For his entire second term, Donald Trump has been grousing about Fed Chair Jerome Powell’s resistance to cutting interest rates, but he has always stopped short of actually trying to run Powell out of office—until now. On Sunday, the Federal Reserve released a direct-to-camera video from Powell. In it, he said the Department of Justice has served the Fed with subpoenas and threatened a criminal indictment over alleged cost overruns for renovations at the Fed building. It’s an excuse Trump has been using for going after Powell since last summer.

In his video, Powell—who has gone about his business and ignored Trump’s increasingly ominous rhetoric for a year—dropped all pretense. “This new threat is not about my testimony last June or about the renovation of the Federal Reserve buildings. It is not about Congress’s oversight role; the Fed through testimony and other public disclosures made every effort to keep Congress informed about the renovation project. Those are pretexts,” Powell said. “The threat of criminal charges is a consequence of the Federal Reserve setting interest rates based on our best assessment of what will serve the public, rather than following the preferences of the president.” And here’s the thing: No one is really disputing it. Happy Monday.

Masks, Courage, and Accountability

by Mark Hertling

Between my two tours in Iraq, first in 2003–2004 and then in 2007–2008, one of the more subtle changes I saw in the Iraqi Army and Iraqi Police that U.S. forces were helping organize and train had to do with masks. During my first tour, many of the police recruits and the young soldiers—jundi—wore scarves pulled high across their mouths and noses, sometimes a traditional shemagh or keffiyeh, sometimes whatever cloth they could find. Those face coverings weren’t about intimidation. They wore them due to fear and a lack of courage. Cowardice.

Early on, these men were joining a fragile security force, and they were new to their mission. They understood that insurgents would target anyone cooperating with Americans. They also believed their families would be threatened. Covering their faces, masking their very identity, was a form of survival.

But things changed as security improved and legitimacy began to take hold across the country during the 2007–2008 period. As Iraqi security units gained competence, confidence, and public trust, the Iraqi people came to see the police—not just the men but also the new women police officers—as protectors of the citizenry. Those scarves started to disappear. Soldiers wore their uniforms openly and proudly, and Iraqi commanders didn’t allow faces to be covered. The police began to identify themselves to the people they were protecting as part of the “new Iraq.” There was even a billboard campaign featuring soldiers and police smiling and proclaiming their dedication to a safe, stable environment.Visibility became a marker of courage: This is my job. This is my country. I stand behind what I do.

That memory haunts me as I look at the images of ICE officers operating around the country.

ICE agents now regularly operate masked, heavily militarized, and—most troubling—without any visible identification. ICE officials argue that masks are necessary to prevent doxxing or harassment. But that rationale collapses under scrutiny, especially in a democracy.

In democratic societies, the use of lawful force depends on legitimacy. Legitimacy depends on accountability. And accountability begins with identification.

Police officers, federal agents, soldiers—anyone empowered to detain, arrest, or use force—must be identifiable both to their chain of command, and to the citizens in whose name they act. When officers purposely conceal their faces and perform their duties without name tapes or badge numbers, they sever an essential connection to the public. They turn authority into anonymity. And anonymous power is precisely what democratic systems are designed to prevent.

I’ve commanded soldiers in combat zones where anonymity could mean life or death. Even then, we understood that identity signaled responsibility. It signaled professionalism, discipline, and confidence in the mission. It told the population: We answer for the things we do.