The General US Politics Thread

Police officers reported seeing fewer drug dealers on street corners. They encountered fewer people who had open arrest warrants.

Police questioned fewer people on the street. They stopped fewer cars.

In the space of just a few days in spring 2015 – as Baltimore faced a wave of rioting after Freddie Gray, a black man, died from injuries he suffered in the back of a police van – officers in nearly every part of the city appeared to turn a blind eye to everyday violations. They still answered calls for help. But the number of potential violations they reported seeing themselves dropped by nearly half. It has largely stayed that way ever since.

“What officers are doing is they’re just driving looking forward. They’ve got horse blinders on,” says Kevin Forrester, a retired Baltimore detective.

The surge of shootings and killings that followed has left Baltimore easily the deadliest large city in the United States. Its murder rate reached an all-time high last year; 342 people were killed. The number of shootings in some neighborhoods has more than tripled. One man was shot to death steps from a police station. Another was killed driving in a funeral procession.

What's happening in Baltimore offers a view of the possible costs of a remarkable national reckoning over how police officers have treated minorities.

Starting in 2014, a series of racially charged encounters in Ferguson, Missouri; Chicago; Baltimore; and elsewhere cast an unflattering spotlight on aggressive police tactics toward black people. Since then, cities have been under pressure to crack down on abuses by law enforcement.

So has the U.S. Justice Department. During the Obama administration, the department launched wide-ranging civil rights investigations of troubled police forces, then took them to court to compel reforms. Under President Donald Trump, Washington has largely given up that effort. "If you want crime to go up, let the ACLU run the police department," Attorney General Jeff Sessions said at a gathering of police officials in May. Whether that scrutiny would cause policing to suffer – or crime to rise – has largely remained an open question.

In Baltimore, at least, the effect on the city's police force was swift and substantial.

Police typically learn about crime in one of two ways: either someone calls for help, or an officer sees a crime himself and stops to do something. The second category, known among police as an “on-view,” offers a sense of how aggressively officers are doing their job. Car stops are a good example: Few people call 911 to report someone speeding – instead, officers see it and choose to pull someone over. Or choose not to.

Millions of police records show officers in Baltimore respond to calls as quickly as ever. But they now begin far fewer encounters themselves. From 2014 to 2017, dispatch records show the number of suspected narcotics offenses police reported themselves dropped 30 percent; the number of people they reported seeing with outstanding warrants dropped by half. The number of field interviews – instances in which the police approach someone for questioning – dropped 70 percent.

“Immediately upon the riot, policing changed in Baltimore, and it changed very dramatically,” says Donald Norris, an emeritus professor at the University of Maryland Baltimore County, who reviewed USA TODAY's analysis. “The outcome of that change in policing has been a lot more crime in Baltimore, especially murders, and people are getting away with those murders.”

Police officials acknowledge the change. "In all candor, officers are not as aggressive as they once were, pre-2015. It’s just that fact," says acting Police Commissioner Gary Tuggle, who took command of Baltimore's police force in May.

Tuggle blames a shortage of patrol officers and the fallout from a blistering 2016 Justice Department investigation that found the city's police regularly violated residents' constitutional rights and prompted new limits on how officers there carry out what had once been routine parts of their job. At the same time, he says, police have focused more of their energy on gun crime and less on smaller infractions.

"We don’t want officers going out, grabbing people out of corners, beating them up and putting them in jail," Tuggle says. "We want officers engaging folks at every level. And if somebody needs to be arrested, arrest them. But we also want officers to be smart about how they do that."

The change has left a perception among some police officers that people in the city are free to do as they please. And among criminals, says Mahogany Gaines, whose brother, Dontais, was found shot to death inside his apartment in October.

On a sticky morning in May, the Rev. Rodney Hudson slips on a black “Sermonator” T-shirt and walks down the street from his west Baltimore church, a gray stone edifice two blocks from where police arrested Gray. A few days earlier, a drug crew from another neighborhood set up camp on the corner across the street. Hudson says the dealers nearly got into a gunfight with the crew that usually works across from the elementary school down the block.

Since Gray’s death, at least 41 people have been shot within a short walk of Hudson’s church.

“Drug dealers are taking control of the corners and the police’s hands are tied,” Hudson says. “We have a community that is afraid.”

Two blocks away, Mayor Catherine Pugh and a knot of city officials are under a tent on an empty lot to break ground for a group of new townhouses. Police officers linger on the streets, and a helicopter swirls overhead. But three blocks down Pennsylvania Avenue, drug crews still appear to be at work. Shouts of “hard body” – one of the drug cocktails on offer – ring clearly. Another man shouts a warning as Hudson and a reporter approach.

Drug dealers have worked Baltimore’s street corners for decades. But Hudson says it has been years since he has seen so many young men selling so brazenly in so many places. Dealers, he says, “are taking advantage” of a newly timid police force.

At least 150 people have been killed in Baltimore this year.

Ebony Owens’ son, Decorey Horne, 20, was shot to death in 2016 in a parked car along the narrow street behind his aunt’s house. Another man who was with him was shot but survived. Eleven months later, the father of Owens' youngest son, Sherman Carrothers, was found dead outside his house with a gunshot wound. He was one of four people shot in the city that night.

Owens grew up in Baltimore and knew the city could be dangerous. But this, she says, is different:

“I don’t remember it being like this.” 'These guys aren't stupid'

By almost any measure, this has been a troubled time for Baltimore’s police force.

It began in April 2015, when officers in west Baltimore chased Gray, arrested him for possession of what they said was an illegal switchblade and loaded him into the back of a police van, handcuffed but without a seatbelt. By the time Gray left the van, he was in a coma. He died a week later. Protests followed, then riots. Prosecutors charged six police officers for Gray’s death but abandoned the case after three were acquitted.

The next year, the Justice Department’s civil rights arm accused Baltimore’s police of arresting thousands of people without a valid legal basis, using unjustified force and targeting black neighborhoods for unconstitutional stops. Investigators quoted a detective who said he saw officers plant drugs on a suspect, and a patrol officer who said his job was to “be the baddest (expletive) out there.”

This year, eight officers in an elite anti-gun unit were convicted in a corruption scandal that included robbing drug dealers and carrying out illegal stops and searches. One officer testified that a supervisor told them to carry replica guns they could plant on suspects. Another officer was indicted in January after footage from his body camera showed him acting out finding drugs in an alley. The city’s new police commissioner, Darryl De Sousa, resigned in May after federal prosecutors charged him with failing to pay his income taxes.

For civil rights lawyers and federal investigators, those episodes offer evidence of a police force in trouble and too often willing to trample the rights of minorities.

But some officers drew a different lesson: “Officers no longer put themselves on the firing line,” says Victor Gearhart, a retired lieutenant who supervised the overnight shift in Baltimore’s southern district before he was pushed out of the department for referring to Black Lives Matter activists as “thugs” in an email.

“These guys aren’t stupid. They realize that if they do something wrong, they’re going to get their head bit off. There’s no feeling that anybody’s behind them anymore, and they’re not going to do it,” he says. “Nobody wants to put their head in the pizza oven when the pizza oven is on.”

Gearhart and other officers say no one ordered them to make fewer stops or take fewer risks. "We didn't have to tell them," he says. "We just said these are the facts, this is the situation, and if you want to risk your career, have at it."

That reaction fits a wider pattern. Nearly three-quarters of police officers who responded to a Pew Research Center survey last year said high-profile incidents had left them less willing to stop and question people who seem suspicious. Even more said the incidents had made their jobs harder.

It has also drawn scorn from civil rights advocates, who scoff at the idea that police can’t protect both the city and the rights of its residents.

“What it says is that if you complain about the way the police do our job, maybe we’ll just lay back and not do it as hard,” says Jeffery Robinson, a deputy legal director for the American Civil Liberties Union, which had advocated for an overhaul of police agencies in Baltimore and elsewhere. “If it’s true, if that’s what officers are doing, they should be fired.” A sudden change

To track the change in Baltimore, USA TODAY examined 5.1 million police dispatches from 2013 to 2017.

They show that even before Gray died, the number of encounters Baltimore officers initiated on their own was dropping.

But in the weeks after the 25-year-old’s death – after protests erupted into riots, and the National Guard came and left – the number of incidents police reported themselves plummeted.

Where once it was common for officers to conduct hundreds of car stops, drug stops and street encounters every day, on May 4, 2015, three days after city prosecutors announced that they had filed charges against six officers over Gray’s death, the number fell to just 79. The average number of incidents police reported themselves dropped from an average of 460 a day in March to 225 a day in June of that year, even though summer weather typically brings higher crime. By the end of last year, it was lower still.

At the same time, violence in the city leapt to historic highs. Police recorded more than 200 murders and assaults involving guns in May 2015, triple the number in March.

Criminologists who reviewed the records say it’s impossible to determine whether that rapid change played a role in the city’s rising crime, but some found the pattern troubling.

“The cops are being less proactive at the same time violence is going up,” says Peter Moskos, a John Jay College of Criminal Justice professor and former Baltimore officer who reviewed USA TODAY’s data and analysis. “Cops are doing as requested: lessening racial disparity, lessening complaints, lessening police-involved shootings. All those numbers are just great right now, and if those are your metrics of success, we’re winning. The message has clearly gotten out to not commit unnecessary policing.”

Neither the mayor nor Kevin Davis, the city’s police commissioner until January, responded to questions about the changes.

Anthony Barksdale, a retired Baltimore police commander, says the message to officers was unmistakable.

“These guys have family members who tell them 'Don’t go to work and chase people for a city that doesn’t care about you,'” he says. “If I’m riding down the street and I see an incident, I see it, but you know what? It’s not worth it. That’s what these cops are thinking.”

Marc Short, one of the administration’s longest-serving senior aides and a frequent spokesperson for the president on television, is planning to depart by July 20, according to a person familiar with the plans.

Short, who declined to comment on the record, is taking a position at Guidepost Strategies consulting firm and will teach at the University of Virginia’s business school, where he received his MBA, and will also serve as a senior fellow at the university’s Miller Center.

Short took the job as Trump’s top liaison to Capitol Hill after serving as a senior aide to Vice President Mike Pence on the 2016 campaign. A veteran of Republican politics, Short was seen as an establishment voice within the decidedly anti-establishment administration. He was in the center of Trump’s key legislative fights, from the failed attempt to repeal the Affordable Care Act to the rewrite of the tax code and the marathon efforts to reshape the judiciary.

Unlike past legislative affairs chiefs, Short took on a significant media profile, regularly appearing on cable news and Sunday shows to defend the White House and advocate for the president. But unlike other White House faces, from former press secretary Sean Spicer to counselor to the president Kellyanne Conway, Short largely managed to avoid making the type of controversial statements or embarrassing gaffes that have become commonplace in Trump’s orbit. Like other former officials, Short may continue to make television appearances.

At Guidepost, Short will serve as a partner alongside Phil Cox, a former executive director of the Republican Governors Association, and Marie Sanderson, who was policy director at RGA. The firm does consulting, lobbying and communications for an array of corporate and nonprofit clients, including the tobacco company Reynolds American, pharmaceutical giant Eli Lilly, BMW and the American Petroleum Institute. Short himself will not be doing any lobbying.

“Marc brings that unique combination of policy depth and political expertise, which is a hallmark of our firm,” Cox said in a statement to POLITICO. “Marie and I are excited to have him join our team.”

Short is slated to begin his fellowship at UVA on Aug. 1.

“It’s an honor for me to welcome Marc Short to the Miller Center," Miller Center director William Antholis said in a statement to POLITICO. “Marc is widely respected in both parties. We had the privilege of getting to know Marc through the presidential transition and the Trump Administration’s first year, and have been impressed by his professionalism, effectiveness, and collegiality.”

Short is among a large cadre of senior White House staff members to leave before the president’s two-year mark, as Trump’s White House has seen an unprecedented level of staff turnover. Already, Trump has cycled through a chief of staff, deputy chief of staff, four communications directors, a press secretary, a chief strategist, two national security advisers and a number of midlevel aides.

The interview "will focus on the summit, Syria, Russian interference in the 2016 U.S. election, arms control and where Putin sees Russia’s place in the world," Fox News added.

The interview will be Putin's first with Wallace, who started in media more than 50 years ago at CBS and currently serves as the host of "Fox News Sunday." It will also mark the Russian president and former KBG officer's first interview with an American television outlet since March, when NBC's Megyn Kelly interviewed him at the Kremlin.

Trump told reporters in Brussels after the end of the NATO summit on Thursday that the "ultimate" deal the U.S. could reach with Putin would be for the end of nuclear weapons programs worldwide.

“What would be the ultimate? Let’s see. No more nuclear weapons anywhere in the world, no more wars, no more problems, no more conflicts. ... That would be my ultimate," Trump said, according to Reuters.

Trump has said on multiple occasions that better relations with Russia, despite meddling in the 2016 presidential elections, would ultimately be better for both countries.

Trump during the news conference also said he would raise election meddling with the Russian leader called Putin a “competitor,” adding that “he’s not my enemy.”

“Is he a friend? No, I don't know him well enough. But the couple of times that I've gotten to meet him, we got along well... I hope we get along well.”

“I think I could have a very good relationship with President Putin,” Trump said in April. “There is also a great possibility that that won’t happen. Who knows, OK?”

“I think we’ll be able to have great dialogue, I hope,” the president said. “Remember this — getting along with Russia is a good thing.”

The interaction took place at around 4:30 p.m. on March 27th, 2018, according to public records, when Mosley (R-Lake Havasu City) was pulled over by a La Paz County Sheriff’s Deputy just north of Parker, AZ allegedly doing 97 mph.

According to the deputy’s report, Mosley was swerving in and out of traffic passing vehicles on State Route 95 north of Resort Drive. Radar indicated that the vehicle’s speed was 97 mph in a 55 mph zone.

When he pulled Mosley over, the deputy said that he saw Mosley waving something out the driver’s side window. When the deputy got out of his patrol vehicle and made contact with Mosley on the passenger side, he said it turned out that Mosley had been showing him a placard which indicated that he was an elected state representative, and reportedly told the deputy that he shouldn’t waste his time processing a citation because he has legislative immunity.

“I explained the reason for the stop to Mosley and asked if there was any reason he was traveling so fast,” the deputy said in his written report. “I informed Mosley that 97 mph in a 55 mph zone is considered criminal speed. Mosley stated he was just in a hurry to get home to surprise his family in Lake Havasu City, Arizona. Mosley also told me that I should just let him go and that I shouldn’t waste anymore of my time dealing with him due to his immunity as a government official.”

Legislative immunity is designed to protect lawmakers from targeted attempts to keep them from voting on essential state matters. According to Arizona state law:

• “Members of the legislature shall be privileged from arrest in all cases except treason, felony, and breach of the peace, and they shall not be subject to any civil process during the session of the legislature, nor for fifteen days next before the commencement of each session. (Article IV, part 2, section 6.).”

After leaving Mosley to run his driver’s license, the deputy walked back to Mosley’s vehicle and told him to watch his speed, reminding him of how fast he was going.

On video captured by the officer’s body camera (embedded above), Mosley is heard saying he drives at “120, 130.” The officer replies, “Really?” Mosley laughs back, saying, “Yeah, this goes 140. That’s what I like about it.”

The lawmaker was talking about the Lexus LS 400 he was driving at the time of the stop, and went on to say he usually drives more slowly in his Toyota Prius, which has been in the garage. The deputy asked for clarification on what Mosley was saying.

“You were driving 130 earlier, you said?” the deputy asked.

“Yeah, I go 130, 140, 120. I come down I-10, I was going 120 almost, you know, if there was no traffic,” Mosley said.

Deputy: “The, the purpose? You just can, so you do?”

Mosley: “Well, no, it’s, it’s, like, I’m trying to surprise my wife, [inaudible] as long as it’s, you know, as long as it’s safe, but… I don’t even notice that I’m going very fast because of this, you know, car just, you know, nice wheels, nice, you know, suspension, but… Yeah I mean, I don’t, I don’t break the law because I can, but because I, [inaudible]…”

Deputy: “Just trying to get home, a hundred and thirty.”

“Well,” Mosley said, shrugging.

“Okay. Well your logic is flawed for me,” the deputy replied. “I see too many accidents. That’s, that’s not safe.”

“And you’ve never sped in your life, I’m sure,” Mosley responded.

“I absolutely have, but not 130, 120, not even in this thing,” the deputy said, gesturing to his patrol vehicle.

“What? Does it have a governor on it?” Mosley asked.

The deputy then ended the conversation quickly, saying he wasn’t going to lecture Mosley further. He told him to have a good day and walked away without further interaction.

“Seeing that my conversation about safe driving was going nowhere,” the deputy wrote, “Mosley was allowed to continue on his way without incident.”

The La Paz County Sheriff’s Department issued a press release Thursday saying that the deputy had acted properly, checking with his department regarding legislative immunity and then forwarding the matter to the La Paz County Attorney’s Office for a proper review.

“The La Paz County Sheriff’s Office, like all Arizona law enforcement agencies, follow and enforce Arizona Revised Statutes,” the release reads. “In the recent traffic stop that was conducted on the Arizona Representative, the La Paz County Deputy was provided with information that the State was currently in Legislative Session. The Deputy acted properly during the traffic stop then forwarded the traffic offense to the County Attorney’s Office for review.”

Mosley, a Republican member of the Arizona House of Representatives, made news in 2017 after he said that there should be no compulsory education, and he says he wants to repeal an Arizona law that mandates that young people attend school.

He was first elected in 2016 and is up for re-election this year.

Parker Live reached out to the La Paz County Attorney’s Office to ask if there is any intention to pursue the incident legally. County Attorney Tony Rogers sent back this reply:

“I did receive that report, but because Mr. Mosley represents La Paz County, to avoid even the appearance of impropriety, I requested that our state representative, APAAC (Arizona Prosecuting Attorneys’ Association Council), find another agency to review the report.”

Elizabeth Ortiz at APAAC told Parker Live that the Cochise County Attorney’s Office has agreed to review the matter:

“The La Paz County Attorney’s Office did refer this matter to APAAC, and asked me to identify another jurisdiction to take it over. The Cochise County Attorney’s Office agreed to take over this matter and it was sent to that office for review. I do not know what, if any, decisions have been made by the Cochise office, as I do not track that type of information.”

Cochise County Attorney Brian Mc Intyre told Parker Live Thursday that he is reviewing the matter:

“A complaint has not yet been filed. I do not believe the ethical rules permit me to say whether I intend to charge the matter or not, however. I am able to say that it will be reviewed consistent with our ethical obligations and a charging decision will be made as time and resources permit.”

The Arizona Fraternal Order of Police announced Thursday it has withdrawn its political endorsement of Mosley.

“Rep. Mosley’s recklessness, his demeanor and his utter disregard for the safety of the public represent the exact opposite of what the Arizona Fraternal Order of Police looks for in an elected official,” said John Ortolano, president of the organization.

UPDATE: Mosley apologized on his Facebook page to his constituents, saying:

• ”I would like to apologize to my colleagues and constituents, as well as law enforcement, for my conduct on March 27th, 2018, which is shown in the recently-released video. My desire to get home to see my family does not justify how fast I was speeding nor my reference to legislative immunity when being pulled over. Legislative immunity is a serious responsibility and should not be taken lightly or abused. In addition, my jokes about frequently driving over 100 miles per hour during my 3-hour commute to and from the capitol were entirely inappropriate and showed extremely bad judgement on my part, for which I am truly sorry. I have no excuse for any of this, only regret of my actions, a hope for forgiveness and a commitment that it will not happen again.”