ABC News did Donald Trump a favor. With its new documentary, Out of the Shadows: The Man Behind the Steele Dossier, the network cast the Trump-Russia scandal just the way Trump and his minions have longed to do: as a controversy about the memos produced by former British intelligence official Christopher Steele and their unproven allegations that Trump directly colluded with Vladimir Putin’s attack on the 2016 campaign and that Moscow possessed kompromat on Trump (that notorious “pee tape”). As it focused on this international man of mystery, this news special happened to ignore such key elements of the scandal as how Russia successfully subverted American democracy and how Trump and his campaign aided and abetted this assault.

It’s natural for a news outlet to feature a former spy who caused such a fuss. After all, grabbing an on-camera, sit-down interview with Steele was a big get. Yet—and this may sound odd coming from the journalist who in October 2016 first revealed that the Steele memos existed and that the FBI was examining their allegations of possible Trump-Russia connections—Steele and his dossier have always been a sideshow to the main event: the Kremlin’s clandestine assault that helped Trump win.

Steele’s memos, we know now, had nothing to do with precipitating the FBI’s probe of contacts between the Trump campaign and Russia. They were indeed misused by the FBI to obtain a top-secret surveillance warrant of Carter Page, a Trump campaign foreign policy adviser who visited Moscow during the campaign. But the Page matter was a thin slice of the full investigation. It was not until months after the 2016 election that Steele’s memos, commissioned by Fusion GPS, a corporate intelligence company working for a law firm representing the Hillary Clinton campaign and the Democratic National Committee, caused a public sensation, when their contents—especially those few sentences about the supposed “golden showers” incident—were public revealed by BuzzFeed News. (I had chosen not to report the details of these unsubstantiated allegations.) As embarrassing as this was for Trump at the time, in a way, the Steele memos came to help Trump by providing him and his henchmen a distraction to exploit. Whenever the very real issue of Russia’s pro-Trump attack arose, Trump and his crew screamed bloody murder about Steele and the memos, often claiming falsely that these memos—befouled by salacious innuendo and gossip—had initiated and poisoned the Russia investigation. This became an even more effective defense-by-deflection for Trump when a Department of Justice inspector general report raised questions about Steele’s sources and the FBI’s handling of the dossier.

It was a clever ploy on the part of the Trump gang: Deny the unfounded—that Trump was caught on tape consorting with urinating prostitutes and that he conspired directly with Putin—to sidestep the damning reality that Trump and his aides betrayed the nation by both encouraging the Russian operation and trying to cover up Putin’s sinister intervention. Out of the Shadows unintentionally bolsters this deceptive spin.

The documentary examines the collusion question only from the perspective of what the Steele memos—raw and unconfirmed material—alleged: “an extensive conspiracy” between the Trump campaign and the Kremlin. The film points out that special counsel Robert Mueller’s report found no evidence of such a plot. (To give Steele some credit, his first memo, written in June 2016, did identify an undercover Kremlin effort to assist Trump. This was before the existence of Moscow’s operation was known and five weeks before the FBI opened an investigation.)

The documentary, though, neglects to mention the substantiated contacts that did occur between the Trump camp and Russian operatives while Moscow was trying to sabotage the election. This includes the now-infamous meeting in Trump Tower (detailed in the Mueller report) between Donald Trump Jr., Jared Kushner, Paul Manafort, and a Russian emissary who was supposed to deliver the Trump team dirt on Hillary Clinton as part of a secret Kremlin plot to help Trump. This was a Trump campaign attempt at collusion, and the meeting sent a signal from Trump HQ to Moscow: Feel free to secretly assist us. And in retrospect, it shows that when Manafort and Trump Jr. later publicly denied Russia was interfering in the election, they were lying.

Nor does the documentary reference the interactions between Manafort, when he was Trump’s campaign chief, and Konstantin Kilimnik, described by a 2020 Republican-approved Senate Intelligence Committee report as a “Russian intelligence officer.” The committee noted that “Kilimnik likely served as a channel to Manafort for Russian intelligence services.” It also stated that Manafort had communicated with Russian oligarch Oleg Deripaska and several pro-Russian oligarchs in Ukraine. (Last week, the FBI raided homes Deripaska has used in Washington, DC, and New York City.) Moreover, this report said the committee had “obtained some information suggesting Kilimnik may have been connected to the [Russian intelligence’s] hack and leak operation targeting the 2016 U.S. election” and that it had found “two pieces of information” that “raise the possibility” that Manafort himself was connected “to the hack-and-leak operations.” In April, the Treasury Department slapped sanctions on Kilimnik for attempting to influence the 2020 election on behalf of Russia and called him a “known Russian Intelligence Services agent.” It also noted that during the 2016 election, Kilimnik provided Russian intelligence with “sensitive information on polling and campaign strategy”—material Manafort slipped him. So put aside whatever Steele conveyed (and did not prove) in his memos; credible investigations have uncovered serious and suspicious connections between the 2016 Trump campaign and Russia.

The documentary also neglects another crucial point: Trump provided cover for Putin’s attack on the United States. This is how the Senate report summed it up: “The Trump Campaign publicly undermined the attribution of the hack-and-leak campaign to Russia and was indifferent to whether it and WikiLeaks [which was leaking the Democratic material stolen by Moscow’s hackers] were furthering a Russian election interference effort…The Campaign was aware of the extensive media reporting and other private sector attribution of the hack to Russian actors prior to that point.” The GOP-led committee concluded that Trump, Manafort, and others aided the Russian assault by dismissing its existence.

Moreover, the documentary leaves out yet another vital piece of the story: what the Russians did. It barely mentions the first Russian hack-and-leak operation mounted to undermine Hillary Clinton’s campaign during the Democratic convention. And unless I missed a fleeting reference, it says nothing about the four-week-long leak of hacked emails in October 2016, which began hours after the emergence of the “grab-’em-by-the-pussy” video that seemed likely to doom Trump. That Moscow-engineered operation severely hampered the Clinton campaign throughout the final month of the campaign. It was certainly one of several factors that contributed to her loss and Trump’s win. Nor does the documentary look at the extensive covert social media campaign the Russians waged to intensify political divisions in the United States before the election and that helped Trump.

Steele is indeed a fascinating figure. In the documentary, he defends his actions and his memos and stubbornly stands by some allegations that have been shot down. The only mistake he acknowledges is having spoken to me—presumably because that enraged his FBI contacts and ended his relationship with the bureau. (Per my agreement with Steele, I had not identified him, but when my article appeared a week before the election, the FBI could tell that Steele had talked to me.) Yet examining the Steele tale without placing it within the full context of Russia’s successful attack and Trump’s undeniable complicity does the viewer a disservice. The Steele documentary is yet another sign of how Trump has escaped full accountability for his profound treachery.

Got a comment on this item—or any suggestion, tip, or lead for the newsletter? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.

The GOP’s Big Con in Virginia

Some people say the Republican Party has become a cult. Some say it has become a con. Glenn Youngkin, the Republican candidate in the Virginia governor’s race, shows that it’s both. As the former CEO of the Carlyle Group, a huge private equity outfit, he entered the contest as a non-politician who claimed he knew how to get stuff done. And to enhance his appeal to moderate voters, he has tried to distance himself from the worst of the GOP craziness by acknowledging that, yes, Joe Biden legitimately won the election. (He did this only after he had captured the Republican nomination.)

Still, Youngkin has enthusiastically accepted Trump’s endorsement, echoed the former guy’s demands for “election integrity,” and campaigned with local Republicans who champion the Big Lie. That is, he has welcomed the Trump cult into his tent, while campaigning as a reasonable fellow. There’s the con. As I revealed a few days ago, Youngkin gave $1 million of his own personal fortune to a Virginia political action committee that supports local Republican candidates, and a good chunk of that cash has financed GOP office-seekers who promote the fraudulent claim the election was stolen from Trump and who downplay the Trump-incited January 6 attack on the US Capitol. Youngkin needs the votes of moderates and independents to win the November 2 election against Democrat Terry McAuliffe, the former governor, yet he has fully allied himself with the authoritarian and anti-democracy extremists of his party. Can he pull off this duplicitous maneuver? With the election a test of that question, this contest is consequential for Americans beyond the borders of the Old Dominion.

Dumbass Comment of the Week (Special Edition)

I usually present this feature at the end of the week—for obvious reasons. But a string of comments the other day compelled this special edition. Who could have predicted that a horrifying tragedy on a movie set—Alec Baldwin accidentally shooting to death cinematographer Halyna Hutchins and wounding director Joel Souza—would quickly become a punchline for prominent conservative Twitter users? This awful event immediately spurred a who-can-be-the-worst-human contest. Leading the pack were J.D. Vance, a Trump-bootlicker running for senator in Ohio; Rep. Lauren Boebert (R-Colo.), a onetime QAnon champion; and Eli Lake, a Bloomberg columnist long associated with the neocons. Here are the tweets they issued:

It seemed Vance, Boebert, and Lake primarily viewed the death of Hutchins as an opportunity to demonstrate how witty they could be. This degree of callousness was stunning. (I’ve known Lake for years, and his reaction did surprise me.) Once upon a time, Republicans and conservatives bemoaned American culture for becoming overly rude and uncivil. In the Trump era—which hasn’t ended—they compete to show how crass they can be. Congratulations to Vance, Boebert, and Lake—you all win.

The Watch, Read, and Listen List

Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats, “Love Don’t.” Want to get up and move? Rateliff and his band know how to provide the propulsion. He is skilled at producing R&Bish, brassy music powered by driving beats, a soulful horn section, and his gritty, bluesy vocals. If you don’t know these hits—“S.O.B.” and “I Need Never Get Old”—pop them on whenever you want to pump yourself up. Rateliff recently issued a new song, “Love Don’t,” which is off his soon-to-be-released album, The Future. Once again, he shows he can capture the legendary sound of soul-rock and make a new tune feel classic. Appropriately, The Future is on the Stax Records label, which decades ago created Memphis soul. (That included the work of Otis Redding, Rufus Thomas, Al Green, and many others.) If it is true—as Pablo Picasso is said to have quipped—that good artists copy and great artists steal, then Rateliff is a master thief.

The War on Drugs, “I Don’t Live Here Anymore.” Speaking of modern retrograde music, The War on Drugs has also released a song from an upcoming album. “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” captures and updates the guitar-and-synth sound of the 1970s and 1980s. If you ever imagined what a Don Henley and Pink Floyd collaboration might sound like, you now have your answer. I heartily support any musician who can flick at classic rock and keep it fresh.

Got any recommendations on what to watch, read, or listen to? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.

Read Previous Issues of This Land

October 23, 2021: Joe Manchin, “bullshit,” and me; Dumbass Comment of the Week; the Mailbag; MoxieCam™; and more.

October 19, 2021: Who’s the most dangerous House Republican and why you might not know his name; why Squid Game hooks us; a new book on the history of xenophobia; Rock ’n’ Roll Flashback: a young and angry Elvis; and more.

October 16, 2021: Crunch time for Merrick Garland; Bannon, QAnon, and the Virginia governor race; Dumbass Comment of the Week; the Mailbag; MoxieCam™; and more.

October 12, 2021: How Donald Trump betrayed Trump country; one of the best books about survival and isolation ever; the disappointments of The Many Saints of Newark; and more.

October 9, 2021: Can Trump and the GOP be stopped from shoving 1/6 into a memory hole?; how you can join a This Land online salon; the world premiere of Jill Sobule’s new song, “You Better Not F*ck in Texas”; the Mailbag; MoxieCam™; and more.

October 5, 2021: The Democracy Crisis: Could this be Joe Biden’s big mistake?; kicking Pat Robertson on the way out; Skyfall vs. Casino Royale; a Velvet Underground tribute; and more.

October 2, 2021: How we almost got that big Lewandowski scoop; Dumbass Comment of the Week; MoxieCam™; and more.

September 29, 2021: Note to Greta Van Susteren: The road to hell is paved with both-siderism; the value of Netflix’s Worth; a crazy CIA story; and more.

September 25, 2021: What do Common, Leonard Bernstein, and Dwight Eisenhower have in common?; Dumbass Comment of the Week; the Mailbag; MoxieCam™; and more.

September 21, 2021: The Trump-Russia scandal denialists are taking another desperate stab at gaslighting you; Netflix’s The Chair nails the assignment; and more.

September 18, 2021: Hey Marco Rubio and Glenn Greenwald, this is the real problem with Milley, Trump, and nuclear weapons; Dumbass Comment of the Week (did Barack Obama really kill rock ’n’ roll with racial politics?); the Mailbag; MoxieCam™ (a new toy!); and more.

September 14, 2021: Will the new Bill-and-Monica television series spur a reappraisal of the Clinton scandal?; a stunning new Holocaust movie you can’t see—yet; one of the best articles ever about a family and its dog; and more.

September 11, 2021: How Trump’s conspiracy theories are killing people in West Virginia and elsewhere; more 9/11 reflections; Dumbass Comment of the Week (Special Confederacy Edition); a look at HBO’s very odd White Lotus; MoxieCam™; and more.

September 8, 2021: 9/11 plus 20: a remembrance and a thank-you; the chilling climate crisis warning in HBO’s Reminiscence; and more.

September 3, 2021: Texas shows how Trumpism has become fascistic vigilantism; Dumbass Comment of the Week; Rock ’n’ Roll Flashback (how I was popped by Iggy Pop); MoxieCam™; and more.