Julian Assange deserves condemnation. He doesn’t deserve extradition.

Last week, Assange, the founder of WikiLeaks who remains imprisoned in England, received bad news. A British judge ruled in favor of a US government request that Assange be extradited to the United States to face charges under the Espionage Act for having published classified diplomatic and military cables. This was a troubling development for anyone who cares about journalism and free speech.

The court decision was the latest turn in a long-running global legal battle. In April 2019, an indictment against Assange was unsealed in the United States. The charge was relatively minor: conspiracy to commit computer intrusion. The maximum possible sentence was five years imprisonment. It stemmed from his alleged effort in 2010 to help Chelsea Manning, then a US soldier, hack a classified database from which she obtained 750,000 secret military and State Department documents that she slipped to WikiLeaks. But weeks later the Trump administration further indicted Assange under the Espionage Act for having publicly posted the material WikiLeaks received from Manning. For that, he faces up to 170 years in prison.

This prosecution poses a serious threat to democracy. I’ll turn to that in a moment. But one PR problem with the case is that Assange is a highly unsympathetic character, for he is partly responsible for the damage done by Donald Trump during his presidency: 400,000 or more preventable deaths of Americans in the COVID-19 pandemic; the lack of action to address climate change; the promotion of disinformation and lies to incite a violent attack on the US Capitol; a tax cut that favored the wealthy and added to the national debt; right-wing appointments to the Supreme Court that could lead to the severe curtailing of reproductive rights for women; the spread of bigotry and racial hatred; the suppression of voting rights; cutbacks in government health programs; creeping (or galloping) authoritarianism; and so much more.

The United States has suffered greatly because of Assange. In 2016, he collaborated with the Russian attack on the US election to help Trump win. As has been detailed by several government investigations—including in special counsel Robert Mueller’s final report and in a bipartisan report issued by the Senate Intelligence Committee last year—after Russian intelligence teams hacked Democratic targets, they passed the stolen emails and documents to WikiLeaks, which then publicly disseminated the material.

The Senate report notes that Assange’s group “timed its document releases for maximum political impact.” That is, WikiLeaks wasn’t acting in a noble information-sharing manner. It sought to weaponize the information pilfered by Vladimir Putin’s operatives to cause harm to candidate Hillary Clinton, whom Assange and WikiLeaks had disparaged as a “sadistic sociopath” and a threat to the world. (“We believe it would be much better for [the] GOP to win,” WikiLeaks had tweeted.)

In disseminating the stolen information, WikiLeaks behaved more as a political hit squad than a media organization. For example, when the Washington Post on October 7, 2016, published the Access Hollywood video showing Trump bragging about grabbing women “by the pussy,” half an hour later WikiLeaks began releasing emails Russian hackers had swiped from John Podesta, the chair of Hillary Clinton’s campaign. This was a counterblow, an attempt to rescue Trump with a distraction. And to inflict the most pain it could on the Clinton campaign, WikiLeaks did not dump all the Podesta information at once (as it had done with its previous release of Democratic Party material at the start of the Democrats’ convention that July). Instead, the group doled out the documents in batches, almost daily, to ensure there would be a steady stream of negative Clinton stories for the final four weeks of the campaign. Assange and WikiLeaks were full partners with Putin in a plot aimed at electing Trump president.

And Assange tried to cover up Russia’s role in this perfidious operation. As the Senate report states:

Assange and WikiLeaks undertook efforts to obscure the source of the stolen emails, including through false narratives. Assange's use of such disinformation suggests Assange possibly knew of and sought to hide Russian involvement. One narrative from Assange involved a conspiracy theory that Seth Rich, a DNC staffer killed in a botched robbery, was the source of the DNC email and had been murdered in response. On August 9 [2016], Assange gave an interview on Dutch television implying that Rich was the source of the DNC emails, and that day WikiLeaks announced that it would be issuing a reward for information about Rich's murder. In a subsequent interview, Assange commented about the WikiLeaks interest in the Rich case as concerning "someone who's potentially connected to our publication." The Committee found that no credible evidence supports this narrative.

Assange was pushing a baseless and odious conspiracy theory (which caused tremendous distress for Rich’s family) that was also being championed by conspiracy nutter Alex Jones, Fox News’ Sean Hannity, and Russian intelligence. His apparent goal was to hide the Kremlin’s role in the pro-Trump/anti-Clinton hack-and-leak scheme that WikiLeaks was facilitating. This is not how a legitimate news organization functions.

Assange and WikiLeaks connived and lied to help Trump vanquish Clinton. The Podesta information dumps were a steady drag on the Clinton campaign in the final stretch, often preventing it from gaining traction for its own messages and themes. These releases also served as a constant reminder to the public of her own email controversy—and as an effective setup for the last-minute revelation from then–FBI Director James Comey that the bureau might have unearthed missing or previously destroyed Clinton emails. (It hadn’t.)

Given how close the election ended up, the Russia-WikiLeaks operation was one of several factors that determined the outcome. Remove Putin’s hackers and Assange’s outfit from the picture, and Clinton probably would have won. (Ditto for Comey’s move, as well as for Clinton’s own decision not to do more in several swing states in the last week.) Assange can (proudly?) claim a degree of ownership of the election results. That means he also partly owns what came afterward. He and WikiLeaks opposed Clinton, they contended, because she was a warmonger. There is no way of telling whether she would have started any wars had she been president. But it’s a damn good bet that had she been in charge during the pandemic, far fewer Americans would have perished.

Assange ought to be punished—if only ostracized and widely denigrated—for his 2016 skullduggery. But the extradition case at hand does not address that. Focused on an earlier episode, it is an excessive use of legal force by the US government—first the Trump administration and now the Biden administration. The Obama administration considered charging Assange for releasing the Manning material under the Espionage Act—which was intended to be used against spies and their collaborators—but it was concerned about a negative impact on journalists. Obtaining and publishing classified documents—and asking sources to provide such material—is a common activity for many news organizations.

When Assange was indicted on these espionage charges, John Demers, then the head of the Justice Department’s National Security Division, said Assange was “no journalist.” Given Assange’s underhanded partnership with Russian intelligence, that may well be an accurate statement. But the actions for which he has been indicted under the Espionage Act are the actions of reporters. And media organizations are correct to worry about a precedent being established. (Most Espionage Act cases have involved government employees who leaked classified information.) As the New York Times reported at the time of the Assange indictment, “Notably, The New York Times, among many other news organizations, obtained precisely the same archives of documents from WikiLeaks, without authorization from the government—the act that most of the charges addressed… [I]t is not clear how that is legally different from publishing other classified information.”

Media outlets and free speech advocates have justifiably howled about this case. Kenneth Roth, the executive director of Human Rights Watch, noted, “The Assange prosecution threatens these basic elements of modern journalism and democratic accountability.” And the Committee to Protect Journalists last week issued this statement: “The U.S. Justice Department’s dogged pursuit of the WikiLeaks founder has set a harmful legal precedent for prosecuting reporters simply for interacting with their sources. The Biden administration pledged at its Summit for Democracy this week to support journalism. It could start by removing the threat of prosecution under the Espionage Act now hanging over the heads of investigative journalists everywhere.”

Considering all the devastation Assange enabled with his 2016 plot against America, it is tough to embrace him as a free-speech martyr. But those who care about accountability and excessive government power don’t always get to choose the battles that must be waged to preserve First Amendment freedoms. Assange mounted a damaging attack on the United States and facilitated a profound subversion of its political system. Still, his prosecution is another assault on American democracy.

Assange’s attorneys say they will appeal the decision, which calls for a lower court to send the case to the British home secretary for a decision on whether Assange ought to be extradited. Meanwhile, Assange will remain in Belmarsh Prison in London. He spent almost seven years in the Ecuadorian embassy in London, ducking extradition to Sweden for a sex crimes case, which was dropped in 2015; he was arrested in 2019 related to bail-skipping charges and the extradition warrant from the United States.

Assange did help put in the White House a wannabe authoritarian who demonized reporters and dangerously claimed the media was the “enemy of the people.” (And the ingrate paid Assange back by indicting him.) Yet now his personal fate is tied to the protection of First Amendment rights. The Biden administration ought to drop this case—not only for Assange’s sake, but for the benefit of the rest of us.

Got anything to say about this item—or anything else? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.

The Watch, Read, and Listen List

WandaVision. As a onetime avid comic books fan—yes, my mom threw out my collection, which today would be worth thousands of dollars—it pains me to say that I find it hard these days to watch superhero movies. Plot has given way to branding and marketing. The writing for these cinematic events tends to be far inferior to that of the glory days of Marvel and DC Comics. Avengers: Infinity War felt like an eternity. Neither cut of Justice League did justice to Batman and his pals. When a superhero flick soars—as did The Dark Night, the first Iron Man, and The Black Panther—it’s a relief and a surprise. So that’s why I turned toward WandaVision, a limited series streaming on Disney+ with trepidation. But I’m glad I did.

If you’re not well-steeped in the details of the MCU—that’s what the cool kids call the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which refers to the series of interconnected movies featuring the protagonists of Marvel comic books—it’s going to be hard to explain this to you. Wanda Maximoff (Elizabeth Olsen) has mighty telekinetic powers and is affiliated with the Avengers. Vision (Paul Bettany) is (or was) a synthezoid (think human-robot mix with plenty of AI). The two were in love. But Wanda had to destroy Vision to save the world. (It’s complicated.) Yet at the start of WandaVision, the two are inexplicably a married couple living in a 1950s sitcom set in a New Jersey bedroom community. With a laugh track. Something is obviously going on, but we don’t know what it is. Each episode shows the pair contending with domestic bliss and hijinks in a succeeding decade. That allows creator Jac Schaeffer to turn the nine-episode series into a history of sitcoms, honoring (or mocking) The Dick Van Dyke Show, I Love Lucy, Family Ties, The Office, Modern Family, and others. It’s done incredibly smartly. Even if you don’t care about infinity stones and the MCU, WandaVision is worth watching for these clever sendups.

Of course, this is not a peril-free celebration of television’s shining moments. Wanda, experiencing immense grief at the loss of Vision, has used her powers to take over a real Jersey town to create an idealized alternative reality for her and a resurrected Vision. (As a young girl in the fictional East European country of Sokovia, Wanda obsessed over American television shows.) The authorities are not too happy with this. Neither is Wanda’s zany next-door neighbor, Agnes (Kathryn Hahn), who turns out to be something much different than comic relief. Eventually, a rogue superhero narrative kicks in, and Wanda has a few tough choices to make. With WandaVision, Schaeffer reminds us that the best comic books were propelled by superb writing and that there is no reason not to expect the same in the commercial blockbusters churned out by the MCU Machine. Her ingenious reimagination of a superhero tale is refreshing and marvelous.

Barn, Neil Young and Crazy Horse. I have a foggy recollection of a Village Voice review of Rust Never Sleeps, the bravura 1979 album by Neil Young and Crazy Horse, in which critic Robert Christgau recounted how his mom overheard him listening to the new record, recognized Young’s distinctive vocals, and asked something like, “Is he still around?” At that point, Young had been releasing music for 11 years. Maybe a decade seemed a long time back then. Forty-two years later, one can still ask that question—is he still around—and the answer: Yes, he is. With his longtime collaborators Nils Lofgren, Billy Talbot, and Ralph Molina, Young last week released his 41st studio album, Barn. Listening to it is like checking in—or checking up—on an old friend. He may still be kicking, but does he still have it? And while the album is unlikely to be hailed a masterpiece by Young’s admirers, it features all the winning qualities of his solo work and his decades-long partnership with Crazy Horse, including those crunchy and melodic guitar riffs and compelling garage band grooves.

As the title of the album suggests, Young rounded up his mates in a barn in Colorado, and they jammed as they have always done. With Lofgren matching Young’s electric guitar muscle on “Heading West,” Young waxes nostalgic about growing up in a small town. On “They Might Be Lost,” Young sings of sitting on a porch and waiting for some guys in a truck. The tune sounds as if it could’ve come off one of Young’s ’70s albums, with its lolling rhythm and melancholy drift. Several tracks highlight Young’s environmental concerns. On “Human Race,” as guitars grind, Young asks, “Who's gonna tell / the children of destiny / that we didn't try to save the world for them?” There are familiar-sounding ditties about love, “Tumblin’ Thru the Years” and “Don’t Forget Love.” For “Welcome Back,” Young resurrects the moody and dreamy feel of his best musical meditations and reflects on his decades of art: “Gonna sing an old song to you right now / One that you’ve heard before / Might be a window to your soul I can open slowly / I’ve been singing this way for so long.” He certainly has. With this album, Young allows us to peek into the barn, catch a glimpse of what this 76-year-old musician and his pals are up to, and feel assured that he indeed is still here and can still deliver. You can even watch for yourself:

Read Recent Issues of This Land

December 11, 2021: Trump’s newest—and biggest—potential conflict of interest; Dumbass Comment of the Week (Tucker Carlson Edition); the Mailbag; MoxieCam™; and more.

December 7, 2021: John Lennon and the NRA—four decades later; Chris Christie: Trump is afraid to lose in 2024; an inspiring documentary about Jacques Cousteau; and more.

December 4, 2021: Donald Trump and the Cruddy Pan Theory of human behavior; Peter Thiel, kingmaker?; Dumbass Comment of the Week; the Mailbag; MoxieCam™; and more.

November 30, 2021: One big reason to fear a Trump restoration: revenge; why The Beatles: Get Back is one of the greatest documentaries ever; Tick, tick…BOOM! is Lin-Manuel Miranda’s love letter to theater geeks; and more.

November 23, 2021: How dangerous is Peter Thiel?; No Time to Die as a daddy-daughter film; spending time with Nick Offerman; Aimee Mann’s fabulous new album; and more.

November 20, 2021: Should the Democrats really push the panic button?; the Steele dossier and Donald Trump’s betrayal of America; Dumbass Comment of the Week; the Mailbag; MoxieCam™; and more.

November 16, 2021: New information on how Donald Trump killed 400,000 (or more) Americans; Ivanka Trump and Donald Trump Jr. on the witness stand in a Trump corruption trial?; American Rust shines with Jeff Daniels; Bruce Springsteen and John Mellencamp face the final song; and more.

November 13, 2021: Does blue-state America care more about red-state America than vice versa?; Dumbass Comment of the Week; how to get back issues of This Land; the Mailbag, MoxieCam™; and more.