attitudes can find an audience still.

Yeats remains worth reading, his poetry arguing for itself in its craftsmanship, beauty, and relevance. His often quoted “The Second Coming” hovers over us in its prescient warning of autocracy’s sinister reach.

“A Prayer for My Daughter” remains among my favorite Yeats poems—subdued in tone, subtle in rhythm, redolent in wisdom.

Written in 1919 in the context of Ireland’s incipient nationalism that would spark a civil war and the country’s ultimate partition, the poem expresses Yeats’ hopes for his new daughter in a less turbulent future.

A poem abundant in symbolism, Yeats prays she shun hatreds, value inner over external beauty, find solace in tradition and ceremony.

I value the poem, not least, for its relevance to our own time.

Excerpt:

May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound,
Nor but in merriment begin a chase,
Nor but in merriment a quarrel.
O may she live like some green laurel
Rooted in one dear perpetual place.

My mind, because the minds that I have loved,
The sort of beauty that I have approved,
Prosper but little, has dried up of late,
Yet knows that to be choked with hate
May well be of all evil chances chief.
If there’s no hatred in a mind
Assault and battery of the wind
Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.

An intellectual hatred is the worst,
So let her think opinions are accursed.
Have I not seen the loveliest woman born
Out of the mouth of Plenty’s horn,
Because of her opinionated mind
Barter that horn and every good
By quiet natures understood
For an old bellows full of angry wind?

This last stanza obviously alludes to Maude Gonne, who had become a strident voice of Irish nationalism and to whom Yeats had twice proposed marriage, but was rejected.

In 1990, I was privileged to meet and converse with Anne, the daughter in this poem.

Whatever our views on artists such as Yeats, or antisemite T.S. Eliot, or Chilean fervent communist Pablo Neruda, I subscribe to the autonomy of art. It’s narcissistic to think artists must share our views.

rj