Jyllene Wilson is still wary of doctor's offices and public restrooms, and whenever she's away from home, she uses a smartphone app that can help detect hidden cameras to ensure she is safe from prying eyes.
Joshulyn Brown harbors a deep-seated distrust for many white-collar professionals, especially doctors and lawyers. Stazi Simmons-Gomez gets panic attacks when a male doctor enters a room to examine her, and one of Simmons-Gomez's daughters fell into a spell of depression and began cutting herself.
The four have one thing in common: They were each patients of Nikita Levy, a Johns Hopkins gynecologist whose warm demeanor won over the trust of thousands of women, many of them poor and black. In February 2013, police discovered that Levy had been taking sexually explicit photos and videos of his patients during appointments using cameras hidden in pens and elsewhere in his exam room and discovered a trove of videos and images. Levy, who began practicing with Johns Hopkins in 1988 and had served thousands of women, committed suicide days later, penning an apology note to his wife and slipping a bag of helium over his head.
Levy's patients - 8,344 of them - filed a class-action lawsuit against Johns Hopkins, which settled in July 2014 for $190 million. The women say the impact of the trauma is nearly immeasurable, the nightmares and lost sleep, the distrust that has driven them away from regular checkups, the panic attacks that strike out of nowhere. It is only within the past month that they learned what the settlement may entitle them to.
Irma Raker, a Maryland Court of Appeals senior judge whose long career included prosecuting sex crimes, was appointed claims adjudicator in the case. The sterile title masks the gargantuan responsibility of determining what a lifetime of suffering is worth.
What Levy did left no physical scars, resulted in no debilitating physical injury, and the women had no idea they had been violated until after Levy was caught. No one but Levy could say for certain which patients were photographed and how many times; with his death, they chose not to pursue the traumatizing task of identifying the women in the photos. Many of the factors driving the settlement amounts were subjective: Did you believe you were photographed? How did it affect your life?
"We were considering the distress and the concerns that they had about the photographs and the kind of symptoms they experienced after they learned about his arrest, the betrayal of trust that they had," Raker said in an interview. "We cared, and we listened, and we took into account each person's experience."
Based on those personal assessments, each woman is set to receive between $1,750 and $26,048. A judge ordered that $32 million of the total settlement would go to attorneys for the women, according to online court records.
Jonathan Schochor, an attorney who represents the women, did not respond to requests for comment. Kim Hoppe, a spokeswoman for Johns Hopkins Medicine, said the system acted quickly to remove Levy from his practice after a co-worker discovered the photos and videos.
"That a physician would do such a thing is unimaginable. When we were informed of Dr. Levy's actions, we acted quickly and decisively," Hoppe said in a statement. "We have strong policies in place to protect patient privacy, but all hospitals must rely to some extent on the integrity of their caregivers. Dr. Levy breached a trust not only to his patients, but to Johns Hopkins Health System as well."
Compensating for psychological trauma is challenging, a task devoid of the kinds of objective markers that might accompany a physical injury. How does someone put a dollar amount on a loss of dignity and trust, on humiliation and shame?
Kenneth Feinberg, a lawyer who has been tasked with parceling out settlements to victims in mass tragedies, including the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, the Virginia Tech massacre and the Boston Marathon bombing, said it is so difficult to determine payouts for psychological trauma that some lawyers opt not to do it at all. In such settlements, only the victims who sustained physical injuries or the families of those who died receive compensation.
In the Levy settlement, Feinberg said that "you don't have traumatic physical injury. That means that all of the harm is psychological. Well, who proves that? How do you demonstrate a degree of harm to justify eligibility? That's a very difficult thing to do, to calibrate the degree of psychological damage."
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A nurse referred Simmons-Gomez to Levy in 2007. There was something about his warm nature that put many women at ease.
"He reminded me of Dr. Huxtable from 'The Cosby Show,' " Simmons-Gomez said.
Over time, he grew to be a confidant, someone she went to with her life's troubles. When Simmons-Gomez was a student at Morgan State University and was struggling with a biochemistry course, he tutored her by phone and during appointments, when she came in with her class notes.
Simmons-Gomez took her two teenage daughters to Levy for checkups, a decision that haunts her.
"That guilt of putting your innocent daughters in the hands of a monster, it just makes me sick," Simmons-Gomez said.
She believes that Levy photographed her, although she won't ever know for sure. She recalls him using a penlight during his exams and believes it is the same pen that police later determined was a secret recording device. She recalls him turning on Eric Clapton's "Layla" after exams and doing a silly dance. In hindsight, she believes Levy was celebrating after he captured images of her body.
When she learned that Levy had been arrested, Simmons-Gomez cried and began vomiting.
"They will never be able to fathom what we've all been through," Simmons-Gomez said through tears. "Sleepless nights, missing work, your body at work but your brain elsewhere . . . we lived through hell, and some of us are still going through hell."
Simmons-Gomez received $26,048 in the settlement.
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To determine how much each woman would receive, Raker assembled a team - many with training in psychology and social work - to come up with a list of questions that would attempt to capture the range of the women's experiences. They contacted the victims and conducted lengthy, confidential phone interviews with those who were willing. They also asked women about their lives before they met Levy, with the idea that some experiences - such as a sexual assault - could have amplified their trauma.
"The injury that we considered was the patient or class member's perception, belief or knowledge that they were photographed," Raker said. "When we go to a gynecologist or an obstetrician, it's so private and it's so intimate, and it's not a very comfortable experience. And then to learn that your doctor was taking photographs of some people and he could be taking photographs of you - you don't know whether he did it or not - it evokes different kinds of emotions in different people."
Raker placed the women in four categories based on the severity of their "negative experiences, perceptions and symptoms." Those assigned to the lowest category are set to receive $1,750; those in the highest, $26,048.
Like Simmons-Gomez, Brown, too, sometimes replays memories of her visits to Levy, and she is overwhelmed with shame. Brown went to Levy for a decade beginning in the late 1980s, and she said that he used an unusual number of lights during exams. She vomited when she learned of Levy's arrest, and she later went to counseling to deal with her strong emotions.
Authorities have told Brown that the images, videos and hard drives are locked away in a vault where no one can see them. But she can't shake the fear that she was photographed and that images of her are somewhere on the Internet, that people are looking at photos of her body.
"That's always going to be in the back of my head," Brown said. "It's a sick feeling. I've been exposed in ways that I can't explain . . . and no amount of money can fix what's going on."
She was awarded $20,001.
Wilson considered Levy like family. She sent him Christmas presents, had his personal cellphone number and confided in him about her life and marriage. When she lost a pregnancy, he held her hand as she wept. She defended the doctor even after his arrest, and when he committed suicide, she called Levy's brother to offer her condolences.
"I gave him my condolences because, at that time, I'm still in denial that this man who held my hand and cried with me and my husband could do something like that," said Wilson, who also referred friends and family members to Levy. "This is someone I trusted with everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything."
After Levy's arrest, Wilson was too shaken to see a doctor and only returned when she ended up in the emergency room to have her gallbladder removed. She recently started seeing a gynecologist again, and when she enters a doctor's office, she sweeps her phone across the room, using an app that aims to detect hidden cameras.
Wilson was awarded $20,001.
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Simmons-Gomez said she is appealing her settlement to seek more money: "There's no way in hell $26,000 - that's the most a person can get - should suffice the amount of pain that was afflicted upon the victims and minor children."
Raker said she aimed for fairness, but it did not surprise her that women emerged from the process dissatisfied.
"There was no model for this," Raker said. "It was important for each person to be treated individually, for that patient to know that we believed each person was an individual."
Raker and two other judges are in the midst of hearing appeals from women who are personally pleading their cases. Even Simmons-Gomez, who said she is fighting for a six-figure settlement, said nothing can restore her dignity, her sense of security.
"There's no amount of money that constitute what we all went through," she said.
GIBRALTAR - When the apes disappear from the Rock of Gibraltar, the British will go, too.
So says a bit of local lore taken seriously enough that Winston Churchill ordered emergency primate reinforcements at the height of World War II, and residents of this fish-and-chips enclave in the land of flamenco pamper their simian neighbors with meticulous care and feeding.
Yet even as the colony of apes - tailless monkeys, really - thrives in its home at the top of the Rock, the 30,000 Britons who live at the foot of the soaring limestone monolith are feeling nervous.
They may not be going anywhere. But thanks to Brexit, Gibraltar is about to leave the European Union - giving Spain new impetus in its centuries-long quest to retake control of this strategically vital and economically prosperous territory, Britain's sole continental outpost.
To the residents - who take their Britishness seriously - Spain's suggestions that Gibraltar could be cut off from the rest of Europe unless it accepts at least partial Spanish sovereignty represent a serious threat.
Gibraltar, they say, embodies the European ideal of shared prosperity through cross-border trade and movement. But as European bonds fray, those living here worry that the coupling of Brexit with Spanish threats could return Gibraltar to a painful past.
"Instead of feeding the goose that lays the golden egg, Spain is trying to kill it," said Ernest "Tito" Vallejo Smith, a retired military man, local historian and tour guide. "We don't know what's going to happen. We're stuck in limbo."
In that respect, Gibraltar has company. Since the stunning vote by Britain in June to exit the EU, the country has been locked in suspended animation, awaiting the outcome of negotiations that will reshape virtually every aspect of its relationship with its European neighbors.
As Gibraltar's predicament shows, untangling Britain from the EU will not be easy. With the negotiations expected to begin this spring, British Prime Minister Theresa May has vowed that she will deliver results to a population demanding liberation from the Brussels bureaucracy and, in particular, greater freedom to limit migration into Britain.
But she also will have to defend British financial interests, which are heavily intertwined with the EU. And she will need to look out for each of the United Kingdom's component parts, some of which - Scotland, Northern Ireland and Gibraltar - voted against Brexit.
Meanwhile, European negotiators will seek to use every bit of leverage to drive a hard bargain with their soon-to-be-former EU ally, and to dissuade wavering members from a rush to the exits.
The negotiations, due to last two years, could leave tiny Gibraltar especially vulnerable. Its residents know this well, and it helps to explain why 96 percent of Gibraltarians who voted in the June referendum opted for "remain."
Unlike its rainy motherland some 1,000 miles to the north, sun-splashed Gibraltar relies on daily movement and trade across a European border for nearly half of its workforce and the vast majority of its resources. And the country that controls that border is Spain - which gave Gibraltar away to Britain in a peace treaty more than 300 years ago, and has wanted it back ever since.
With the Brexit vote, Spanish officials seemed to think their moment had finally come. Within hours of the result, then-Foreign Minister José García-Margallo declared that the time to plant "the Spanish flag on the Rock" was close at hand.
Last fall, Spain took its case to the United Nations, arguing that Britain's hold on Gibraltar was an outdated relic of colonialism.
Spain's position has slightly softened in recent weeks, with the country's new foreign minister acknowledging that Spain has little hope of regaining control as long as the British government and Gibraltar authorities refuse to budge. But he also suggested that there will be consequences to Gibraltarians for a spurned Spanish offer of co-sovereignty.
"They have a right to get left out of the EU, if that's what they want," Alfonso Dasits told the Spanish newspaper El País. "But if Gibraltar wants a relationship with the EU, it will have to go through us."
To longtime residents, the implication is so clear it doesn't even need to be stated. With Britain and Gibraltar out of the EU, Spain could decide to sharply limit movement at the border, choking off the territory's thriving economy, which is built on financial services, online gambling and e-commerce.
Most people here do not think Spanish authorities actually would go that far. But as residents know from bitter experience, it has been done before.
"Never underestimate the lengths that the Spanish government will go to to damage Gibraltar," said Edward Macquisten, chief executive of the Gibraltar Chamber of Commerce. "That's the lesson of our history."
Indeed, "steady as the Rock of Gibraltar" may be a familiar phrase worldwide, but through millennia of war, siege and disputed control, this place has rarely been placid.
Its location - on a peninsula jutting into the Mediterranean, with clear views of the African and European coasts plus the nine-mile-wide strait that bears Gibraltar's name - has made it an incomparable military prize. The Rock itself is a natural fortress, its sheer walls deterring all but the most dogged invaders.
But the factors that made Gibraltar so coveted have also made it the object of damaging battles, as the tunnels, cannon batteries and pockmarked stone walls that litter the verdant Rock attest.
With only one road in and out, Gibraltar is also highly vulnerable to siege. In 1969, the Spanish dictator Francisco Franco took advantage of that weakness, abruptly closing the border. The territory was cut off from supplies and deprived of workers. Families divided by the separation were forced to shout news of births and deaths across a fence, their words dying in the sea wind on particularly blustery days.
The border was not fully reopened for 16 years, creating a bitter and lasting memory.
"We don't want to go back to a situation of history revisiting itself," said Jennifer Ballantine, director of the Gibraltar Garrison Library. "It was painful enough the first time."
Chief Minister of Gibraltar Fabian Picardo insists that that is not going to happen - and that neither is any form of Spanish sovereignty, an idea Gibraltarians emphatically rejected in a 2002 referendum.
"The people of France are French, the people of Germany are German and the people of Gibraltar are British," Picardo said in an interview in his handsome offices off Gibraltar's Main Street, which is lined with fruit-laden orange trees and red postal boxes bearing the seal of Queen Elizabeth II.
Britain's Brexit vote, Picardo said, was a moment of "deep sorrow" in Gibraltar - because residents are committed Europeans and because they knew the vote to leave would give Spain leverage.
But now that Britain has made its choice, he said, it is vital for the territory to retain access to the single European market and to preserve fluid movement for the 12,000 workers who cross the border daily. He said Britain's government will fight for both.
"I have absolutely no doubt that London understands how important those issues are for Gibraltar and for the United Kingdom," he said.
British officials have, for their part, insisted that they will not submit to Spanish demands. Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson made that clear in typically colorful fashion, declaring that Britain would maintain "an implacable, marmoreal and rock-like resistance" to any effort to weaken its control over Gibraltar.
But even so, Gibraltar's plucky residents are girding themselves for possible hard times. The monkeys - Europe's only free-range colony - are here to stay, and so are the British. But that doesn't mean life won't become rough.
"The Gibraltarian is a born survivor. We've been through sieges, through wars, through all kinds of bad times," said Vallejo Smith, the tour guide, historian and lifelong resident who at 68 speaks from personal experience. "But somehow, we always manage to come out afloat."
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Karla Adam in London contributed to this report.
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Video: Spain sees an opening to take back Gibraltar as Brexit looms
Britain's vote to leave the E.U. gives Spain new impetus in its attempts to take back the strategically vital and economically prosperous territory. (Griff Witte / The Washington Post)
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Just how old is that hooptie in your driveway?
The average vehicle on American roads is nearly 12 years old, market research shows, as drivers hold on to their old, reliable wheels for longer stretches of time. That has held true even as more people than ever bought new cars last year - 17.5 million of them.
If you're not a consumer who bought new in recent years, the showroom floor and its wares may look different from what you've seen in the past. The most popular vehicles today are getting bigger in size, generating reams of data and, more and more often, pestering you to drive better. The vehicles built for the future - those that are merely bold concepts today - will be even more peculiar and provocative.
In the past two weeks, the CES technology conference in Las Vegas and the North American International Auto Show in Detroit offered tremendous insight into where automotive trends stand today and where they appear to be headed in the years to come. Below are seven trends every driver should have on his or her radar, whether looking to make a trade-in or just gawking at what's on the road.
Autonomous driving
Let's address the hype right here: Fully autonomous cars won't be sold for quite awhile. How long that will be is an open question and most expect the transition from driver to driven will be gradual. Nevertheless, most major automakers and newcomers, too, are trying to imagine the future.
Google's self-driving spinoff, Waymo, announced at the auto show that it has built sensors for self-driving and will put minivans with the technology on the road this month. At CES, Ford revealed the latest iteration of a self-driving vehicle that it hopes will be ready for the road come 2021.
That doesn't mean a vehicle you buy this year won't assist you with the driving. What's here today are a litany of driver-assist technologies that could put you one step closer to a hands-free future. There are sensors that activate when you drive too close to the line or if there's a car in your blind spot. Adaptive cruise control technology automatically adjusts your speed based on the distance of the car in front of you. Rear-view cameras are joined by side-view and aerial-view cameras.
Some of these technologies have existed in various states, but they're growing more sophisticated, said Richard Wallace of the Center for Automotive Research.
Crossovers
If it looks like an SUV, but drives like a car, then it's probably a crossover. That's the name given to vehicles built on a car frame with the design features and functionality commonly associated with sport-utility vehicles - think the Honda CR-V and Toyota RAV4. They're more popular than ever. Americans bought 5.6 million of them last year, which translates to nearly a third of all new car sales.
If the auto show is any indication, you'll soon see even more models in dealerships. Nissan debuted the Rogue Sport, the slimmer sibling to its top-selling Rogue. Mazda displayed the all-new CX-5 and Ford the EcoSport, both of which were first seen at the L.A. Auto Show in November. Before the show even officially started, GMC lifted the cover on a smaller version of the Terrain.
Michelle Krebs, a senior analyst at industry research firm Autotrader, attributes the popularity of crossovers to their versatility. Sure, they are more fuel efficient than larger SUVs and trucks, and drivers certainly care how much they pay at the pump. Ultimately, though, many car-buying decision comes down to lifestyle, Krebs said. Young families need a place for every tot. Baby boomers can more easily get in and out of higher seats. Shoppers who buy in bulk want more cargo space.
Of course, if you want something even bigger, automakers have that covered, too. Volkswagen has the forthcoming seven-seater Atlas, and Subaru showed off the Viziv-7 concept. Ford also has some big cars on the way, but more on that in a minute.
Big data in the car
Your car and your smartphone are starting to have a lot in common, though only one can be used to take a selfie - at least for now. Automobiles increasingly come with Internet connections, and in a few years that technology will almost certainly be ubiquitous. As it stands, the Department of Transportation proposed rules requiring that all new cars on the road must be able to "talk" to one another digitally by 2020. Regulators and automakers see the potential for such technology to reduce accidents and deaths.
But the wired car also opens the door to more data about drivers being collected and shared than ever before. Ford, Toyota and other automakers joined together to launch a common infotainment system that connects to Apple iOS and Google Android. That means app developers can adapt their creations for the car more easily, and customers on the platform could have more ways to integrate their car with the other devices that power their lives. Ford, for example, announced some of its cars will use Amazon Echo and the virtual assistant Alexa, so you will be able to command your car to do things using just your voice.
The arrival of big data in the automobile has reason to give consumers pause. For one, there are privacy and security concerns that require vigilance - car hacking has the potential to become a problem if automakers do not effectively safeguard against it. What's more, automakers have plans to turn that data into revenue, though many agree that data belongs to the customer, who should determine how it is used.
What's old is new
For all the innovative proposals that automakers put forward, there are certain mainstays that customers simply won't shake. And some of the big announcements at the show here were revamped versions of vehicles that are already popular.
Toyota made a splash with the all-new 2018 Camry, its most modern take on America's best-selling car for 15 years straight. Ford released a new version of its iconic F-150 pickup truck, the best-selling vehicle in the country for more than 30 years. Both come with streamlined designs and in-car technology, among other features, but they're likely to feel familiar.
In 2020, Ford plans to bring back its cult-favorite Bronco, which has not been made since 1996. The Ford Ranger, the second-most popular pickup outside of North America, will join its U.S. fleet in 2019. More futuristically, VW unveiled a concept version of its iconic, '70s-era microbus that is self-driving and electric. Called I.D. Buzz, a vehicle similar to the concept on display here could hit the market in 2022, VW said.
Even more electric vehicles
Automakers are producing more all-electric and hybrid vehicle models than ever, with more slated to come down the pike.
Ford announced plans recently to produce 13 electrified models by 2020. Mercedes will make 10 by 2025. Volkswagen, which is out to prove its environmental fortitude after the diesel emissions scandal, has 30 of them in the works. The Chevy Bolt EV was named the North American Car of the Year.
Here's the wrinkle: People aren't really buying them. About 170,000 hybrid and plug-in vehicles were sold in 2016, a 25.2 percent decline from the year before, according to Kelley Blue Book. Even fewer electric vehicles were sold last year - about 50,000, a 1.6 percent increase from 2015.
But there is reason to believe the market will ripen. The distances that electric vehicles can travel on a single charge has increased substantially in just a few years. Also, the Obama administration and automakers have announced plans to install thousands of charging stations along major thoroughfares. That should ease concerns about what happens if your car starts to run out of juice.
Ultimately, however, a big incentive to buy electric is high gasoline prices - and right now they are well off their peak. Still, automakers need to make them sell. The industry has spent a lot of money on research and development and, at least for now, must work toward fuel efficiency and environmental goals established under the Obama administration.
Let's make a deal
Last year brought automakers their unprecedented eighth consecutive year of sales growth. One of the big reasons for that: They offered serious financial perks to close deals. Those included discounts on sticker prices and rebates, as well as longer payback terms and competitive interest rates. The average incentive in 2016 was $3,341, compared with $2,912 for the year before, according to Kelley Blue Book.
Whether that continues this year may depend on how much dealers have to hustle to win customers. On the one hand, sellers may be motivated because demand is expected to decline. Some analysts suspect that consumers who were holding off on big purchases during the recession may have already turned the key. The Federal Reserve is also expected to increase interest rates, which could mean less attractive financing terms. (That may not happen, however, if automakers try to stay competitive, analysts note.)
There are other factors at play as well. Job growth and the stock market have been strong, which automakers hope will give consumers the confidence to spend. President-elect Donald Trump has talked about rolling back regulation, cutting corporate taxes and investing in infrastructure - all would be a boon for the auto business. In short: You'll still have to negotiate. Hard.
Send in the millennials
They're at it again. The supposedly narcissistic, entitled generation that everyone loves to hate is shaking up the car industry as much as anything else. Automakers are starting to develop their own ride-hailing and sharing services because some young urbanites don't want to own cars. Ford will expand its minibus ride-sharing program, called Chariot, to eight cities by the end of the year.
But millennials are actually buying cars. A J.D. Power survey from last year found they made up 28 percent of the new car market - and that share will probably grow as the generation born in the 1980s and '90s comes of age. Companies have begun tailoring vehicles to their tastes.
Fiat Chrysler introduced a concept minivan, called Portal, that could come to market within the next few years. It aims to be the millennial's minivan. Among its features: the ability for multiple occupants to plug in their devices and share music, video, pictures and other content. It will also use face and voice recognition to identify passengers and remember their personal preferences.
"Millennials are seeking practical and functional products that provide capability and a sense of personal style," Fiat Chrysler said. "As a result, they want a vehicle that can be upgraded as their lives change, and they expect seamless integration of technology in and out of the vehicle, including to home and other devices."
---
1. Autonomous driving
Your vehicle is likely to help you on the road - but it's a good way off from taking the wheel.
2. Crossovers
It looks like a sport-utility vehicle but drives like a car - and it's most likely what you'll buy.
3. Big data in the car
Your car and your smartphone are starting to have a lot in common - data collection is just one thing.
4. Even more electric vehicles
The options in the electric vehicle market are growing fast, but will people actually buy them?
5. Let's make a deal
Dealers are hustling - and offering big incentives - to win customers. Will it last?
My flight from San Francisco to Taipei was delayed, and painfully so. My eyes were bloodshot, my long, black hair already matted, and I was only a quarter of the way to my destination. Warily, I glanced at my text messages.
Aren't you going to Taiwan? Did you hear about the phone call?
What luck. Just as I was Taiwan-bound, on a seven-day trip with a group of fellow unwashed-writer types, the 13,000-square-mile dollop of an island where I was headed was suddenly on everyone's lips.
I raised my eyes to the nearest TV and quickly caught myself up. The news channels were buzzing about a 10-minute chitchat between the president-elect of the United States, Donald Trump, and Taiwanese President Tsai Ing-wen. It wouldn't seem like much but for the fact that no American president or president-elect had taken a call from Taipei in nearly 40 years. To do so would be an affront to China.
This particular president-elect not only spoke to Taiwan, but he had tweeted all about it.
Spent, I decided to send a few texts, board and sleep for the bulk of the flight. The fellowship that had dispatched me to Taiwan encouraged me to learn about whatever I wanted. And what I wanted to do was eat.
For a tiny place, Taiwan's novelty-filled food culture has an almost gravitational pull over the American diner. Taiwanese American kids in Southern California snack on fried squid at homegrown night markets; a chef, Eddie Huang, slings bao - doughy buns filled with various meats and vegetables - and Taiwanese sodas in New York and Los Angeles. Bubble tea, a milky, sweet drink laden with gummy tapioca "pearls" the size of marbles, hails from this place, too, though now it's almost as ubiquitous in such places as Rockville, Md.
I was Taiwan-bound for stinky tofu, not for a whiff of international brinkmanship.
It quickly dawned on me that politics and Taiwan's delicate dance with China pervade everything here, from the conversation to the cuisine.
Everyone we met paused before speaking carefully about Taiwan. Is Taiwan a nation? (No.) Does it have an embassy? (No, not quite.) Is its democratically elected president actually a president? (Er, debatable, but this publication often uses "leader.")
Beijing and Taipei are, for better or worse, bound, the product of the one-China policy, which recognizes the two governments as one - or, rather, recognizes only China's as legitimate.
Which is why, for decades, American presidents have pretended that Taiwan doesn't exist. And why, for two generations, Taiwan has shuddered under China's yoke.
Szu-chien Hsu, the gleefully frank head of the Taiwan Foundation for Democracy, has a notion about why the Trump Call, as it has come to be known here, made Taiwanese hearts (and Tsai's approval ratings) leap.
"We have this feeling," he says, "that we've been forgotten by the world."
The morning after my arrival, I sat down to a life-affirming Chinese breakfast of sweet black soybeans, the Chinese cruller known as an oil stick, taro bun and approximately four versions of tofu, and I begin to feel more charitable.
Around me, I noticed banyan trees, with their artfully tangled trunks, dotting every patch of green, and my ears were abuzz with the high-register squeeee of passing motorbikes. Pastel pops of cuteness - saucer-eyed cartoon figures plastered onto the sides of buses, pet hotels, blinking neon pinwheels - reached out and hugged me from across this landscape of glass and steel.
It looked like any urban East Asian nation. But muggy, perennially gray-skied Taiwan is unique in ways that aren't readily apparent.
Passed like a hot potato from the Dutch to the Japanese to, finally, China, Taiwan has developed a culture that is a jumble of a half-dozen influences, including that of the Han Chinese, who make up the largest ethnic group here. There is also a tiny indigenous population - which, I learn from Lishan Chang, of the U.S.-based Taipei Economic and Cultural Representative Office, has more in common with Polynesians than with the Chinese. (The president, who took office in May, proudly touts her indigenous family roots.)
All this cultural wire-crossing plays out in a dozen ways, including in the food, particularly what fills the island's Las Vegas-like night markets and its streetside stands.
Thanks to Taiwanese Americans, I'm already familiar with some of Taiwan's delicacies, many of them novelties.
Among them: xiao long bao, the two-in-one culinary nuggets that the Taiwanese would claim as their own. Dumplings with a center that bursts with meaty soup, they're the specialty of Din Tai Fung, the island's famous chain.
As our car pulled to a halt outside the restaurant's downtown Taipei location on Xinyi Road and we ambled out into the sea of humanity, it's apparent that a soup-dumpling pilgrimage hadn't occurred only to us. Blissfully, we're called pretty swiftly - the promise of dumplings has a way of blurring the passage of time - and soon we were clambering up a narrow set of steps, past a picture window that reveals what must be Din Tai Fung's secret: a sea of professional dumpling-pinchers, all men, cloaked in all white - including masks - sealing and steaming with surgical precision.
Settled into our seats at this jumbo jet of a restaurant, we were instantly approached by a fawning fleet of graceful server-stewardesses, their collars fastened firmly with bow-ties, their hair slicked flat into sleek buns. I asked in English what offerings were vegetarian, and despite the language barrier - the people here speak mostly Chinese - our stewardess smiled warmly. Shortly, a plate of bean curd appeared, drizzled in sesame oil and sliced so thinly that it resembled noodles. It was followed by warm fried rice dotted with vegetables and an artfully arranged bed of actual noodles, fresh and warm and swimming in a pond of liquefied sesame seeds. The meat eaters, of course, got the real variety show: drunken chicken (which looks raw but, I'm told later, was just prepared in a way that spotlights the quality of the meat), shrimp-capped shumai and, of course, bamboo vessels the size of hubcaps bearing steaming xiao long bao.
The journalist next to me wiped his brow. Feasting is work.
I'm on a stinky-tofu hunt. A cousin who travels widely in Asia for work assured me that this is the holy grail of Taiwanese eating, the thing I needed to snarf down only so I might brag about it later, like a contestant on "Fear Factor."
My group was fresh off a remarkably easy, 40-minute trip to Taichung, in the center of the island, on the Taiwan high-speed rail. We spent the night at the too-cool-for-school Red Dot Hotel, where guests can take a slide down into the lobby and the elevators light up like a rave. I located the espresso maker in my room and nearly squealed with joy. As I climbed into my huge bed with perfect sheets and traditional Hakka floral-print headboard, I pledged to never leave.
The next day, of course, I did, albeit grudgingly. We decided on dinner at one of the island's massive eating-and-shopping bacchanals, Feng Chia Night Market, among the largest night markets in Taichung, a city with more than 10 such bazaars.
The youth population in Taiwan is dwindling markedly as couples delay marriage and put off or forgo having children, but at the night markets, youthful energy bubbles. At the maze-like Feng Chia, street after street lights up with the neon glow of food stalls hawking delicious junk food, including bubble tea, liquid nitrogen ice cream and shaved ice, German pig knuckles, taro pancakes, oysters and Japanese-style fried squid. This market alone rakes in 11 billion Taiwanese dollars a year, says Tristan Liu, director of Taichung's Economic Development Bureau.
Woven into the deep-fried tapestry are carnival games and toy shops, stands with trendy cellphone cases and Goth T-shirts, all for the pleasure of the gaggles of kids who come here to roam, snack and find new ways to spend their parents' money.
I pestered our young American-born translator, Isabelle, to find me my storied tofu.
The stink - like I had placed damp hockey equipment and gym clothes from a Bikram yoga session and cheese into a gym bag and left it in a warm, wet cave for a few months - found me first.
The name "stinky tofu," you all should know, doesn't begin to relay how malevolent this Chinese street-food delicacy actually is.
As quickly as I stuffed one piece of the fried tofu into my mouth, my face involuntarily shriveled and my nose filled with a sour, foul, unfamiliar funk. Determined not to be felled by perfectly innocent-looking tofu, steeped in a primordial stew of milk, greens and other mystery ingredients so fermented they are verging on spoiled, I took another bite, just as I might try bench-pressing 80 pounds. "I just don't inhale," I declared to my companions. I popped one more piece to prove I'm a woman of emotional toughness.
The rest I passed to Isabelle, who adores stinky tofu, to polish off while I purchased every snack in sight to erase its taste from my tongue. Rosewater bubble tea with lemons from one stand, scallion pancake fried into the shape of a dog bone from another, foot-long french fries with wasabi mayo from another.
I woke up in the middle of the night burning with fever. I popped two Advil and passed the time until I fell back asleep cursing the soybean, myself, my ego, all of it.
I rose a little blurry, but we made it back to Taipei, where we squeezed in a visit to one of the city's oldest neighborhoods, Dadaocheng. The attractions included the small Lin Liu-Hsin Puppet Theatre Museum, which highlights the art of puppet making and performance, curiously revered there. Peeking down from the museum's rooftop, I was more interested in the architectural hodgepodge below.
In Taiwan, modern buildings abut utilitarian shacks capped with aluminum roofs, while the pagoda-like lines of the mega-building Taipei 101 looms over everything here, including the mountains. (Taiwan is mountainous; locals I talked with told me, without pausing, that hiking was their favorite pastime. And just outside the capital, hot springs also beckon.)
If the city's skyline looks clapped together, that's because it was, Robin Ruizendaal, director of the museum, told me. A native of Holland, Ruizendaal has been in Taiwan for 20 years and is as fluent in its history as he is in the Mandarin spoken widely here.
As China's Cultural Revolution began, mainlanders arrived on this quiet island like a tsunami, flooding Taipei - on the northernmost tip of the island - and other large cities with more than 2 million new residents between 1946 and 1949 alone.
Urban planning? Ruizendaal smirked. Who had time for such a luxury?
Along with all the people pouring into Taiwan in the late 1940s, there was something else: crates.
And so, on the last day of our trip, our bus sputtered up the winding road to Taipei's National Palace Museum, which has since 1965 been the resting place of many of China's most treasured ancient paintings, delicate scrolls and verdant jade objects.
How these artifacts from the Ming, Qing and other eras of Chinese imperial history came to be berthed here, rather than on the vast mainland, is a tale as circuitous as the museum road itself.
But the crucial stuff is this: As the Japanese Imperial Army bore down on China in the 1940s, the country's treasures were packed up and hidden away for safekeeping. Just a handful of years later, with the Japanese banished and the Cultural Revolution and communism taking root, ousted Chinese leader Chiang Kai-shek absconded to Taiwan with his army and government, the Kuomintang - and the great wonders of China.
Now, because so many Chinese tourists arrive in Taiwan to gaze these debatably stolen treasures, we were warned that the lines at the museum could be formidable. Instead, the crowds were rather thin, and we managed to see Qing dynasty porcelain bowls painted with chrysanthemums in jewel-toned enamels, and peer through a magnifying glass at "Carved Olive-Stone Boat," an olive pit sliced and diced to resemble a tiny boat, complete with people inside. The Jadeite Cabbage, a masterpiece of forest-green jade carved into the shape of a bok choy, was behind glass at the center of a maze of velvet ropes holding back no lines at all. We walked right up.
Tension between China and Taiwan was high in 2016, and after the election of Tsai, China placed a chokehold on some tourism from the mainland to the island, explaining the dearth of visitors at the museum. As we debarked from the galleries, and from Taiwan the next morning, the Trump Call was still burning in our ears.
I wondered what was next in this strange relationship that these two governments and their people share. Because these days, China and its neighbor to the south are not feeling like one at all.
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Where to eat
Din Tai Fung
Various locations across Taiwan
dintaifungusa.com
Plan on waiting for a table at this soup-dumpling mainstay - a major tourist attraction. Dumplings start at about $5 per order.
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Feng Chia Market
Xitun District, Taichung
travel.taichung.gov.tw
Night markets sprung up in Taiwan as the island went through a prosperous period of development during the Cold War; the markets emerged to feed construction workers as they clocked out for the day. To this day, food remains the focus. Feng Chia is Taichung's biggest night market; be sure to bring plenty of cash, particularly small bills, because snacks start at $1.
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Information
eng.taiwan.net.tw
Donald Trump will enter the White House with a network of unorthodox foreign contacts - some of them high-living risk-takers, some with past trouble with the law - who have done business with him in nations from Latin America to the Middle East to Asia.
Several of Trump's foreign business partners have been investigated for financial improprieties, and some of them were required to pay large fines or settlements. Others were relatively inexperienced local developers who had major economic problems with their risky, Trump-branded mega-projects. Trump has also worked with businessmen with close connections to authoritarian governments.
Ethics lawyers have raised concerns about whether some of the Trump family's overseas alliances could raise conflicts of interest for the incoming president or tie the White House to questionable characters.
"A businessman can deal with these types of businesspeople and hopefully be smart enough not to get sucked in or be taken advantage of," said Richard Painter, chief White House ethics lawyer under President George W. Bush and a vocal critic of Trump. "But when you move into public service as president of the United States, these are exactly the types of business entanglements you have to dispose of."
Washington Post correspondents in nine countries reviewed the records of many of those whom Trump and his family have worked with on foreign real estate, golf and hotel projects. Like Trump, some are outspoken and larger-than-life characters with a taste for glitz and Rolls-Royces. A couple of them have also jumped from business into politics - one has a plan to "make Mumbai great again" and another said he intends to run for president of Indonesia.
Trump will be the first U.S. president who has built a fortune by turning himself into a global business brand, and his constellation of foreign contacts is unique. Many previous presidents had cultivated networks of diplomats, political leaders, military officers, intelligence officials and dissidents before entering the White House. But Trump's overseas partners have been primarily businessmen looking to make a profit using his name.
Trump on Wednesday announced a plan to shift his assets into a trust managed by his sons and a longtime employee and turn over operation of his business to them. The Trump Organization said it will also avoid any new foreign deals during his presidency. But Trump will still own the business, and concerns remain that policies he pursues in office could affect the value of his family's holdings.
Alan Garten, the Trump Organization's general counsel, declined to comment specifically on the Trump partners reviewed by The Washington Post. But he said that any with blemishes on their records are not "reflective of the portfolio as a whole," which includes business dealings in at least 18 countries.
He also said the organization conducts thorough "due diligence" background checks on partners.
"The company does not engage in transactions that they're not comfortable with at the time," Garten said. "There's always been close vetting and extensive diligence performed. I think going forward, vetting will be more intensive because it's a much different situation now."
Since his election, Trump has met with several of his foreign partners, raising questions about their continued relationship once he is in the White House. Trump representatives have described the meetings as social calls.
Hussain Sajwani, the Trump company's billionaire partner in Dubai, and his family attended a New Year's Eve celebration at Trump's Mar-a-Lago resort in Florida, according to a video obtained by CNN.
On Wednesday, Trump said at a news conference that Sajwani's company, Damac Properties, offered him $2 billion this month to do new deals in Dubai - deals Trump said he rejected, even though "I didn't have to turn it down."
Sajwani, whom Trump described as "a very, very amazing man," has had legal trouble in the past. He was convicted and sentenced to five years in prison on corruption-related charges in Egypt in 2011 over a real estate deal. He fought the conviction in an international arbitration court, eventually paying a fine of about $15 million, and the conviction was canceled, according to a lawyer involved in the case and Egyptian media reports.
"That's why he [Trump] has got to divest from his business," Painter said after the news conference. "We can't have the president have these kinds of business contacts all over the world."
Many of Trump's partners operate in developing economies where bribery is common and ethical lines between business and government are not as sharply drawn as they are in the United States.
F. Joseph Warin, a former federal prosecutor and specialist on the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act at the Gibson Dunn law firm in Washington, said that having foreign partners who had trouble with the law could be dangerous for any U.S. company, since a repeat of that behavior could potentially put an American company in violation of U.S. law. And there is even greater risk for an entrepreneur who becomes president.
"Presidents must be ethically pristine, and associating with business partners with unsavory pasts diminishes the president's reputation," Warin said.
Michael D'Antonio, author of "Never Enough," a Trump biography, said his research into Trump's life and career suggests that even as president, Trump will be willing to reject traditional ways of doing things.
"He's not that concerned about the usual definitions of conflict of interest or disqualifying backgrounds," D'Antonio said. "If there's advantage in it for him to partner with unsavory characters, he'll do it."
Trump has noted that he is not legally required as president to divest from his private business holdings. He has also said that voters were well aware that he had a global business.
In recent weeks, however, Trump has announced that he is pulling out of two of his most controversial foreign projects: a Brazil hotel and a hotel in Azerbaijan, the former Soviet republic with a famously kleptocratic and repressive government.
In Azerbaijan, Trump partnered with Anar Mammadov, 35, whose companies have profited from more than a billion dollars' worth of transportation and construction contracts by the Transportation Ministry, run by his father, according to investigations by media organizations and an anti-corruption watchdog group.
Human rights activists have voiced concern about Trump dealing with a man so closely linked to a government the State Department has criticized for "corruption and predatory behavior by politically connected elites."
Before he ended the relationship recently, Trump had earned at least $2.8 million from the project since January 2014 - even though the hotel has never opened - according to his financial disclosure forms.
Trump ended his hotel deal in Brazil amid a federal investigation into potential bribery involving his local partners. Trump Organization officials have said their company was not a target of that investigation. No charges have been filed in the case.
Here are closer looks at some of Trump's overseas business partners:
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DUBAI
Hussain Sajwani
Age: 60
Primary business/industry: Real estate
Affiliated with Trump: Since at least 2013
BEIRUT - Hussain Sajwani's company, Damac Properties, features some of the glitziest residential real estate in Dubai, selling apartments decked out in Versace furnishings and giving away Lamborghinis to buyers of multimillion-dollar homes.
All the bling contrasts with the 60-year-old billionaire's humble beginnings. Sajwani is the son of a Dubai shopkeeper and built his fortune from scratch.
Sajwani started a catering company that served U.S. forces during the Persian Gulf War. He then founded Damac in 2002, jumping into Dubai's booming real estate market.
Now Sajwani is the Middle East's highest-profile business partner of the Trump Organization, with Damac teaming up with the Trump family company on two golf courses in Dubai. Weeks after Trump's election, Damac announced plans for new villas on its Trump-affiliated, $6 billion Akoya residential development.
Sajwani recently attended a large New Year's Eve party at Trump's Mar-a-Lago Florida resort, where the president-elect praised him and his family as "the most wonderful people," according to a video of the speech obtained by CNN.
Then on Wednesday, at his first news conference since the election, Trump said Damac this month offered him $2 billion to do a new deal in Dubai - one Trump said he turned down.
Like his American partner, Sajwani is no stranger to controversy.
In 2011, an Egyptian court sentenced him in absentia to five years in jail after he was convicted of corruption-related charges involving Damac's 2006 purchase of land near Egypt's Red Sea coast. Sajwani responded by suing Egypt before an international arbitration court. The two sides eventually reached a settlement, with the prison sentence dropped and Sajwani paying a fine equivalent to about $15 million, said Sherief Mahmoud, a lawyer who represented another defendant in the case. Sajwani's conviction was canceled, according to Egyptian media.
In April, an investigation by Vice News found that migrant laborers working for a subcontractor at one of Damac's Trump-affiliated golf courses were housed in squalid accommodations. It quoted the men as saying they received less pay than promised and had to turn over their passports to their employer.
Poor treatment of foreign laborers is common in Dubai, analysts said. The Trump Organization told Vice that it did not employ the construction workers but had "zero tolerance" for unlawful labor practices. No formal complaints were filed against Damac or Trump by the workers.
Still, the situation raises the possibility of a U.S. president backing a foreign project where workers' rights are abused.
"It's very difficult for anybody to operate ethically in an environment like that, in a place that facilitates appalling abuses that include effective slavery," said Nicholas McGeehan, a researcher at Human Rights Watch who focuses on Persian Gulf countries. "Anybody with a reputation to protect should be very wary of that."
Damac did not respond to requests for comment.
Sajwani appeared in a white, flowing Gulf-Arab robe at the October opening of Trump's new hotel in Washington. He has talked about Damac expanding into the U.S. market.
He was elated by Trump's victory the following month, telling CNN: "No question in the last 12 months, his brand became stronger and more global. I think it will have a positive impact on sales."
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Hugh Naylor
Heba Mahfouz in Cairo contributed to this report.
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INDONESIA
Hary Tanoesoedibjo
Age: 51
Affiliated with Trump: Since at least 2016
Primary business/industry: Media (television)
JAKARTA, Indonesia - An investigator for the Indonesian attorney general's office started receiving alarming text messages in January of last year, when he was looking into possible tax fraud at a telecommunications company.
"We will eventually prove who is wrong and who is right, who is a professional and who is a thug," one message said, denouncing what it called abusive law enforcement officers. It continued, "I will lead this country, and that is when Indonesia will be swept clean."
The investigator filed suit against the man who sent the texts, billionaire media executive and politician Hary Tanoesoedibjo, who owned the company at the time of the alleged fraud.
In an interview, Tanoesoedibjo, who ran for vice president in 2014, said he had been frustrated with federal authorities because, he felt, they were engaged in politically motivated "character assassination" due to the fact that "my popularity is very high now."
The blunt talk and combative stance - Tanoesoedibjo wound up countersuing the investigator for alleged defamation - are typical of the super-rich Indonesian entrepreneur, who is Donald Trump's business partner on two huge projects in Indonesia: a luxury resort on the island of Bali and a golf resort near the capital city of Jakarta that Tanoesoedibjo said were worth more than $500 million.
Tanoesoedibjo says he plans to fly to New York for business meetings with Trump family members then on to Washington for Trump's inauguration.
Tanoesoedibjo, 51, commonly known in Indonesia as Hary Tanoe, said he and Trump have a lot in common. Both are billionaire businessmen turned politicians, and both entered politics because they "want to do something" for their country, Tanoesoedibjo said.
And like Trump, the Indonesian billionaire organizes beauty pageants, has a taste for Rolls-Royces and Twitter, and admires Russian leader Vladimir Putin. In a 2014 interview with the Financial Times, Tanoesoedibjo said Putin "is very strong, very firm. We have to admire the way he's turned around Russia."
Tanoesoedibjo formed his own political party last year and said he is planning to run for president in 2019. That could create an awkward situation for President Trump: A candidate for leader of the world's most populous Muslim nation would be his family's business partner.
Tanoesoedibjo gained much of his wealth in the aftermath of the Asian financial crisis of the late 1990s, when he bought up distressed companies and turned them around. He acquired and developed many of the country's largest media properties, and his MNC Group dominates Indonesian television. He is known for his aggressiveness.
"He doesn't collect friends - he collects enemies," said a former media executive who used to work under Tanoesoedibjo, speaking on the condition of anonymity fearing reprisals from a powerful former boss.
In 2013, Indonesia's highest court decided that a TV station he owns was unlawfully taken from the station's founder, Siti Hardijanti Rukmana, and that the shares should be returned. Tanoesoedibjo has refused to turn over the shares. In the interview, he said he is not liable and that he purchased the shares from a holding company rather than Siti directly.
Muhammad Jarman, a representative of the station's founder, said at the time, "We have continued to wait, but he hasn't been the example of a good citizen."
In the more recent case, involving the telecommunications company, Tanoesoedibjo has said he was not involved with any possible fraud at the firm. He has faced no charges.
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Jon Emont
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CANADA
Tony Tiah Thee Kian
Age: 70
Time affiliated with Trump: Since 2013
Primary business/industry: Finance and real estate (Malaysia)
OTTAWA - Tony Tiah Thee Kian, a leading Malaysian businessman, pleaded guilty in 2002 to submitting a false report to the Malaysian stock exchange. He was fined $783,000, forced to quit as chief executive of his financial firm and barred from corporate boardrooms for five years, according to media reports about a case that was headline news in the Southeast Asian nation.
Now Tiah - a self-described "visionary" and evangelical Christian who says he consults with God on investment decisions - and his family are business partners with President-elect Donald Trump's company in a flashy hotel in Vancouver, B.C., that will open soon after Trump's Jan. 20 inauguration.
Members of the Trump family are expected to travel to the booming Canadian city to officially open the Trump International Hotel & Tower, a 63-story, $270 million building consisting of a 147-room hotel topped by 217 luxury condominiums.
The Vancouver project was developed by two firms run by Tony Tiah and his family, although the entrepreneur's 37-year-old son, Joo Kim, has led the effort. Trump has licensed his name to the project and the Trump Organization will manage the hotel, but the president-elect has no ownership stake.
At 70, Tony Tiah is the same age as Trump, and he has built a reputation in Malaysia for the kind of braggadocio for which his fellow real estate developer is famous. And like Trump, he has also been successful in business, building Malaysia's largest retail brokerage firm, TA Enterprise, in the 1990s.
Tiah's legal trouble initially involved charges that he helped a businessman defraud Omega Securities, a midsize brokerage firm, of millions of dollars in a complex series of transactions. He ultimately pleaded guilty to one charge of providing a false report to the stock exchange, according to numerous media reports.
The case was part of a broader government effort to crack down on corporate crime at a time when Malaysia was dubbed the "Wild West of stockbroking." But some media reports said the campaign appeared to target business executives such as Tiah who had ties to a leading figure in the political opposition.
"Tony Tiah is a businessman who is operating in a country where the lines between business and politics can often be blurred, what is ethical or not can often be blurred," said Ong Kian Ming, a member of Parliament with the opposition Democratic Action Party.
When Tiah returned to TA Enterprise's board in 2009, he had lost none of his self-confidence.
"Without Tony Tiah, there is no TA," he told the Malaysia Star. "My wife is good at operations. I am the visionary one."
Requests for comment from Tiah's firm and his son were not answered. Asked in May about his father's conviction, Joo Kim told Vancouver's Province newspaper that the case involved "an oversight in reporting certain wrong information to the stock exchange. . . . Subsequently my father was fined and the case was closed."
Tony Tiah has promised to hand over the reins of the business to Joo Kim, a graduate of Oral Roberts University, but he is clearly reluctant to bow out completely.
While his son is chief executive for the companies involved in the Vancouver project, Tiah remains as nonexecutive chairman of TA Enterprise while his wife, Alicia Tiah, is chief executive.
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Alan Freeman
Jonathan Emont in Jakarta contributed to this report.
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DOMINICAN REPUBLIC
Ricardo Hazoury
Age: 56
Primary business/industry: Real estate
Time affiliated with Trump: 2007 to 2013
PUNTA CANA, Dominican Republic - Ricardo Hazoury had whipped up a frenzy of anticipation. On a Caribbean cliff top with views of pristine beaches and a PGA Tour-quality golf course, the developer planned to erect dozens of mansions, a Donald Trump-branded cocoon of luxury inside his resort city that was already larger than Manhattan.
In the weeks before the May 2007 sales event for Trump Farallon Estates, Hazoury and his siblings hosted parties and dinners, serving champagne and lobster. Billboards went up in Times Square.
Trump, who licensed his name to the project, flew down to glad-hand. He said he was attracted to Cap Cana because of the "combination of land, nature and the union with Ricardo Hazoury," according to an account that year in a business publication.
Hazoury, a local developer who had never built anything approaching the scale of the "The World's New Great Destination," made clients pay a $100,000 deposit just to secure a chance to buy lots that cost as much as $12 million, according to two purchasers. That first day the Dominican company recorded more than $300 million in sales, according to Hazoury.
"I have never seen better marketing than what they did," recalled one buyer, who spoke on the condition of anonymity fearing trouble with the Hazoury family. "I take off my hat. They are masters." But ultimately, he said, he and others lost millions in the deal.
The world financial crisis in 2008 hit Cap Cana like an "economic tsunami," Hazoury would later say. Financing dried up. Property values plummeted. The Hazourys, and many of the buyers, could not pay their debts. As Hazoury's brother Fernando wrote in a 2009 letter to Trump's son Eric that became public in court papers, the project's finances were "precarious on the best of days and more akin to bungee jumping."
Trump's organization sued Cap Cana in 2012, accusing the company of owing him $14 million. The two sides settled for an amount that wasn't disclosed. Dozens of other people are now suing the firm for alleged fraud, saying that promised amenities were never delivered.
Hazoury, 56, said some who lost money unfairly blamed the company instead of the financial crisis. "We continue to have an incredible business relationship with the Trumps," he said in a statement, adding that he hoped to do additional deals with the family.
Before the Cap Cana calamity, the Hazourys, Dominicans of Lebanese descent, were mostly associated with education. Hazoury's father was a renowned endocrinologist who founded the national diabetes institute and a private university.
The family, which also has a construction company and concrete business, started Cap Cana next to the popular resort of Punta Cana on the eastern tip of the country. Their glitzy project put the family on the map in a hurry.
Photos show Hazoury mingling with the elite, grinning with current and former Dominican presidents and celebrities such as baseball star Sammy Sosa.
The resort has made a slow recovery. The PGA Champions tour no longer plays at the Jack Nicklaus-designed golf course, but other duffers do. A new polo grounds opened last year. Snoop Dogg performed there last month.
Dozens of the Trump lots have been repossessed. The land where the estates were supposed to stand is a barren cliff top, overgrown with weeds.
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Joshua Partlow
Gabriela Martinez in Mexico City contributed to this report.
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INDIA
Mangal Prabhat Lodha
Age: 61
Primary business/industry: Real estate developer and politician
Time affiliated with Trump: Since 2013
NEW DELHI - Mangal Prabhat Lodha is a state legislator who favors wrinkled shirts over fancy suits. He is also a billionaire who has been accused of wielding his political clout to help his real estate development business, one of India's largest.
A rival politician in Lodha's party was caught on video in 2015 explaining how Lodha flexes his political muscle. The colleague, Raj Purohit, said that most developers use bribes to try to keep their permits moving through local government offices.
"But if Lodha's file is stuck," Purohit said in the video, "he goes there and says: 'I am a [state legislator]. Who is delaying my file?' " He later claimed the video, posted to YouTube, was doctored. Lodha denied any improper business practices.
Lodha, 61, is widely admired for building the Lodha Group, one of Mumbai's most successful real estate development companies, from scratch. But in 2011 the company was swept up in a $30 million tax-evasion case, court records show.
Now Lodha and his family are partners with the Trump Organization in a soaring, gold-facade Trump Tower that is rising in Mumbai. The 75-story building will have 400 residences and amenities such as a private jet service for residents when it is completed in 2018, the company said.
Lodha and his two sons are often compared to the Trump family, with one newspaper calling Lodha "Donald Trump - minus the flash." Like Trump, the Indian billionaire is a workaholic teetotaler. His website touts a plan for "making Mumbai great again."
Lodha was first elected in 1995 as a state legislator from the now-governing Bharatiya Janata Party, of which he is vice president in his state, and his personal wealth has grown alongside his political power.
Forbes now estimates the elder Lodha's personal fortune at $1.6 billion. His two sons took over daily management of the company in 2003.
A company spokesman declined to make Lodha or his son Abhishek, who runs the day-to-day operations of the business, available for interviews.
Lodha is well known in his community for supporting temples and health-care clinics and giving every child about $150 when he or she passes 10th-grade exams.
But his conservative, Hindu-nationalist political views have sometimes caused controversy. He has supported legislation that limits religious conversions and proselytizing.
In 2011, an investigation by Indian tax authorities found that the Lodha Group had about $30 million in untaxed income, coming from the sale of parking spaces, cash interest on loans and sale of scrap from construction sites, court documents show.
The company was eventually asked to pay a fine of about $1 million and settled the tax bill for an amount that wasn't disclosed, court records show. A Lodha spokeswoman, speaking on the condition of anonymity, declined to comment on the case, saying it was "old" and was not related to the Trump project.
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Annie Gowen and Rama Lakshmi
Lakshmi reported from Mumbai. Swati Gupta contributed to this report.
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TURKEY
Mehmet Ali Yalcindag
Age: 52
Primary business/industry: Media and real estate development
Time affiliated with Trump: Since at least 2012
ISTANBUL - In 2012, Donald Trump and his daughter Ivanka celebrated the opening of the Trump Towers in Istanbul, two soaring, scissor-like buildings with apartments, offices and upscale shops.
In pictures in the local news media, the Trumps appeared smitten with the city and their business partners in Istanbul, posing with them wearing 3-D glasses at the cinema and in evening wear on a deck looking over the Bosphorus.
"They've really become beyond partners," Trump said of the Dogan family, which licensed the Trump name for the towers. "They've become very good friends."
Now that friendship has become politically delicate, with Trump shifting roles from real estate entrepreneur to president and preparing to navigate relations with an increasingly authoritarian Turkish government that has had a fraught relationship with the powerful business clan.
Mehmet Ali Yalcindag, 52, has been the face of Dogan Holding's partnership with the Trump Organization. He is one of Turkey's most prominent business leaders, along with his wife, Arzuhan Dogan Yalcindag, a former Dogan Holding chief executive.
For a time, Mehmet Yalcindag directed editorial policy for Dogan's media holdings, which include some of Turkey's most influential independent outlets. But he was forced to step down last year when emails released by a hacker group appeared to show Yalcindag currying favor with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, as well as coordinating with the head of a rival, pro-government media conglomerate.
In one email, he suggested that an anchor with CNN Turk - one of his own employees - was an "enemy" of the government and detailed his efforts to rein in the anchor. Yalcindag has denied sending the emails, according to Turkish media.
More recently, Yalcindag has positioned himself as an intermediary between Trump and Erdogan, who has a tense relationship with Washington.
In November, Yalcindag was a topic of conversation between Erdogan and the U.S. president-elect, according to Amberin Zaman, a Turkish journalist and public-policy fellow at the Washington-based Woodrow Wilson Center who broke the news of the call.
Serious matters were discussed, including Erdogan's concerns about the Islamic State and Kurdish militants, Zaman wrote in Diken, an independent news outlet in Turkey. Trump also praised his business partners, including Yalcindag and his billionaire father-in-law, Aydin Dogan, the founder of Dogan Holding.
Yalcindag is a "good friend," Trump said, while assuring Erdogan that the Turkish businessman was a "big fan of yours," according to Zaman.
Yalcindag did not answer emailed questions about his relationship with Trump.
Dogan has had a more troubled relationship with Turkey's president than that of his son-in-law, stemming in part from critical coverage of Erdogan in some of his group's news outlets. Turkish authorities have levied hefty fines on Dogan, including a $2.5 billion penalty for unpaid taxes sent to Dogan Media Group in 2009. That fine drew criticism from the European Union and international press groups.
During his campaign, Trump acknowledged the sensitivities about the Istanbul towers. "I have a little conflict of interest, because I have a major, major building in Istanbul," Trump said in a radio interview with Stephen Bannon, then the chief of Breitbart media site and now a close adviser.
During the interview, Bannon raised the issue of what American voters might think about Trump's potential conflict.
"They say: 'Hey look, this guy's got vested business interests all over the world. How do I know he's going to stand up to Turkey?' " Bannon said.
Trump did not directly address the question.
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Erin Cunningham and Kareen Fahim
Fahim reported from Cairo.
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RUSSIA
Aras and Emin Agalarov
Ages: Father, 61; son, 37
Industry: Real estate developers. Emin is also a pop-music star.
Time affiliated with Trump: Since 2013
MOSCOW - A week after Vladimir Putin awarded him a medal for service to Russia, billionaire developer Aras Agalarov was trying to broker a meeting between Putin and Donald Trump.
It was November 2013, and Agalarov had paid $14 million to stage the Trump-owned Miss Universe pageant, which Trump had flown in to personally oversee. Agalarov knew Trump admired the Russian president, so he spoke to Kremlin contacts to set up a meeting.
Putin canceled at the last minute, but Agalarov said the Russian leader sent Trump a "friendly letter" and an elegant lacquer box.
With the meeting off, Agalarov and his son, Emin Agalarov, a pop star who is also an executive in the family real estate company, treated Trump to a taste of Moscow's famed nightlife, hitting parties in an armored Mercedes stretch limousine, the Agalarovs said in an interview last year.
The Agalarovs and Trump had first met each other a few months earlier at the Trump hotel in Las Vegas, after Emin Agalarov hired a Miss Universe winner to appear in one of his music videos.
That led to plans to bring the pageant to Moscow, a coup for the Agalarovs, who have said their fortune began humbly, with Aras Agalarov selling bootlegged videotapes.
On his visit to Moscow, Trump demonstrated his friendship with his new Russian pals by appearing in one of Emin's music videos. On a set that looked like "The Apprentice," Trump played himself while Emin daydreamed about bikini-clad pageant contestants until Trump finally told him, "You're fired."
"He really did me a favor by being in the video," Emin Agalarov said in the joint interview with his father earlier this year.
Perhaps most importantly, the Agalarovs said, they and Trump started talking about bringing the Trump brand to Russia. Trump and his family have been talking about building a Trump Tower in Russia since the waning years of the Cold War.
In the Agalarovs, Trump appeared to have found potential partners who shared his fondness for the massive. The Agalarovs' Crocus City complex on the outskirts of Moscow features a huge concert venue, Russia's largest movie theater and a giant shopping mall called Vegas.
And like Trump, Aras Agalarov loved to put his name on his creations.
"I convinced my father it would be cool to have next to each other the Trump Tower and Agalarov Tower," Emin Agalarov said.
Those plans never got off the ground, due mainly to Russia's crashing economy. The Agalarovs still hope it happens, and at the Crocus site, one muddy field is still reserved for a Trump Tower.
Months before the election, Aras Agalarov said he worried that if Trump won, U.S. conflict-of-interest laws could put a damper on his overseas business ventures.
But Emin said he thought President Trump would be great for U.S.-Russia relations: "He thinks America, instead of fighting Russia, should bond and be friends. . . . This could be an amazing breakthrough if he becomes president and actually becomes friends with Putin."
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Michael Birnbaum
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PANAMA
Roger Khafif
Age: 61
Primary business/industry: Real estate developer
Time affiliated with Trump: Since 2005
PANAMA CITY - Roger Khafif's sleek yacht bobbed gently at anchor in the bay, in front of the gleaming 70-story hotel that Donald Trump's name helped him build.
Fifteen years ago, Khafif was a small-scale Panamanian property developer who had done a few successful projects, but mostly, he said, real estate "was a hobby." When three acres of newly backfilled land on Panama City's waterfront came up for sale in 2002, however, he paid $2.7 million for it and started dreaming bigger.
He put together a bold plan to build a massive, sail-shaped hotel, condominium and office complex that was going to cost $230 million. He knew he could never get that kind of financing on his own, so he decided to take a chance on signing up the biggest brand in real estate.
"In those days," he said in an interview earlier this year, "Trump was the brand."
And, he said, "it was a Trump-sized project."
Khafif said he sent a certified letter in 2002 to Trump, who he had never met, detailing the project. He heard nothing. In 2005, a friend helped him land a long-sought meeting with Trump. He said he flew to New York and pitched his plan to Donald and Ivanka Trump in Trump Tower.
He didn't want Donald Trump's money. He just wanted to attach the Trump name to the project.
The next day, he said, Trump called him and said: "Roger, I'm excited. I really love that thing. I want this for Ivanka."
Khafif recalled that Trump told him that his daughter, then 24, was taking a bigger role in the company and he wanted the Panama project "to be her baby."
Although Khafif was fairly small potatoes, even in Panama, the Trump name was enough to persuade Bear Stearns in New York to do a $220 million financing deal, he said.
Khafif said that partnering with a "hobbyist" with a big idea showed Trump's imagination as a businessman. "Maybe the hobbyists are the ones thinking outside the box," he said.
The hotel opened in July 2011. Flanked by beauty queens, Trump smiled for the cameras and addressed a crowd that included Khafif and Panama's then-president, Ricardo Martinelli.
The hotel project was beset with problems, almost immediately. Khafif's company was forced into bankruptcy when Panama's economy crashed and demand for luxury condos all but dried up. The Trump Organization and owners of the condominiums engaged in nasty disputes that ended in litigation and ultimately a confidential settlement.
Today, after a bankruptcy-court restructuring and renewed economic growth, the hotel remains a busy landmark on the Panama City waterfront. Trump has earned at least $50 million on the project on virtually zero investment, according to two people who are familiar with the details who spoke on the condition of anonymity.
Alan Garten, the Trump Organization's general counsel, declined to disclose financial details of the project.
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Kevin Sullivan
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BRAZIL
Paulo Figueiredo Filho
Age: 33
Primary business/industry: Real estate/hotel developer
Time affiliated with Trump: 2012 to 2016
RIO DE JANEIRO - The outspoken young conservative whom Donald Trump chose as his hotel business partner in Rio has an unusual calling card - his grandfather was the last president of Brazil's longtime military dictatorship.
Until March 2016, Paulo Figueiredo Filho was the chief executive of LSH Barra, the Brazilian company that owns the luxury Trump Rio de Janeiro hotel, which partially opened in July.
Last month, after federal authorities confirmed an investigation into questionable investments in the hotel, the Trump Organization abruptly pulled out of the project and severed ties with its owners, saying that "their vision for the hotel no longer aligns with the Trump brand."
"I was really upset," Figueiredo Filho, 33, said in an interview.
He had cultivated ties with Trump and defended some of the president-elect's most controversial statements, such as attacks on undocumented Latino immigrants and lewd comments about women. His Facebook page features a photograph of him with Trump.
Figueiredo Filho has always expressed pride in the connections provided by hisgrandfather, João Baptista Figueiredo, the last president in Brazil's 21-year military dictatorship, which ended in 1985.
"I met Reagan, Bill Clinton," he told El País in a November 2015 interview. "I grew up my whole life surrounded by federal deputies and governors and met all the presidents of Brazil."
Figueiredo Filho has said in interviews that he was lunching with Ivanka Trump at a West Palm Beach, Fla., golf club in 2012 when her father arrived in a helicopter. According to Figueiredo Filho, Trump said hello and was leaving when his daughter mentioned who the young Brazilian's grandfather was.
"Then he got a chair and sat down," Figueiredo Filho told El País.
In an October interview with Public Radio International, he defended Trump's comments about groping women that had been recorded on video.
"The type of conversation he had, a private conversation, is very common in Brazil," Figueiredo Filho said. "He almost sounded like a Brazilian."
The Trump Hotel Rio de Janeiro was announced in January 2014 in New York and opened partially last July. It is scheduled to be completed next year. The Trump Organization licensed its brand and managed the property but did not own it.
In October, federal prosecutors said in court papers that they were investigating whether any "illicit payments or bribes" were involved in the decision by two public-sector pension funds to invest nearly $40 million in the hotel. No charges have been filed, but the criminal investigation cast a cloud over the hotel, which has been removed from the Trump Hotels website and is now called the LSH Barra Hotel. Trump Organization officials said they are not a target of the investigation.
Figueiredo Filho now lives between Rio and Miami. He said he is no longer involved in management of the hotel, did not deal with raising money for the fund that controls it, and is one of 17 shareholders, though he declined to specify his stake.
"I was never told where the fund's resources came from," he said.
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Dom Phillips
Pulitzer-winning opinion from the most respected voices in the world.
WASHINGTON -- On the first day of his presidency, Donald Trump will face a serious governing challenge of his own creation.
He has promised a tax cut that will, by one estimate, reduce federal revenues by $7 trillion over 10 years. He has promised an infrastructure initiative that may cost another trillion. He has promised to rebuild the military. He has effectively promised not to make changes in Social Security and Medicare. And he has promised to move swiftly toward a balanced federal budget.
Taken together, these things can’t be taken together. Trump has made a series of pledges that can’t be reconciled. If he knew this during the campaign, he is cynical. It he is only finding out now, he is benighted. In either case, something has to give.
Congress and the country normally get a first glimpse of presidential priorities in the administration’s initial budget -- hashed out internally, translated into legislative-speak by experts and published in a hefty book.
It makes for stupefying reading. It is a useful document nonetheless. The budget book throws an ocean of campaign pledges against the rocky shore of fiscal reality. Proposals and pledges must be forced into a pie chart. Anyone’s gain, it turns out, is someone’s loss.
The first time is the hardest. It is the equivalent of a final exam on the first day of class.
But not really on the first day. Under the law, Trump has until Feb. 6 to submit a budget to Congress. He can ask for an extension but not an exemption.
A new president’s first speech to a joint session of Congress is less a State of the Union address than a statement of budget priorities. And if the president’s party controls both houses of Congress (as Barack Obama did at the start of his presidency), many of the proposals we hear on that night will become laws. Rather than being dead on arrival, the Trump budget will be alive and taking a Zumba class.
Finishing the budget will require a series of major decisions, beginning with what “replace” means in the “repeal and replace” of the Affordable Care Act. Anything involving a sufficient, refundable tax credit to buy private insurance (a feature of many Republican plans) is not cheap. The primary goal of most Republican health care policy wonks is not to save money. It is to retain the gains of Obamacare -- including insurance coverage for an additional 20 million people -- without overregulating the health care sector and destabilizing insurance markets. And to make the purchase of health insurance by younger people attractive rather than compulsory.
Members of Congress looking for leadership from the new administration have (at least) two problems.
First, the congealing organization chart of the Trump administration is flat and (so far) dysfunctional. A number of people have been given the highest level of White House jobs without a clear indication of who is in charge. By some accounts, Trump likes this sort of management chaos around him. But it is not conducive to policy creation.
Some senior Trump advisers have gone public to influence the policy process -- or perhaps to create the impression that a process actually exists. Kellyanne Conway, for example, recently stated, “We don’t want anyone who currently has insurance to not have insurance.” That type of assurance is difficult to make because Trumpcare doesn’t seem to exist.
Second, Trump himself is unfocused and erratic. He is dismissively impatient with policy meetings. He wants others to sweat the details, allowing him to focus on bigger things. Like Meryl Streep’s Golden Globe remarks. This looks less like delegation than a vacuum. How do you build a decision-making structure around a vacuum, without inviting a constant, bitter staff struggle to fill it? Is incoming Chief of Staff Reince Priebus capable of taking control of access to Trump and building an orderly policy process?
To some extent, every presidential transition is chaotic. But not every incoming administration fires its initial transition team after winning and essentially starts over. Or has a president-elect who seems to view public policy as a distraction from his social media calling. It is not too late for a structure to emerge that is capable of making sound decisions and choices. But it would take a president-elect who wants it to happen.
Michael Gerson’s email address is michaelgerson@washpost.com.
(c) 2017, Washington Post Writers Group
NEW YORK -- Donald Trump has perhaps attacked no country as consistently as he has China. During his campaign, he thundered that China was “raping” the United States, “killing” it on trade and artificially depressing its currency to make its goods cheap. Since being elected, he has spoken to the leader of Taiwan and continued the bellicosity toward Beijing. So it was a surprise to me, on a recent trip to Beijing, to find Chinese elites relatively sanguine about Trump. It says something about their view of Trump but perhaps more about how they see their own country.
“Trump is a negotiator and the rhetoric is all part of his opening bid,” said a Chinese scholar, who would not agree to be named (as was true of most policymakers and experts I spoke with). “He likes to make deals,” the scholar continued, “and we are good deal-makers as well. There are several agreements we could make on trade.” As one official noted to me, Beijing could simply agree with Trump that it is indeed a “currency manipulator” -- although it has actually been trying to prop (BEG ITAL) up(END ITAL) the yuan over the past two years. After such an admission, market forces would likely make the currency drop in value, lowering the price of Chinese goods.
Chinese officials point out that they have economic weapons as well. China is a huge market for American goods, and last year the country invested more than $53 billion in the U.S. economy, according to Forbes. But the officials’ calm derives from the reality that China is becoming far less dependent on foreign markets for its growth. Ten years ago, exports made up a staggering 37 percent of China’s GDP. Today they make up just 22 percent and are falling.
China has changed. Western brands there are rare, and the country’s own companies now dominate almost every aspect of the huge and growing domestic economy. Few businesses take their cues from American firms anymore. Technology companies are innovating, and many young Chinese boasted to me that their local versions of Google, Amazon and Facebook were better, faster and more sophisticated than the originals. The country has become its own, internally focused universe.
This situation is partly the product of government policy. Jeffrey Immelt, the CEO of General Electric, noted back in 2010 that China was becoming hostile to foreign firms. American tech giants have struggled in China because of formal or informal rules against them.
The next stage in China’s strategy apparently is to exploit the leadership vacuum being created by America’s retreat on trade. As Trump was promising protectionism and threatening literally to wall off America from its southern neighbor, Chinese President Xi Jinping made a trip through Latin America in November, his third in four years. He signed more than 40 deals, Bloomberg reported, and committed tens of billions of dollars of investments in the region, adding to a $250 billion commitment made in 2015.
The centerpiece of China’s strategy takes advantage of Trump’s declaration that the Trans-Pacific Partnership is dead. The trade deal, negotiated between the United States and 11 other countries, lowered barriers to trade and investment, pushing large Asian economies like Japan and Vietnam in a more open and rule-based direction. Now China has offered up its own version of the pact, one that excludes America and favors China’s more mercantilist approach.
Australia, once a key backer of the TPP, has announced that it supports China’s alternative. Other Asian countries will follow suit soon.
At the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit in Peru in November, John Key, who was then New Zealand’s prime minister, put it simply: “The TPP was all about the United States showing leadership in the Asia-Pacific region. We like the U.S. being in the region. But if the U.S. is not there, that void needs to be filled, and it will be filled by China.”
Xi’s own speech at the summit was remarkable, sounding more like an address traditionally made by an American president. It praised trade, integration and openness and promised to help ensure that countries don’t close themselves off to global commerce and cooperation.
Next week, Xi will become the first Chinese president to attend the World Economic Forum at Davos, surely aiming to reinforce the message of Chinese global leadership on trade. Meanwhile, Western leaders are forfeiting their traditional roles. Angela Merkel and Justin Trudeau announced last-minute cancellations of their plans to speak at the Swiss summit. Trump has only made sneering references to globalism and globalization and no senior member of his team currently plans to attend.
Looking beyond his tweets, Beijing seems to have concluded that Trump’s presidency might well prove to be the best thing that’s happened to China in a long time.
Fareed Zakaria’s email address is comments@fareedzakaria.com.
(c) 2017, Washington Post Writers Group
WASHINGTON -- “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” mutters Marcellus as ghosts and mad spirits haunt Elsinore Castle in the first act of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet.”
After this past week of salacious leaks about foreign espionage plots and indignant denials, people must be wondering if something is rotten in the state of our democracy. How can we dispel the dark rumors that, as Hamlet says, “shake our disposition”?
I’d suggest four questions to clear the haze of allegation and recrimination that surrounds President-elect Donald Trump and our intelligence agencies a week before his inauguration. Getting answers may take months -- but that’s the best way to avoid a Shakespearean tragic ending.
Question 1: Did Trump’s campaign encourage Russia’s alleged hacking to hurt his rival Hillary Clinton and help him, and does Russia have any leverage over him? Trump finally conceded at his press conference Wednesday that “as far as hacking, I think it was Russia,” but he insisted he has “no dealings with Russia” and “no loans with Russia.” He didn’t answer a question about whether he or anyone from his staff had contact with Russia during the campaign.
The country needs to know what’s true and false. The Washington Post and other news organizations spent months trying to check out a dossier about possible Russia-Trump contacts prepared by a former British intelligence officer. The press couldn’t confirm alleged meetings during the campaign. The FBI and other intelligence agencies have had the dossier, too, since late summer. Their investigation remains open, it appears.
A full investigation will establish who did what, and when. In a case where a foreign intelligence service allegedly ran a covert action against America’s political system, aborting the inquiry would be scandalous.
Question 2: Why did the Obama administration wait so long to deal with Russia’s apparent hacking? This is the Hamlet puzzle in our drama. Like the prince of Denmark, President Obama delayed taking action even as evidence mounted of dastardly deeds. The first stories about Russian hacking broke last summer. In September, the so-called “Gang of Eight” -- the top congressional leadership on intelligence -- was getting detailed briefings on the hacking. The FBI by then had obtained the British ex-spy’s dossier.
The intelligence community issued a statement Oct. 7 charging that “Russia’s senior-most officials” had sought to “interfere with the U.S. election process.” Given that, why didn’t Obama do more?
The White House probably feared that further action might trigger a process of escalation that could bring even worse election turmoil. Trump was barnstorming the country claiming that the election was rigged and warning he might not accept the outcome. Did the administration worry that the Russians would take additional steps to hurt Clinton and help Trump, and might disrupt balloting itself? We need to know.
Question 3: What discussions has the Trump team had with Russian officials about future relations? Trump said Wednesday that his relationship with President Vladimir Putin is “an asset, not a liability.” Fair enough, but until he’s president, Trump needs to let Obama manage U.S.-Russia policy.
Lt. Gen. Michael Flynn, Trump’s choice for national security adviser, cultivates close Russian contacts. He has appeared on Russia Today, and received a paid speaking fee from the cable network, which was described in last week’s unclassified intelligence briefing on Russian hacking as “the Kremlin’s principal international propaganda outlet.”
According to a senior U.S. government official, Flynn phoned Russian Ambassador Sergey Kislyak several times on Dec. 29, the day the Obama administration announced the expulsion of 35 Russian officials and other measures in retaliation for the hacking. What did Flynn say, and did it undercut the U.S. sanctions? The Logan Act (though never enforced) bars U.S. citizens from correspondence intending to influence a foreign government about “disputes” with the United States. Was its spirit violated? The Trump campaign didn’t immediately respond to a request for comment.
If the Trump team’s contacts helped discourage the Russians from a counter-retaliation, maybe that’s a good thing. But we ought to know the facts.
Question 4: Finally, what’s the chance that Russian intelligence has gamed its covert action more subtly than we realize? Applying a counterintelligence lens, it’s worth asking whether the Russians hoped to be discovered, and whether Russian operatives fed the former MI6 officer’s controversial dossier deliberately, to sow further chaos.
These questions need to be answered -- not to undermine Trump, but to provide a factual base to help the country recover from an attack on its political system. As Trump rightly says, “fake news” threatens our democracy. Truth will protect it.
David Ignatius’ email address is davidignatius@washpost.com.
(c) 2017, Washington Post Writers Group
WASHINGTON -- The shortest honeymoon on record is officially over. Normally, newly elected presidents enjoy a wave of goodwill that allows them to fly high at least through their first 100 days. Donald Trump has not yet been sworn in and the honeymoon has already come and gone.
Presidents-elect usually lie low during the interregnum. Trump never lies low. He seized the actual presidency from Barack Obama within weeks of his election -- cutting ostentatious deals with U.S. manufacturers to keep jobs at home, challenging 40-year-old China policy, getting into a very public fight with the intelligence agencies. By now he has taken over the presidential stage. It is true that we have only one president at a time, and for over a month it’s been Donald Trump.
The result is quantifiable. A Quinnipiac poll from Nov. 17-20 -- the quiet, hope-and-change phase -- showed a decided bump in Trump’s popularity and in general national optimism. It didn’t last long. In the latest Quinnipiac poll, the numbers have essentially returned to Trump’s (historically dismal) pre-election levels.
For several reasons. First, the refusal of an unbending left to accept the legitimacy of Trump’s victory. It’s not just the demonstrators chanting “not my president.” It is leading Democrats pushing one line after another to delegitimize the election, as in: he lost the popular vote, it’s James Comey’s fault, the Russians did it.
Second, Trump’s own instincts and inclinations, a thirst for attention that leads to hyperactivity. His need to dominate every news cycle feeds an almost compulsive tweet habit. It has placed him just about continuously at the center of the national conversation and not always to his benefit.
Trump simply can’t resist playground pushback. His tweets gave Meryl Streep’s Golden Globes screed priceless publicity. His mocking Arnold Schwarzenegger for bad “Apprentice” ratings -- compared with “the ratings machine, DJT” -- made Trump look small and Arnold (almost) sympathetic.
Nor is this behavior likely to change after the inauguration. It’s part of Trump’s character. Nothing negative goes unanswered because, for Trump, an unanswered slight has the air of concession or surrender.
Finally, it’s his chronic indiscipline, his jumping randomly from one subject to another without rhyme, reason or larger strategy. In a week packed with confirmation hearings and Russian hacking allegations, what was he doing meeting with Robert Kennedy Jr., an anti-vaccine activist pushing the thoroughly discredited idea that vaccines cause autism?
We know from way back during the Republican debates that Trump himself has dabbled in this dubious territory. One could, however, write it off as one of many campaign oddities that would surely fade away. Not so, apparently.
This is not good. The idea that vaccines cause autism originally arose in a 1998 paper in the medical journal The Lancet that was later found to be fraudulent and had to be retracted. Indeed, the lead researcher acted so egregiously that he was stripped of his medical license.
Kennedy says that Trump asked him to chair a commission about vaccine safety. While denying that, the transition team does say that the commission idea remains open. Either way, the damage is done. The anti-vaccine fanatics seek any validation. This indirect endorsement from Trump is immensely harmful. Vaccination has prevented more childhood suffering and death than any other measure in history. With so many issues pressing, why even go there?
The vaccination issue was merely an exclamation point on the scatter-brained randomness of the Trump transition. All of which contributes to the harried, almost wearying feeling that we are already well into the Trump presidency.
Compare this to eight years ago and the near euphoria -- overblown but nonetheless palpable -- at the swearing-in of Barack Obama. Not since JFK had any new president enjoyed such genuine goodwill upon accession to office.
And yet it turns out that such auspicious beginnings are not at all predictive. We could see it this same week. Tuesday night, there stood Obama giving a farewell address that only underscored the failure of a presidency so bathed in optimism at its start. The final speech, amazingly, could have been given, nearly unedited, in 2008. Why it even ended with “yes we can.”
Is there more powerful evidence of the emptiness of the intervening two terms? When your final statement is a reprise of your first, you have unwittingly confessed to being nothing more than a historical parenthesis.
Charles Krauthammer’s email address is letters@charleskrauthammer.com.
(c) 2017, The Washington Post Writers Group
WASHINGTON -- The average commission rate paid on American home sale transactions continues to decline and could dip below 5 percent within the next few years.
That’s the conclusion of Real Trends Consulting Inc., a research and advisory company that monitors hundreds of realty brokerage firms and compiles data on sales and commission rates of 450,000 sales agents across the country. Though you may have assumed that the “standard” commission rate is 6 percent -- and it is indeed the preferred rate at many full-service, traditional brokerages -- the actual national average was 5.26 percent in 2015. Based on preliminary data, it’s likely to decline further when the final numbers are tallied for 2016.
Steve Murray, Real Trends president, told me that “we are headed for [a] sub-5 percent overall rate within the next few years.” In 2010 and 2012, the average rate was 5.4 percent and in 2013, 5.36 percent. During the 1980s and early 1990s, the standard sometimes was 7 percent, depending on the local market.
What’s been causing the drop in fees? Likely multiple factors:
-- Rising numbers of agents are now working for brokerages that allow them flexibility to negotiate lower commission rates, with no set minimum. Murray says 2016 appears to be the first year when the percentage of all agents working for brokerages that do not impose some type of floor on minimum commissions exceeds the percentage of agents working for firms who do.
-- Tech-savvy discount rate competitors such as Redfin, which is now active in 83 markets, are offering their lower charges -- a 1 percent listing fee in Washington D.C., Chicago, Denver and Seattle and 1.5 percent elsewhere -- putting pressure on competing firms’ agents to be more flexible on fees. Redfin also offers refunds to shoppers who buy through one of their agents.
-- During 2015 and 2016, some major markets saw severe shortages of homes available for sale, making traditional agents more willing to negotiate lower fees in order to obtain listings.
Commissions in real estate are always negotiable. Typical transactions involve “splits” among the brokers and agents involved. If the total commission in the listing contract is 6 percent, normally that gets split in half between the listing agent’s brokerage and the brokerage that brought in the buyer. Each of the slices then gets further split between the brokerage firm and the agent. If the listing fee gets negotiated down to 2.5 percent and the fee to the buyer’s agent is 3 percent, the listing brokerage and agent only get to split the 2.5 percent.
Discount firms offer a variety of alternative models. Denver-based Trelora LLC charges a flat $2,500 to list a house regardless of price and offers a flat $2,500 to the buyer’s agent. Though controversial among commission-based realty firms in the area, Trelora’s sales volume soared by 30 percent in 2016, according to CEO Joshua Hunt. Some limited-service “alternative” firms offer to put listings on the Internet for anywhere from $49 up but don’t do much beyond that.
Traditional brokers argue that by skimping on fees working with discounters, sellers often end up with poor marketing efforts, inadequate photography, newbie agents with minimal experience, and the risk of losing more money on the final sale price than they save in fees. Traditional brokers also question how much of an impact lower-fee competitors are having on their business. David Howell, executive vice president at McEnearney Associates, a northern Virginia brokerage firm, cited survey data from the National Association of Realtors indicating that 83 percent of recent buyers and sellers “chose full-service brokers” for their transactions, while just 17 percent “chose brokers who offered some form of limited service.”
Some large firms -- notably RE/MAX, which has 111,000-plus affiliated agents worldwide -- give their sales associates total flexibility on what they can negotiate. Susan McFarland, an agent with RE/MAX Realty Group in the Maryland suburbs of Washington D.C., says she frequently works with sellers who seek lower total fees. But given the heavy marketing costs she incurs and decades-long experience she brings to the table, she says, there are economic limits on how low commission charges can go.
Bottom line: If you plan to sell in 2017, explore all your fee options and the pros and cons each involves. Talk to multiple competing agents about what services they provide, what they charge and how it gets split. Most important, be aware that there is no standard fee in real estate, and that average charges nationwide have been declining.
Ken Harney’s email address is kenharney@earthlink.net.
(c) 2017, Washington Post Writers Group
WASHINGTON -- Hold on to one image from President Obama’s farewell address: The president using his handkerchief to wipe a tear from his eye as he thanked Michelle Obama for her grace and forbearance.
The first lady was holding back tears, too, as was her daughter Malia. Politics aside, it was a touching moment in the life of a family we have come to know so well -- one of countless such moments, and images, that have changed this nation forever.
The White House is really a glass house, and for eight years we have watched the Obamas live their lives in full public view. We’ve seen a president age, his hair graying and his once-unlined face developing a wrinkle here, a furrow there. We’ve seen a first lady change hairstyles and model an array of designer gowns. We’ve seen two little girls grow into young women.
We’ve seen it all before -- except that we’ve never seen an African-American family in these roles. Images of the Obamas performing the duties of the first family are indelible, and I believe they will be one of the administration’s most important and lasting legacies.
Visuals are uniquely powerful. They rearrange and reorient our thinking in ways that are difficult to describe or even comprehend. They penetrate to our deepest levels of consciousness without being attenuated by the filter of language; they retain their specificity, their emotional sharp edges. They can make us laugh, cry, rage and weep without quite knowing why.
For eight years we have had the privilege of seeing a black family living in the White House. I still find that hard to believe.
We watched as the president, the first lady, Malia and Sasha walked across the South Lawn to board Marine One. We watched the president playing with the family dog, Bo. We watched Michelle Obama working in her garden. Those who live in Washington might have glimpsed the girls stopping by McDonald’s on their way home from school, or the president and first lady having a date night at one of their favorite restaurants.
We saw the Obamas host glittering state dinners. We saw them walk down the stairs of Air Force One onto red-carpeted tarmacs around the world. We saw President Obama channel the pride of the nation at moments of triumph, as when he announced the raid that killed Osama bin Laden. And we saw him become a conduit for our despair after the Newtown school massacre, the Charleston church killings and so many other senseless acts of gun violence.
Given this country’s history of slavery and discrimination, the first black family to serve as first family had to be like a fortress, strong and unassailable. In that sense the Obamas were from central casting -- so impeccable in education, elocution and etiquette that even the president’s harshest political critics spoke of them as a family with genuine admiration.
We watched as Obama largely abandoned recreational basketball, the scourge of tendons and ligaments, for a more age-appropriate pastime. The golf course became, for him, the “third space” (besides home and family) that some men seem to need. According to a website that tries to keep track, Obama has played more than 300 rounds of golf during his tenure. Unlike other presidents, he almost never used these outings to butter up political adversaries or reward loyal allies. Instead, he stuck mostly to a tight group of regulars, with a few luminaries, mostly professional athletes, tossed in.
When he wasn’t working -- and, reportedly, sometimes when he was -- the president watched ESPN.
As a rule, Obama went upstairs to the residence every evening so the family could have dinner together. Then he would go back to work for a while before bedtime.
As Obama noted Tuesday night, one of his wife’s great accomplishments was opening the doors of the White House as wide as possible to the American people. Every December, she and the president put themselves through a Long March of holiday parties, including two for the media. At the end of the evening, having shaken hundreds of hands and posed for hundreds of smiling pictures, any normal human beings would have been homicidal, suicidal or both. But the Obamas were unfailingly sunny and gracious, making every single guest feel welcome in their home.
In their time in the White House, the Obama family expanded this nation’s idea of what it can achieve. They gave us vivid images that will never fade. We owe them heartfelt thanks for being, at all times, the classiest of class acts.
Eugene Robinson’s email address is eugenerobinson@washpost.com.
(c) 2017, Washington Post Writers Group
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