October 15, 2024

Trump will stoke a gender panic

 

 

 His campaign is promising a more repressive and dangerous America.


by Spencer Kornhaber 

 After decades of gains in public acceptance, the LGBTQ community is confronting a climate in which political leaders are once again calling them weirdos and predators. Texas Governor Greg Abbott has directed the Department of Family and Protective Services to investigate the parents of transgender children; Governor Ron DeSantis has tried to purge Florida classrooms of books that acknowledge the reality that some people aren’t straight or cisgender; Missouri has imposed rules that limit access to gender-affirming care for trans people of all ages. Donald Trump is promising to nationalize such efforts. He doesn’t just want to surveil, miseducate, and repress children who are exploring their emerging identities. He wants to interfere in the private lives of millions of adults, revoking freedoms that any pluralistic society should protect.


During his 2016 campaign, Trump seemed to think that feigning sympathy for queer people was good PR. “I will do everything in my power to protect our LGBTQ citizens,” he promised. Then, while in office, he oversaw a broad rollback of LGBTQ protections, removing gender identity and sexuality from federal nondiscrimination provisions regarding health care, employment, and housing. His Defense Department restricted soldiers’ right to transition and banned trans people from enlisting; his State Department refused to issue visas to the same-sex domestic partners of diplomats. Yet when seeking reelection in 2020, Trump still made a show of throwing a Pride-themed rally.

Now, recognizing that red-state voters have been energized by anti-queer demagoguery, he’s not even pretending to be tolerant. “These people are sick; they are deranged,” Trump said during a speech, amid a rant about transgender athletes in June. When the audience cheered at his mention of “transgender insanity,” he marveled, “It’s amazing how strongly people feel about that. You see, I’m talking about cutting taxes, people go like that.” He pantomimed weak applause. “But you mention transgender, everyone goes crazy.” The rhetoric has become a fixture of his rallies.


Trump is now running on a 10-point “Plan to Protect Children From Left-Wing Gender Insanity.” Its aim is not simply to interfere with parents’ rights to shape their kids’ health and education in consultation with doctors and teachers; it’s to effectively end trans people’s existence in the eyes of the government. Trump will call on Congress to establish a national definition of gender as being strictly binary and immutable from birth. He also wants to use executive action to cease all federal “programs that promote the concept of sex and gender transition at any age.” If enacted, those measures could open the door to all sorts of administrative cruelties—making it impossible, for example, for someone to change their gender on their passport. Low-income trans adults could be blocked from using Medicaid to pay for treatment that doctors have deemed vital to their well-being.


The Biden administration reinstated many of the protections Trump had eliminated, and the judiciary has thus far curbed the most extreme aspects of the conservative anti-trans agenda. In 2020, the Supreme Court ruled that, contrary to the assertions of Trump’s Justice Department, the Civil Rights Act protects LGBTQ people from employment discrimination. 

A federal judge issued a temporary restraining order preventing the investigations that Governor Abbott had ordered in Texas. But in a second term, Trump would surely seek to appoint more judges opposed to queer causes. He would also resume his first-term efforts to promote an interpretation of religious freedom that allows for unequal treatment of minorities. In May 2019, his Housing and Urban Development Department proposed a measure that would have permitted federally funded homeless shelters to turn away transgender individuals on the basis of religious freedom. A 2023 Supreme Court decision affirming a Christian graphic designer’s refusal to work with gay couples will invite more attempts to narrow the spaces and services to which queer people are guaranteed access.


The social impact of Trump’s reelection would only further encourage such discrimination. He has long espoused old-fashioned ideas about what it means to look and act male and female. Now the leader of the Republican Party is using his platform to push the notion that people who depart from those ideas deserve punishment. As some Republicans have engaged in queer-bashing rhetoric in recent years—including the libel that queerness is pedophilia by another name—hate crimes motivated by gender identity and sexuality have risen, terrifying a population that was never able to take its safety for granted. Victims of violence have included people who were merely suspected of nonconformity, such as the 59-year-old woman in Indiana who was killed in 2023 by a neighbor who believed her to be “a man acting like a woman.”


If Trump’s stoking of gender panic proves to be a winning national strategy, everyday deviation from outmoded and rigid norms could invite scorn or worse. And children will grow up in a more repressive and dangerous America than has existed in a long time.

THE ATLANTIC

 

 

 

October 13, 2024

Gaza in Ruins After a Year of War

 

 


SEE THE MAP

Raja AbdulrahimHelmuth RosalesBilal ShbairAnjali SinghviErika SolomonIyad AbuheweilaAbu Bakr BashirAmeera HaroudaMalika KhuranaVeronica Penney and

One year ago, Gaza became a battlefield as Israel began a military offensive to root out Hamas in response to the Oct 7. Hamas-led attacks. The war has left Gaza unrecognizable. Tens of thousands of people have been killed, and almost everyone living there has been displaced — many of them multiple times.

Nearly 60 percent of buildings have been damaged or destroyed in the besieged enclave, an area about half the size of New York City. Videos and images from before and after the war started in some of the hardest hit areas — including Khan Younis, Gaza City and Jabaliya — reveal the magnitude of ruin across the strip.

Israel says its goal was to eradicate Hamas and destroy the tunnel network it built below ground. But in that attempt, it laid waste to an area that is home to some two million people.

Khan Younis

54% of buildings have been likely damaged or destroyed.

In Gaza’s south is the governorate of Khan Younis, stretching from its eponymous medieval city, where the citadel wall stands as its historic anchor, to the lush fields that families have tilled for generations.

Now, the people of Khan Younis say they feel unmoored from time and place: The square where they played, prayed and gossiped is a ghost town. The farms that once nourished them have been bulldozed and pounded by Israeli artillery.

Israel says such strikes are necessary to attack Hamas militants and weapons hidden in hospitals, mosques, schools and other civilian areas. International law experts say Israel still has a responsibility to protect civilians even if Hamas exploits them.

City Center

Within the city of Khan Younis, only one citadel wall remains of its Mamluk-era fortress, ground away by centuries and wars past. It is the city’s lodestone.

That wall has lent its name to everything from the nearby marketplace to a space locals called “Citadel Square.” Here, vendors set up stalls to hawk goods and sugary concoctions and friends gathered around hookah pipes. A young oud player nicknamed Abu Kayan came during Eid holidays to strum Palestinian folk songs.

It was a humble outing even the most impoverished Gazan could enjoy, with a view of the citadel wall and the Grand Mosque on either side.

“What made it cool was that all kinds of people met there,” said Abu Kayan, 22, whose real name is Ahmed Abu-Hasaneen. “It was a place you could feel the spirit of our ancestors. It was a place we could hold on to and preserve.”

Now, the citadel wall looks out over a wasteland of rubble.

“I don’t think this place could be rebuilt,” said Abu Kayan. “Even if it could, nothing can replace the many friends I met there who have been killed, displaced, or fled abroad.”

Towering over the other side of the square was the 96-year-old Grand Mosque — the place to go for Friday prayers and staying up late into the night with family during the Muslim holy fasting month of Ramadan.

“That mosque was like the city’s address — the symbol of Khan Younis,” said Belal Barbakh, 25, who once volunteered to clean its carpets and perfume the halls before holidays.

That address no longer exists — Israel’s military said it struck the mosque to destroy Hamas infrastructure inside it, information The Times could not independently verify.

These days, Mr. Barbakh continues that ritual of cleaning and perfuming in the small plastic tent erected as a prayer hall at the foot of the pile of rubble that is all that remains of the Grand Mosque.

Beyond the mosque was the citadel’s commercial district, where playful hearts, young and old, sought out Hamada Ice Cream and the balloon-festooned Citadel of Toys.

Sisters Asan and Elan al-Farra, 16 and 14, remember birthday parties at Hamada, and the excitement they felt when their parents let them stop there after shopping.

Passing by what is left of Hamada now, Elan said, is like watching the color drained out of her childhood: “It’s depressing seeing a place that was so bright end up black, battered, and dirty.”

Just a few meters away are the pancaked floors of the building once home to the Barbakh brothers and their families — and their Citadel of Toys.

Abdulraouf Barbakh opened the toy store on the ground floor, indulging a childhood obsession with “any and all toys.”

During Eid celebrations, he welcomed a parade of children who marched in, clutching the holiday money their relatives had given them, eager to buy a long coveted doll, ball or water gun.

“I loved to see that smile of pure joy on children’s faces, especially for a people like ours that have suffered so much,” he said.

War has razed the Barbakh building to the ground, and the siblings and cousins who lived there are scattered.

Outside the remnants of their family building, Mr. Barbakh’s nieces and nephews sometimes linger, looking for signs of toys that survived beneath the ruins.

Mr. Barbakh cannot imagine going back to being a purveyor of joy to children.

“My only wish is to rescue my family from this war,” he said. “I have no plans to buy any more toys.”

Farmland in Khuza’a

The verdant Khuza’a region of Khan Younis, the breadbasket of southern Gaza, is land Jamal Subuh’s family has plowed for over a century. His children still remember their first time helping their father with the harvest, and the taste of the melons, tomatoes and peas they had picked fresh off the vine.

Mr. Subuh shared an image of what his cropland looked like before the war.

Gaza’s farmlands represented a rare source of self-sufficiency in an area that has endured a decades-long blockade by Israel and Egypt.

“From generation to generation, we handed down a love of farming this land,” said Mr. Subuh, who was ordered off his property by Israeli military officials. “We eat from it, make money from it and feed the rest of our people from it.”

For Mr. Subuh, his fields were a chance to leave the next generation better off than his own: Each year, he farmed more lands, to pay for his son’s veterinary school and his daughter’s agricultural engineering degree.

He estimates that miles upon miles of fields have been bulldozed, his crops crushed. Advancing Israeli troops destroyed hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of tractors, water pumps and other equipment. The image provided here is the closest Mr. Subuh has been able to get to his land since the war began.

According to the U.N. Food and Agricultural Organization, some 41 percent of the Gaza Strip is cropland. Of that land, it said some 68 percent has been damaged.

After decades of nourishing Gazans, the Subuh family now relies on humanitarian handouts at a displacement camp in central Gaza.

Mr. Subuh expects it would take years to extricate all the unexploded ordinances, replow his fields and ensure the earth is clean of toxic substances that may have seeped into the ground.

Sometimes he regrets not giving up farming sooner, like many Gazan farmers had in previous wars. Yet he mourns the potential end of his farm.

“I had a relationship with that land,” he said. “We had a history together, and I am heartbroken.”

Still, his daughter, Dina, refuses to give up: “I won’t lose my will to plant and care for this land again.”

 

Gaza City

74% of buildings have been likely damaged or destroyed.

Gaza City, the strip’s capital, is home to the ancient Old City, as well as Al-Rimal, a once-vibrant, upper-middle-class neighborhood. The war has torn through the area’s cultural and religious landmarks, including the oldest mosque in Gaza.

Old City

Al-Omari Mosque, wrecked by the war, was the heart of the Old City. It had been a place of worship for thousands of years — evolving as the area’s rulers changed. The ruins of a Roman temple became the site of a Christian Byzantine church in the fifth century, then was repurposed into a mosque in the seventh century.

For Gazans, the unusual architecture of the mosque set it apart from other Muslim houses of worship.

rom other Muslim houses of worship.

Arab Ambience In December, the mosque was all but destroyed in an airstrike by the Israeli military, which said the site had become a command center for Hamas, information that The Times could not independently verify. The strike toppled much of the mosque’s minaret and ruined most of its stone structure — including walls with carved Arabic inscriptions.

Ahmed Abu Sultan used to spend the last 10 days of Ramadan worshiping, sleeping and eating in Al-Omari Mosque. For him, the mosque had spiritual echoes of Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem, a sacred site for Muslims.

“The atmosphere you feel in Jerusalem when you enter the Al-Aqsa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock, you feel the same atmosphere when you enter the Al-Omari Mosque,” Mr. Abu Sultan said.

Seven months before the war began, he took two of his sons — then 8 and 9 years old — to spend a night at Al-Omari during Ramadan, with hopes of beginning an annual tradition. “I wanted to plant this connection in my children,” he said

To mark another rite of passage, generations of Gazans have passed through the Gold Market abutting the mosque.

Riyad Al-Masri, 29, grew up seeing his brother and other older male relatives shop for jewelry for their brides in the tiny shops under the arched ceilings.

Mr. Al-Masri and his wife, who have been living apart because of the war, had shopped at the market soon after they became engaged in February 2023. Presenting the bride with gold jewelry is a long-standing tradition in Palestinian wedding culture.

“These rituals, we all went through them,” he said. “My older brother, my father, my grandfathers, we would get engaged and then go to the Gold Market with our fiancées and buy what they wanted.”

What remain are shuttered doors and piles of debris.

Al-Rimal

Al-Rimal was one of the first targets of Israeli airstrikes.

For decades, the neighborhood had been the center of commerce, trade, academia and entertainment in Gaza. On any given day, Gazans could be seen strolling through the Unknown Soldier Park, a welcome green space in the midst of a busy city.

Many Gazans who visited the park, along Omar Al-Mukhtar Street, could enjoy slushies in the summer or a warm custard drink in the winter from the nearby ice cream parlor, Qazim

The park was a gathering place for rallies and protests. When past wars ended in a cease-fire deal, people celebrated there.

Now the park has been razed and bulldozed. The Palestine Bank tower, along with other buildings overlooking the square, has been gutted and damaged.

Not far away, the Rashaad Shawa center, which housed the oldest library in the Gaza Strip, has been severely damaged. The first cultural center in Gaza, it once stored the strip’s historical archives, passports and other documents of families who moved to the strip.

mong the businesses that made Al-Rimal a destination for Gazans was Shawerma Al-Sheikh, known for its single menu item. It, too, wasn’t spared by the war.

Opened in 1986 as a single meat spit, it had inspired restaurants from the north to the south. It was initially called “The People’s Cafeteria,” but it soon took on a different name after one of its owners, Ihsan Abdo, became known for dressing like “a sheikh” with a long robe and white turban.

Back in the 1950s, the neighborhood was mostly an empty, sandy expanse. Al-Rimal, which means sands in Arabic, was named for its terrain.

As nearby Gaza City areas began to get overcrowded, traders and businessmen started to buy land in Al-Rimal. There they built large homes and multistory buildings, bringing their trades with them into ground-floor shops and storefronts.

“These landmarks have memories and imprints in the heart of every person who came to Gaza,” said Husam Skeek, a community and tribal leader.

 

Jabaliya

81% of buildings have been likely damaged or destroyed.

The town of Jabaliya in the north, which had a role in one of the most pivotal moments of modern Palestinian history, has now become a byword for Gaza’s destruction.

As descendants of Palestinians who fled or were driven from their homes in 1948, many in Jabaliya say this war has evoked a sense of transgenerational trauma. Some describe it as reliving the “Nakba,” or catastrophe: The loss of land, community, and above all, home.

Nowhere has that loss felt as potent as in Al-Trans, the heart of Jabaliya’s social life and its history as a place to protest every power that has controlled Gaza — from Israel to Hamas.

Al-Trans is one of the areas that has been decimated by several Israeli incursions into Jabaliya, where the Israeli military repeatedly used 2,000-pound bombs.

Israel says Jabaliya is a stronghold for Hamas and other militants responsible for the Oct. 7 attacks. After a strike near Al-Trans last October, the Israeli military told The Times that it had destroyed a “military fighting compound” and a tunnel that had been used by Hamas. But locals describe the extent of the destruction as collective punishment.

Named after the first electricity transmitter erected in the area, Al-Trans intersection stood at the center of Jabaliya — figuratively and geographically. This is where people went to shop for groceries, get their hair done, meet friends — and, perhaps most significantly, to protest.

“Jabaliya, and Al-Trans specifically, was a place of change,” said Fatima Hussein, 37, a journalist from the town. “Whenever we have confronted a regime or oppressive force — no matter what that force was — the movement started here.”

In 1987, protests against Israeli occupation that started in Al-Trans set off the First Intifada. Locals rebelled against their own leaders, too: The 2019 “We Want to Live” protests took off from Al-Trans, voicing growing popular anger over repressive Hamas rule.

“Our creativity, our awareness, it was born out of suffering,” said Ahmed Jawda, 30, a protest organizer born in Jabaliya. “Suffering makes you insist on living life.”

That creativity was present in local businesses like the Nahed Al-Assali furniture store. In an enclave struggling with poverty, Al-Assali became hugely successful by offering bargain prices and pay by installment.

“The secret of our success was taking people into consideration,” said Wissam, Nahed’s brother and business partner. “We went easy on people, especially with the price.”

Al-Assali was where newlyweds furnished their new home, and pilgrims purchased prayer rugs. Now it is a pile of charred concrete.

Gone, too, is the Rabaa Market and Cafe, where friends lingered for hours to gossip, and activists planned their protests. So is Abu Eskander Cafe, the local nut roastery, and the Syrian Kitchen, a restaurant so popular that locals simply called it “The Syrian.”

The loss of the landmarks that mapped Gazans’ most cherished memories makes the notion of rebuilding seem impossible to many.

The war has no end in sight. Even if it were to stop today, the cost of rebuilding Gaza would be staggering.

In the first eight months alone, a U.N. preliminary assessment said, the war created 39 million tons of rubble, containing unexploded bombs, asbestos, other hazardous substances and even human remains. In May, a World Bank report estimated it could take 80 years to rebuild the homes that have been destroyed.

But for Gazans, neither time nor money can replace all that has been lost.

If the trauma of previous generations of Palestinians was displacement, Mr. Jawda said, it is now also the feeling of an identity being erased: “Destroying a place destroys a part of who you are.”

THE NEW YORK TIMES 

original article with images


 

 

 

 


 

The Specter of Family Separation

 Honduran asylum seekers are detained near the U.S.-Mexico border in June 2018. Trump has refused to rule out trying to reinstate family separations.

 by Caitlin Dickerson

Almost as soon as Donald Trump took office in 2017, agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement were dispatched across the country to round up as many undocumented foreigners as possible, and the travel ban put into limbo the livelihoods of thousands of people from majority-Muslim countries who had won the hard-fought right to be here—refugees, tech entrepreneurs, and university professors among them. The administration drew up plans for erecting a border wall, as well as an approach to stripping away the due-process rights of noncitizens so they could be expelled faster. These changes to American immigration policy took place in the amount of time that it would take the average new hire to figure out how to use the office printer.

Within days of Trump’s election, his key immigration adviser, Stephen Miller, was already gathering a group of loyal bureaucrats to start drafting executive orders. Civil servants who were veterans of the George W. Bush administration found the proposals to be so outlandishly impractical, if not also harmful to American interests and perhaps even illegal, that they assumed the ideas could never come to fruition. They were wrong. Over the next four years, lone children were loaded onto planes and sent back to the countries they had fled without so much as a notification to their families. Others were wrenched from their parents’ arms as a way of sending a message to other families abroad about what awaited them if they, too, tried to enter the United States.

If given another chance to realize his goals, Miller has essentially boasted in recent interviews that he would move even faster and more forcefully. And Trump, who’s been campaigning on the promise to finish the job he started on immigration policy, would fairly assume if he is reelected that harsh restrictions in that arena are precisely what the American people want. “Following the Eisenhower model, we will carry out the largest domestic deportation operation in American history,” he declared during a speech in Iowa in September, referring to 1954’s offensively titled Operation Wetback, under which hundreds of thousands of people with Mexican ancestry were deported, including some who were American citizens.

Trump and other key fixtures of his time in office have refused to rule out trying to reinstate family separations. They have been explicit about their plans to send ICE agents back into the streets to make arrests (with help from the FBI, the Drug Enforcement Administration, and the National Guard), and finish their work on the wall. They say that they will reimpose the pandemic-related expulsion policy known as Title 42, which all but shut off access to asylum, and that they will expand the use of military-style camps to house people who are caught in the enforcement dragnet. They have laid out plans and legal rationales for major policy changes that they didn’t get around to the first time, such as ending birthright citizenship, a long-held goal of Trump’s. They’ve floated ideas such as screening would-be immigrants for Marxist views before granting them entry, and using the Alien and Sedition Acts in service of deportations. Trump and his advisers have also made clear that they intend to invoke the Insurrection Act to allow them to deploy the U.S. military to the border, and to use an extensive naval blockade between the United States and Latin America to fight the drug trade. That most drug smuggling occurs at legal ports of entry doesn’t matter to Trump and his team: They seem to have reasonably concluded that immigration restrictions don’t have to be effective to be celebrated by their base.

The breakneck pace of work during Miller’s White House tour was periodically hampered by worried bureaucrats attempting end runs around him, or by his most powerful detractors, Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner, whispering reservations into the president’s ear. But Trump’s daughter and son-in-law have left politics altogether, and Miller used Trump’s term to perfect strategies for disempowering anyone else who dared to challenge him. As for job applicants to work in a second Trump administration, Miller told Axios that being in lockstep with him on immigration issues would be “non-negotiable.” Others need not apply.

Those who choose to join Trump in this mission to slash immigration would do so knowing that they would face few consequences, if any, for how they go about it: Almost all of the administration officials who pushed aggressively for the most controversial policies of Trump’s term continue to enjoy successful careers.

The speed of Trump’s work on immigration can obscure its impact in real time. This is why Lucas Guttentag, a law professor at Stanford and Yale and a senior counselor on immigration issues in the Obama and Biden administrations, created a database with his students to log and track the more than 1,000 immigration-policy changes made during Trump’s years in office. Most remain in place. This is worth dwelling on. Trump’s time in office already represents a resurgence of old, disproven ideas about the inherent threat—physical, cultural, and economic—posed by immigrants. And if Trump does return to office, this moment may qualify less as a blip than an era: a period like previous ones when such misconceptions prevailed, and laws like the Chinese Exclusion Act and eugenics-based national-origins quotas ruled the day.

Returning Trump to the presidency would reopen wounds that have barely healed in the communities he has said he would target immediately. Recently, I stood outside a church in the Northeast that caters mostly to undocumented farmworkers, with a Catholic sister who oversees the parish’s programming. As we stood in the autumn light, I remarked on the picturesque scene around her place of worship and work. She replied by pointing in one direction, then another, then another, at the places where she said ICE agents used to hide out on Sunday mornings during the Trump administration, waiting to capture her congregants as they left Mass to go about their weekly errands at the laundromat and the grocery store.

Beyond the emotional impact of Trump’s return, the economy could also face a pummeling if the number of immigrant workers, legal and otherwise, were to drop. In a November 2022 speech, Jerome Powell, the chair of the Federal Reserve, detailed the harm from COVID-related dips in immigration, which left the country short an estimated 1 million workers.

America’s rightward shift on immigration is part of a global story in which Western countries are, in general, turning against immigrants. But the world tends to look to the United States as a guide for what sorts of checks on immigration are socially permissible. A new Trump administration would provide a pretty clear answer: just about any.

An anything-goes approach to immigration enforcement may indeed be what the country is left with if Trump succeeds in the next general election. “The first 100 days of the Trump administration will be pure bliss,” Stephen Miller told Axios, “followed by another four years of the most hard-hitting action conceivable.”

ATLANTIC

 

October 11, 2024

Pantanal em chamas

 



FABIOLA MENDONÇA 

Em um ano convencional, as
inundações deixariam o
Pantanal submerso no pri-
meiro semestre do ano. So-
mente agora, entre o fim de
agosto e início de setembro, a estiagem
atingiria o seu auge, com o esvaziamen-
to completo das cheias. Esse é o fluxo na-
tural do bioma, em um ecossistema am-
bientalmente equilibrado: períodos de
enchentes e secas intercalados. Esse ce-
nário faz parte, porém, de um passado
cada vez mais remoto.


Há pelo menos seis anos o Pantanal
não enche, alterando consideravelmente
a vida no bioma, com cerca de 1,5 milhão
de hectares de seu território devastado
pelo fogo neste momento. Desde janei-
ro, quando o Pantanal deveria estar en-
chendo, já eram perceptíveis alguns fo-
cos de incêndio. A partir de maio, as cha-
mas alcançaram grandes proporções, di-
fíceis de ser controladas, causando danos
irreparáveis. O saldo é desolador: cerca
de 10% do bioma destruído, animais car-
bonizados ou migrando para outras re-
giões em busca de sobrevivência, lutan-
do contra a fome e a sede.


“Mesmo sem a presença do fogo, em
algumas regiões a fauna está sendo im-
pactada. Os corixos (bacias d’água) es-
tão vazios e os rios secaram, obrigando
os animais a se deslocarem. Mas o que a
gente tem observado é que a seca é tão
grande que não existem locais para mi-
grar. O clima impacta na flora, a base da
cadeia alimentar dos animais, e eles fi-
cam sem condições clínicas, não têm es-
core corporal para fazer grandes migra-
ções porque estão debilitados”, explica o
veterinário Enderson Barreto, diretor da
ONG Grupo de Resposta a Animais em
Desastres, que atua no Pantanal Norte,
em Mato Grosso. “Temos imagens no
monitoramento de animais atolados ou
revirando a lama para tentar beber água.
São imagens que trazem um alerta muito
grave de onde a fauna sofre não pela pre-
sença do fogo, mas pela seca extrema, que
também ocasiona incêndios florestais de
grande magnitude.”


Em Mato Grosso, ao menos por ora, as

cípio de Poconé, na Transpantaneira.


A situação é mais preocupante em Ma-
to Grosso do Sul, onde os focos de incên-
dios estão localizados majoritariamente
na Serra do Amolar, em Corumbá, e em
Nhecolândia. O Rio Paraguai, que corta
todo o Pantanal, não está enchendo mais,
então a vegetação que antes ficava sub-
mersa acumula matéria seca, favorecen-
do a propagação das chamas. As queima-
das só não estão piores porque uma frente
fria passou pela região no início deste mês
e deu uma trégua nas chamas. Tão logo
parou de chover, o fogo voltou a castigar.


“Boa parte das chamas foi controlada,
mas muitos focos estão voltando e se es-
palhando novamente. A gente estava ven-
do 100 mil hectares por dia sendo queima-
dos e, com a chuva, teve uma melhora mo-
mentânea. Agora, é concentrar esforços
no rescaldo dessas áreas que foram apaga-
das para garantir que elas não vão reacen-
der”, explica Gustavo Figueiroa, do SOS
Pantanal, entidade que conta com briga-
distas no combate aos incêndios. “Aque-
la chuva que caiu no Rio Grande do Sul
era para ter passado pelo Pantanal, mas
uma massa de ar seco gigante no meio do
País bloqueou e impediu essa frente fria
de entrar pelo Centro-Oeste”, completa.


Segundo o presidente do Ibama, Ro-
drigo Agostinho, a seca prolongada no
Pantanal é resultado da crise climática,
agravada pelo desmatamento no Sul da
Amazônia e nas cabeceiras do Rio Para-
guai. “Como o Pantanal não enche mais, o
pessoal está querendo cultivar dentro da
área e, por isso, tem feito o desmatamento,
que antes era mais na Amazônia e no Cer-
rado. A gente, inclusive, detectou incên-
dios criminosos para fazer desmatamen-
to no Pantanal”, explica. Em setembro, o
Ministério do Meio Ambiente deve lançar
o Plano Nacional de Combate ao Desma-
tamento no Pantanal, mesmo período que
promete entregar planos similares volt

dos para o Pampa, a Mata Atlântica e a Ca-
atinga. No ano passado, o governo já ha-
via publicado os planos contra a devasta-
ção na Amazônia e no Cerrado.
Há poucas semanas, o governo conse-
guiu aprovar no Congresso a Lei de Ma-
nejo Integrado do Fogo e três Medidas
Provisórias voltadas para o combate às
queimadas no Pantanal. “Ela institui
uma política nacional de manejo do fo-
go, criando uma estrutura de governan-
ça para monitorar as queimadas”, explica
Agostinho, acrescentando que o governo
federal destinou 137 milhões de reais pa-
ra o combate aos incêndios no Pantanal.


Até o momento, já foram identificados
90 focos de incêndio na região panta-
neira, provocados principalmente pe-
la ação do homem, seja intencional ou
não. São muitas as origens do fogo, des-
de uma simples fogueira para queimar li-
xo ou material vegetal, passando pelo fo-
go utilizado na coleta de mel, até ações
criminosas ou mesmo acidentes, como
o ocorrido em junho, quando um cami-
nhão pegou fogo e as chamas se propaga-
ram por uma vasta extensão territorial.


“Em 15 de julho, a gente tinha consegui-
do controlar 100% dos incêndios. Aí te-
ve esse acidente e o incêndio espalhou-se
por toda a região de Nhecolândia, uma
área muito sensível”, destaca Agostinho.
Também são muito comuns queimadas
no Pantanal provocadas pela queda de
raios, embora não existam registros re-
centes de tempestades com raios.


A proporção que o fogo está toman-
do este ano só não é pior que os incên-
dios de 2020, considerados os maiores
da série histórica, com 3,9 milhões de
hectares queimados, o equivalente a um
quarto do Pantanal. “A resposta tem si-
do melhor que em anos anteriores. Em
junho, quando as chamas ainda não ti-
nham alcançado 500 mil hectares, já se
viam ações do governo federal. Há qua-
tro anos, só quando o índice estava ba-
tendo em 2 milhões de hectares queima-
dos, por conta da pressão externa e por-
que não tinha mais como negar o que es-
tava acontecendo, é que a gestão Bolso-
naro começou a se mexer. Espero que
este ano não supere 2020, até porque a
gente tem visto a mobilização do Poder
Público e da sociedade civil, está muito
mais ágil”, destaca Figueiroa.


Segundo Barreto, os incêndios deixa-
ram um saldo de 17 mil animais mortos
em 2020. Por onde o fogo passou houve
perdas genéticas e populacionais de ani-
mais, os quais acabam passando por um
processo de readaptação, em um ambien-
te que não é naturalmente deles. “A gente
sabe que o fogo é algo que está presente
no Pantanal, faz parte da composição do
bioma. No entanto, os recorrentes incên-

dios de grande magnitude não estão per-
mitindo uma readaptação da fauna. Mor-
rem muitos animais e não dá tempo de o
bioma se restabelecer com o nascimento
de animais no mesmo ritmo.”


Neste ano, ainda não dá para estimar
a quantidade de animais carbonizados e,
devido à proporção dos incêndios, muitos
nem sequer vão entrar nas estatísticas. A
morte de três onças-pintadas, um adulto
e dois filhotes, despertou, porém, um si-
nal de alerta. Em 2020, não foi registrada
a morte de nenhuma onça, um animal sa-
gaz, habituado a fugir do fogo. “Se as on-
ças, que são animais com grande capaci-
dade de correr, nadar e escalar árvores,
estão sendo afetadas, a gente entende que
todos os outros são impactados de forma
muito mais brusca”, salienta Barreto. Se-
gundo Agostinho, até agora foram resga-
tados 564 animais da região do fogo.
A Secretaria de Meio Ambiente


(Sema) de Mato Grosso está monitorando
as condições da fauna no estado, mas ne-
ga a gravidade da situação, alegando que,
por enquanto, está tudo dentro da norma-
lidade. “A gente percebe que a vida conti-
nua no Pantanal, apesar da seca. Os ani-
mais têm se reproduzido, estão saudáveis.
A gente não nega a seca, a falta de chuvas,
a falta de uma cheia volumosa na planície
pantaneira, mas o nosso bioma é resilien-
te. A tendência é de que, cessando este pe-
ríodo de seca severa, o Pantanal vai se re-
cuperar”, diz Waldo Troy, gerente de fau-
na silvestre da Sema. “Até o momento, não
vemos necessidade de interferência. Lógi-
co que isso pode mudar, porque o pico de
seca vai ser em setembro ou outubro. Mas
a gente está vendo os animais com esco-
re corporal bom, com alimentação, sau-
dáveis”, completa a médica-veterinária
Caroline Machado.

CARTA CAPITAL 

The Cruelty Is the Point

 

 

 President Trump and his supporters find community by rejoicing in the suffering of those they hate and fear.


by Adam Serwer


The Museum of African-American History and Culture is in part a catalog of cruelty. Amid all the stories of perseverance, tragedy, and unlikely triumph are the artifacts of inhumanity and barbarism: the child-size slave shackles, the bright red robes of the wizards of the Ku Klux Klan, the recordings of civil-rights protesters being brutalized by police.


The artifacts that persist in my memory, the way a bright flash does when you close your eyes, are the photographs of lynchings. But it’s not the burned, mutilated bodies that stick with me. It’s the faces of the white men in the crowd. There’s the photo of the lynching of Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith in Indiana in 1930, in which a white man can be seen grinning at the camera as he tenderly holds the hand of his wife or girlfriend. There’s the undated photo from Duluth, Minnesota, in which grinning white men stand next to the mutilated, half-naked bodies of two men lashed to a post in the street—one of the white men is straining to get into the picture, his smile cutting from ear to ear. There’s the photo of a crowd of white men huddled behind the smoldering corpse of a man burned to death; one of them is wearing a smart suit, a fedora hat, and a bright smile.

Their names have mostly been lost to time. But these grinning men were someone’s brother, son, husband, father. They were human beings, people who took immense pleasure in the utter cruelty of torturing others to death—and were so proud of doing so that they posed for photographs with their handiwork, jostling to ensure they caught the eye of the lens, so that the world would know they’d been there. Their cruelty made them feel good, it made them feel proud, it made them feel happy. And it made them feel closer to one another.


The Trump era is such a whirlwind of cruelty that it can be hard to keep track. This week alone, the news broke that the Trump administration was seeking to ethnically cleanse more than 193,000 American children of immigrants whose temporary protected status had been revoked by the administration, that the Department of Homeland Security had lied about creating a database of children that would make it possible to unite them with the families the Trump administration had arbitrarily destroyed, that the White House was considering a blanket ban on visas for Chinese students, and that it would deny visas to the same-sex partners of foreign officials. At a rally in Mississippi, a crowd of Trump supporters cheered as the president mocked Christine Blasey Ford, the psychology professor who has said that Brett Kavanaugh, whom Trump has nominated to a lifetime appointment on the Supreme Court, attempted to rape her when she was a teenager. “Lock her up!” they shouted.
Ford testified to the Senate, utilizing her professional expertise to describe the encounter, that one of the parts of the incident she remembered most was Kavanaugh and his friend Mark Judge laughing at her as Kavanaugh fumbled at her clothing. “Indelible in the hippocampus is the laughter,” Ford said, referring to the part of the brain that processes emotion and memory, “the uproarious laughter between the two, and their having fun at my expense.” And then at Tuesday’s rally, the president made his supporters laugh at her.


[Further reading: The most striking thing about Trump’s mockery of Christine Blasey Ford]
Even those who believe that Ford fabricated her account, or was mistaken in its details, can see that the president’s mocking of her testimony renders all sexual-assault survivors collateral damage. Anyone afraid of coming forward, afraid that she would not be believed, can now look to the president to see her fears realized. Once malice is embraced as a virtue, it is impossible to contain.
The cruelty of the Trump administration’s policies, and the ritual rhetorical flaying of his targets before his supporters, are intimately connected. As Lili Loofbourow wrote of the Kavanaugh incident in Slate, adolescent male cruelty toward women is a bonding mechanism, a vehicle for intimacy through contempt. The white men in the lynching photos are smiling not merely because of what they have done, but because they have done it together.


We can hear the spectacle of cruel laughter throughout the Trump era. There were the border-patrol agents cracking up at the crying immigrant children separated from their families, and the Trump adviser who delighted white supremacists when he mocked a child with Down syndrome who was separated from her mother. There were the police who laughed uproariously when the president encouraged them to abuse suspects, and the Fox News hosts mocking a survivor of the Pulse Nightclub massacre (and in the process inundating him with threats), the survivors of sexual assault protesting to Senator Jeff Flake, the women who said the president had sexually assaulted them, and the teen survivors of the Parkland school shooting. There was the president mocking Puerto Rican accents shortly after thousands were killed and tens of thousands displaced by Hurricane Maria, the black athletes protesting unjustified killings by the police, the women of the #MeToo movement who have come forward with stories of sexual abuse, and the disabled reporter whose crime was reporting on Trump truthfully. It is not just that the perpetrators of this cruelty enjoy it; it is that they enjoy it with one another. Their shared laughter at the suffering of others is an adhesive that binds them to one another, and to Trump.

Taking joy in that suffering is more human than most would like to admit. Somewhere on the wide spectrum between adolescent teasing and the smiling white men in the lynching photographs are the Trump supporters whose community is built by rejoicing in the anguish of those they see as unlike them, who have found in their shared cruelty an answer to the loneliness and atomization of modern life.
The laughter undergirds the daily spectacle of insincerity, as the president and his aides pledge fealty to bedrock democratic principles they have no intention of respecting. The president who demanded the execution of five black and Latino teenagers for a crime they didn’t commit decrying “false accusations,” when his Supreme Court nominee stands accused; his supporters who fancy themselves champions of free speech meet references to Hillary Clinton or a woman whose only crime was coming forward to offer her own story of abuse with screams of “Lock her up!” The political movement that elected a president who wanted to ban immigration by adherents of an entire religion, who encourages police to brutalize suspects, and who has destroyed thousands of immigrant families for violations of the law less serious than those of which he and his coterie stand accused, now laments the state of due process.


This isn’t incoherent. It reflects a clear principle: Only the president and his allies, his supporters, and their anointed are entitled to the rights and protections of the law, and if necessary, immunity from it. The rest of us are entitled only to cruelty, by their whim. This is how the powerful have ever kept the powerless divided and in their place, and enriched themselves in the process.


A blockbuster New York Times investigation on Tuesday reported that President Trump’s wealth was largely inherited through fraudulent schemes, that he became a millionaire while still a child, and that his fortune persists in spite of his fumbling entrepreneurship, not because of it. The stories are not unconnected. The president and his advisers have sought to enrich themselves at taxpayer expense; they have attempted to corrupt federal law-enforcement agencies to protect themselves and their cohorts, and they have exploited the nation’s darkest impulses in the pursuit of profit. But their ability to get away with this fraud is tied to cruelty.


Trump’s only true skill is the con; his only fundamental belief is that the United States is the birthright of straight, white, Christian men, and his only real, authentic pleasure is in cruelty. It is that cruelty, and the delight it brings them, that binds his most ardent supporters to him, in shared scorn for those they hate and fear: immigrants, black voters, feminists, and treasonous white men who empathize with any of those who would steal their birthright. The president’s ability to execute that cruelty through word and deed makes them euphoric. It makes them feel good, it makes them feel proud, it makes them feel happy, it makes them feel united. And as long as he makes them feel that way, they will let him get away with anything, no matter what it costs them.


Article originally published atThe Atlantic

 

October 1, 2024

Kris Kristofferson, Country Singer, Songwriter and Actor, Dies at 88

 

 He wrote songs for hundreds of other artists, including “Me and Bobby McGee” for Janis Joplin and “Sunday Morning Coming Down” for Johnny Cash, before a second act in film.

Kris Kristofferson, the singer and songwriter whose literary yet plain-spoken compositions infused country music with rarely heard candor and depth, and who later had a successful second career in movies, died on Saturday at his home on Maui, Hawaii. He was 88.

His death was announced by Ebie McFarland, a spokeswoman, who did not give a cause.

Hundreds of artists have recorded Mr. Kristofferson’s songs — Al Green, the Grateful Dead, Michael Bublé and Gladys Knight and the Pips, to name a few.

Mr. Kristofferson’s breakthrough as a songwriter came with “For the Good Times,” a bittersweet ballad that topped the country chart and reached the Top 40 on the pop chart for Ray Price in 1970. Later that year, his “Sunday Morning Coming Down” became a No. 1 country hit for his friend and mentor Johnny Cash.

ImageJohnny Cash and Kris Kristofferson, right, in dark jackets, hold microphones in their right hands onstage.
Johnny Cash and Kris Kristofferson performing at the Country Music Awards in Nashville in 1983.Credit...Associated Press

Mr. Cash memorably intoned the song’s indelible opening couplet:

Well, I woke up Sunday morning

With no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt

And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad

So I had one more for dessert.

Expressing more than just the malaise of someone suffering from a hangover, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” gives voice to feelings of spiritual abandonment that border on the absolute. “Nothing short of dying” is the way the chorus describes the desolation that the song’s protagonist is experiencing.

Steeped in a neo-Romantic sensibility that owed as much to John Keats as to the Beat Generation and Bob Dylan, Mr. Kristofferson’s work explored themes of freedom and commitment, alienation and desire, darkness and light.

“Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose/Nothin’ ain’t worth nothin’ but it’s free,” he wrote in “Me and Bobby McGee.” Janis Joplin, with whom Mr. Kristofferson was briefly involved romantically, had a posthumous No. 1 single with her plaintive recording of the song in 1971.

Later that year “Help Me Make It Through the Night” became a No. 1 country and Top 10 pop hit in a heart-stopping performance by Sammi Smith. The composition won Mr. Kristofferson a Grammy Award for Country Song of the Year in 1972.

It was a heady time to be a songwriter in Nashville, where Mr. Kristofferson fell in with a gifted circle of like-minded — and similarly bacchanalian — tunesmiths who were as driven to succeed as he was, Roger Miller and Willie Nelson among them.

“We took it seriously enough to think that our work was important, to think that what we were creating would mean something in the big picture,” Mr. Kristofferson said in an interview with the journal No Depression in 2006.

“Looking back on it, I feel like it was kind of our Paris in the ’20s,” he went on, alluding to the American expatriate writers, like Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein, who lived there at the time. “Real creative and real exciting — and intense.”

Mr. Kristofferson’s raspy, at times pitch-indifferent vocals never gained much traction with commercial radio. One notable exception was the gospel-suffused “Why Me,” a No. 1 country and Top 40 pop hit released on the Monument label in 1973. (Another gospel song of his, “One Day at a Time,” written with Marijohn Wilkin, was a No. 1 country single for the singer Christy Lane in 1980.)

Image
Kristofferson performing with Rita Coolidge in New York in 1978. They were married for much of the 1970s before divorcing.Credit...Michael Putland/Getty Images

Mr. Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge, who were married for much of the ’70s, won Grammy Awards for best country vocal performance by a duo or group with “From the Bottle to the Bottom” (1973) and “Lover Please” (1975). They also appeared in movies together, including Sam Peckinpah’s gritty 1973 western, “Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid,” in which Mr. Kristofferson played the outlaw Billy the Kid. Peckinpah cast Mr. Kristofferson in the film after seeing him perform at the Troubadour in Los Angeles and in “Cisco Pike” (1972), his movie debut.

With rugged good looks that lent themselves to the big screen, Mr. Kristofferson was soon cast by Martin Scorsese as the laconic male lead, alongside Ellen Burstyn, in the critically acclaimed 1974 drama “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore.” He later starred opposite Barbra Streisand in Frank Pierson’s 1976 remake of “A Star Is Born,” a performance for which he won a Golden Globe Award.

Image
Kris Kristofferson, with his torso bare, and Barbra Streisand, her neckline bare.
Mr. Kristofferson and Barbra Streisand in a publicity photo for the 1976 remake of "A Star is Born." His performance earned him a Golden Globe. Credit...Sunset Boulevard/Corbis, via Getty Images

Over four decades Mr. Kristofferson acted in more than 50 movies, including the 1980 box-office failure “Heaven’s Gate” and John Sayles’s Oscar-nominated 1996 neo-western “Lone Star.” Singer-songwriters may not be the likeliest of movie stars, but Mr. Kristofferson consistently revealed an onscreen magnetism and command that made him an exception to the rule. In 2006, he was inducted into the Texas Film Hall of Fame, along with Matthew McConaughey, Cybill Shepherd and JoBeth Williams.

His last major hit as a recording artist was “The Highwayman,” a No. 1 country single in 1985 by the Highwaymen, an outlaw-country supergroup that included his longtime friends Waylon Jennings, Mr. Nelson and Mr. Cash.

Mr. Cash and his wife, June Carter Cash, played a pivotal role in Mr. Kristofferson’s budding career when they invited him to appear with them in 1969 at the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island.

He was still a scuffling songwriter at the time, having worked as a janitor at Columbia Studios in Nashville, where he later recalled emptying ashtrays and wastepaper baskets during the sessions for Mr. Dylan’s “Blonde on Blonde” double album, released in 1966. Immobilized by stage fright at Newport that night, Mr. Kristofferson might have forfeited his opportunity had it not been for the encouragement of Ms. Carter Cash, who, as her husband recalled in interviews, all but dragged him onstage with them.

The evening proved propitious, exposing Mr. Kristofferson to a national audience after he received a highly favorable mention in The New York Times the next day.

Image
A black and white photo of a young Mr.  Kristofferson in a denim shirt that is partly unbuttoned, baring part of his chest, where a medallion on a chain is draped.
Mr. Kristofferson was photographed backstage before performing at the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island in 1969. His performance was a watershed for his career.Credit...David Gahr/Newport Festivals Foundation, via Getty Images

“If there was one thing that got my performing career started, that was it right there,” Mr. Kristofferson said, reflecting on the experience as quoted in the 2013 book “Outlaw: Waylon, Willie, Kris, and the Renegades of Nashville,” by Michael Streissguth.

Kristoffer Kristofferson was born on June 22, 1936, in Brownsville, Texas, the eldest of three children of Mary Ann (Ashbrook) and Lars Henry Kristofferson. His father, a major general in the Air Force, strongly urged him to pursue a military career.

The family later moved west, and in 1954 Mr. Kristofferson graduated from San Mateo High School in Northern California, where he distinguished himself in both academics and athletics. He was subsequently featured as a promising boxer in Sports Illustrated’s “Faces in the Crowd” series in 1958.

Mr. Kristofferson graduated with honors with a degree in literature from Pomona College in Claremont, Calif., in 1958. He also had prizewinning entries in a collegiate short-story contest sponsored by The Atlantic Monthly magazine before being awarded a Rhodes scholarship to study English literature at Oxford.

Under the pseudonym Kris Carson, he made a fruitless bid to become a pop star while there, working with Tony Hatch, the British impresario known for his success with the singer Petula Clark.

Mr. Kristofferson graduated from Merton College, Oxford, in 1960 and received a commission as a second lieutenant in the U.S. Army. In 1961, he married Frances Beer and was stationed in Germany, where he served as a helicopter pilot.

He attained the rank of captain in 1965 and received an appointment to teach English at West Point. He ultimately declined the position, trading the comforts it might have afforded for the penury of life as a would-be songwriter in Nashville.

If his wife was crestfallen by the move, his parents were scandalized. For a while they disowned him for throwing away everything he had worked so hard to achieve.

“Not many cats I knew bailed out like I did,” Mr. Kristofferson told The New York Times Magazine in 1970, talking about this tumultuous period, during which he and his wife divorced. “When I made the break I didn’t realize how much I was shocking the folks, because I always thought they knew I was going to be a writer. But I think they thought a writer was a guy in tweeds with a pipe. And I quit and didn’t hear from ’em for a while.

“I wouldn’t want to go through it again,” he continued, “but it’s part of what I am.”

Success in Nashville eluded Mr. Kristofferson at first, and not without reason. According to Ms. Wilkin, the first publisher to sign him to a songwriting deal, he had a few things to learn — and unlearn — before he arrived at the distinctive mix of vernacular and sophisticated idioms that became his stock in trade.

“He had been a poet and an English teacher, so his songs were too long and too perfect,” Ms. Wilkin said in a 2003 interview with Nashville Scene. “His grammar was too perfect. He had to learn the way people talk.”

Image
Mr. Kristofferson, in black, holding a guitar and with a harmonica near his mouth.
Kris Kristofferson performed in Los Angeles in 2014.Credit...Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images

His transformation as a songwriter involved more than merely sprinkling colloquialisms like “ain’t” and “nothin’” into his lyrics. He also cultivated a keen melodic sensibility, a languid expressiveness that bore little resemblance to the straightforward Hank Williams-derived shuffles he was turning out when he first arrived in Nashville.

“I had to get better,” Mr. Kristofferson once told Nashville Scene, reflecting on the lean years before he broke through as a songwriter. “I was spending every second I could hanging out and writing and bouncing off the heads of other writers.”

He also changed publishers, leaving Ms. Wilkin’s Buckhorn Music for Combine Music, owned by the producer Fred Foster, who also had the freewheeling likes of Shel Silverstein and Mickey Newbury under contract.

In 1970, Mr. Foster issued, on his independent label Monument, “Kristofferson,” Mr. Kristofferson’s debut as a recording artist. The album contained versions of several songs that had been hits for other artists, including “Me and Bobby McGee,” for which Mr. Foster was credited as a co-writer. (That song was originally recorded by Roger Miller, who had a Top 20 country hit with it in 1969.)

Mr. Kristofferson released other albums in the 1970s, to mixed reviews, and by the decade’s end his career in movies began to eclipse his reputation as a singer-songwriter.

In the 1980s and ’90s, his music took an activist turn, with lyrics championing social justice and human rights. “What About Me,” a song from his 1986 album, “Repossessed,” spoke out against right-wing military aggression in Central America.

He also became a prominent defender of the singer Sinead O’Connor in 1992 after she caused an uproar by ending a performance on “Saturday Night Live” by tearing up a photo of Pope John Paul II in protest against sexual abuse in the Roman Catholic Church.

“Maybe she’s crazy, maybe she ain’t,” Mr. Kristofferson wrote in response to her critics, “but so was Picasso, and so were the saints.”

Later that year, he tried to comfort her onstage when her appearance in a star-studded concert at Madison Square Garden celebrating Bob Dylan’s 30 years as a recording artist was met by resounding boos.

Bypass surgery in 1999 slowed Mr. Kristofferson down, as did an extended bout with Lyme disease in the decade that followed, but he remained active into his 80s.

Mr. Kristofferson was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2004. By that time he had already been elected to the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame (in 1977) and the National Academy of Popular Music’s Songwriters Hall of Fame (in 1985). He also received a lifetime achievement honor at the 2014 Grammy Awards.

Image
Kris Kristofferson, wearing a dark shirt and T-shirt, sings into a microphone, a harmonica around his neck.
Mr. Kristofferson performing in 2017. He received a lifetime achievement honor at the 2014 Grammy Awards.Credit...Dylan Martinez/Reuters

Mr. Kristofferson is survived by Lisa (Meyers) Kristofferson, his wife of over 40 years; their sons, Jesse, Jody, Johnny and Blake; and a daughter, Kelly Marie; a son, Kris, and daughter, Tracy, from his marriage to Ms. Beer; and a daughter, Casey, from his marriage to Ms. Coolidge; and seven grandchildren.

A man of prodigious gifts and appetites, Mr. Kristofferson struggled early on with what path to pursue among the many that were open to him. In the song “The Pilgrim, Chapter 33,” he seemed to acknowledge as much, depicting a conflicted figure, much like himself, who took “every wrong direction on his lonely way back home.”

Such self-deprecation notwithstanding, he believed that songwriting — certainly a “wrong direction” in the eyes of his family, at least at first — was the means through which he discovered his vocation in life, and by which he achieved celebrity and artistic acclaim.

“I wouldn’t be doing any of it if it weren’t for writing,” Mr. Kristofferson said, looking back on his career, in a 2006 interview with the online magazine Country Standard Time.

“I never would have gotten to make records if I didn’t write. I wouldn’t have gotten to tour without it. And I never would’ve been asked to act in a movie if I hadn’t been known as a writer.”

The occupation listed on his passport was “Writer.”

THE NEW YORK TIMES