On his first day in office, President Donald Trump signed an executive order withdrawing the U.S. from the World Health Organization (WHO)—a move that experts say makes the U.S. and other countries less safe from infectious diseases and other public-health threats. “For Americans it may not be obvious immediately what the impact will be, but given the world we live in and all of the factors that are driving more disease outbreaks, America cannot fight them alone,” says Dr. Ashish Jha, dean of the school of public health at Brown University and former White House COVID-19 Response Coordinator. “We need an effective WHO to not just keep the world safe from these diseases, but to keep Americans safe from these diseases.” "The bottom line is that withdrawing from the WHO makes Americans and the world less safe," says Dr. Tom Frieden, president and CEO of the nonprofit health organization Resolve to Save Lives and former director of the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). In a statement responding to Trump’s order, the WHO says it “regrets” the U.S.’s decision. “We hope the United States will reconsider and we look forward to engaging in constructive dialogue to maintain the partnership between the USA and WHO, for the benefit of the health and well-being of millions of people around the globe.” Here's what to know about the U.S.'s withdrawal from the global health organization and what it might mean for the health of Americans and people around the world. The background This is the second time Trump has attempted to withdraw from the WHO. In 2020, during the pandemic and toward the end of his first term, Trump submitted a letter to the Secretary-General of the United Nations stating the U.S.’s intention to withdraw. Though U.S. funding stopped, a withdrawal didn't happen: About six months later, then-President Biden in his first day in office wrote back to the Secretary General saying that the U.S. would remain a member of the WHO. In the new executive order, Trump cites the WHO’s “mishandling of the COVID-19 pandemic that arose out of Wuhan, China, and other global health crises, its failure to adopt urgently needed reforms, and its inability to demonstrate independence from the inappropriate political influence of WHO member states.” Trump, along with other public-health experts, have previously criticized the agency for not holding China more accountable for its slow response to the WHO's investigation of COVID-19's origins. Read More: The Health Risks and Benefits of Weight-Loss Drugs The order also says that the U.S.’s member dues—which ranged from $100 to $122 million over the past decade, the highest that any member pays—are “unfairly onerous” and “far out of proportion with other countries’ assessed payments." (By comparison, while China has a similar assessment, its population is four times the size of the U.S.) The U.S. also contributed far more in voluntary funding in recent years; in 2022-2023, for example, it provided a total of nearly $1.3 billion to the health agency. What happens next? In the WHO's agreement with the U.S., the U.S. would provide one year’s advance notice and pay any remaining balance to the organization in order to leave. But that agreement, made in 1948 when the WHO had just been created, was made through a joint act of Congress. It’s not clear whether Congress would have to act to implement the withdrawal. Lawrence Gostin, professor and chair of global health law at Georgetown University and director of the O’Neill Institute, says Trump’s decision may open him up to legal action. “Trump made a unilateral decision to pull out of WHO,” Gostin wrote on X. “But we joined WHO in 1948 by an act of Congress. Trump needs Congress’ approval to withdraw. As director of a WHO Center, I am considering a lawsuit.” Gostin also points out that the executive order calls for immediate cessation of payments, although the terms of the U.S.’s agreement with the WHO allows for a year to implement the withdrawal. What public-health experts are saying Experts are raising concerns about the short- and long-term implications for public health in the U.S. and abroad. “The WHO continues to serve as a very critical air traffic control and public health response organization for the world,” says Dr. Michael Osterholm, director of the Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy at the University of Minnesota. “We in the U.S. don’t experience many of the infectious diseases we see around the world in large part because they are stopped in these countries, oftentimes through the support and coordination of the WHO. Funding the WHO is about investing in our own health here in this country.” Read More: White House’s Pandemic Office, Busy With Bird Flu, May Shrink Under Trump The WHO is not without controversy. Some of its biggest supporters have also criticized the bureaucracy and inefficiencies of the organization. However, health experts largely don’t see withdrawing funding as an effective catalyst for change. “The WHO can be improved; there are inefficiencies, like with all organizations,” says Paul Spiegel, professor in the department of international health and director of the Center for Humanitarian Health at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. “But by pulling out, and removing the huge amount of money that the U.S. gives, you’re not allowing the WHO to make reforms. You’re hobbling it.” What does the WHO do? With 194 member countries, the WHO is responsible for a number of important public health programs—particularly vaccines. Each year, scientists there, working with health officials around the world, determine which influenza and COVID-19 strains to include in updated versions of the respective shots. As a member, the U.S. has access to samples of these strains, which help vaccine-makers develop and produce enough doses of matched flu vaccines in time for flu season for the public each year. The WHO was instrumental in coordinating the eradication of smallpox and is now working to eliminate polio. Being part of the international network becomes critical when a new threat like COVID-19 emerges, Jha says. “When there are outbreaks, countries usually report them first to the WHO and share samples with the WHO,” he says. As a member, “the U.S. has access to that information"—but if the U.S. withdraws, "our ability to access all of that will substantially be worse.” Read More: The Virus Hunters Trying to Prevent the Next Pandemic The WHO also provides health guidance for a number of countries that don’t have the resources to create health recommendations for their populations, such as advice on breastfeeding, diabetes, and giving up smoking. While other non-government organizations and philanthropies exist, like the Global Fund and GAVI, “none has the same level of trusted relationships with the ministries of health in different countries that WHO has,” Jha says. Frieden agrees. "The executive order says the U.S. is looking for alternatives. But what alternative do we have that works with 194 countries and is trusted by them? If you look at the reach, the relationships, and infrastructure of the WHO, it's unparalleled." Have countries withdrawn from the WHO before? In 1949, a year after the WHO’s creation, the then Soviet Union and a number of satellite states in Eastern Europe withdrew as Cold War tensions mounted. However, they returned in 1956. Liechtenstein is the only country that is a member of the United Nations but not a member of the WHO. Are there signs that the WHO is reforming and changing in response to criticisms? “If I were giving a grade, I would say their reform efforts get a solid ‘C’,” says Jha. While he says the agency’s emergency preparedness response to outbreaks has improved, in his opinion the WHO still must address under-performing personnel and what he sees as a culture that isn't responsive enough to fast-moving pathogens. Jha and other public-health experts argue, for example, that the WHO acted too slowly in allowing the U.S.'s mpox vaccine to be made available to African countries during the recent mpox outbreak. Read More: What to Expect at Cataract Surgery “There is an arrogance there that even though the vaccine was approved by the FDA and EMA [European Medicines Agency], they wanted their own review because they don’t trust our regulators,” says Jha. “I’m sorry, but if both the FDA and EMA have approved it, then you can do a pretty rapid review and don’t need an independent year-and-a-half review." "But that’s classic WHO: they think they are better than everybody else when they actually are not," Jha says. "I think there are deep cultural issues that need addressing inside the WHO.” How a withdrawal could endanger the U.S. The most immediate domestic consequence may be that if the U.S. is not privy to the WHO’s database of changing influenza strains, more Americans could be hospitalized and die from flu infections, says Jha. “Right now 30,000 elderly people at high risk for influenza complications die every year from the flu," he says. "If we are not making vaccines, or our vaccines are not as good or effective, then we are going to see those numbers go up.” By not being a WHO member, the U.S. would also lose access to the global database of health information that includes surveillance for new and existing infectious diseases, which could make the country more vulnerable to microbial threats from around the world. “It means we are going to see a lot more disease outbreaks become regional and global, and we will see more disease outbreaks from other countries coming into the U.S.,” says Jha. Read More: How to Dress Warmly for Cold Weather, According to Science If the U.S. withdraws, there will also be implications beyond health. The U.S. would lose its major role as an influencer in global health policy; currently, it shapes how the world responds to and maintains people’s health, Osterholm says, in what he calls “public health diplomacy.” By supporting the WHO, the U.S. supports programs that bring clean water, food, and vaccines to children around the world, and in turn creates valuable relationships with countries that otherwise would be out of reach. “If we are not supporting or doing those things, wait to see how the Russians and the Chinese will,” he says. “They will fill in behind us, and we will absolutely lose the connections to some countries that have been valuable to us over recent decades.” The U.S.'s withdrawal would leave a sizable financial hole for the agency. “I don’t see other countries stepping up and filling the gap,” says Jha. "Except maybe one country that could do this, and that’s China. That alone would not be great for U.S. interests.” Soon after Trump stopped U.S. funding to WHO in 2020, China pledged $30 million to the organization. What the rest of the world risks Without U.S. membership, the WHO would lose its close ties to the CDC, which is regarded as one of the world’s leading public-health agencies. Several dozen CDC researchers are currently assigned to the WHO and would likely be recalled, experts say. Those scientists form critical bridges between the U.S. and other countries, allowing for the exchange of information on new and emerging threats as well as policies that promote health and prevent chronic diseases. Read More: When Should I Go to the Doctor With Cold Symptoms? For Frieden, that possibility hits close to home. Early in his career, while working for the CDC, he was assigned to work at WHO in India on its programs to control tuberculosis. "I couldn't have done what I did as a CDC employee," he says, noting that the non-political rubric of the WHO enabled him to travel throughout India, meet with high-level local officials, and implement programs to reduce the spread of drug-resistant tuberculosis that continues today. "There are a lot of places where as Americans we can't be—for safety reasons, for political reasons. And WHO provides that space where countries that may not agree on anything else can have a discussion." Smallpox, which required the U.S. and Soviet Union to work together through the WHO, was eradicated during the Cold War, he adds. Health threats around the world—not just from infectious diseases, but also urbanization and deforestation—are forecasted to increase due to climate change and other factors, says Spiegel. “Our interactions with animals are increasing, so the chances of some novel disease like COVID-19 probably increase compared to 100 years ago,” he says. That makes global collaboration on health "more important now than ever.” The WHO makes such collaboration possible, Frieden says, with the common goal of improving health. "What weakens WHO makes us all less safe," he says. "What strengthens WHO makes us more safe.

When Senator John Fetterman got word that President-elect Donald Trump wanted to meet, the Pennsylvania Democrat didn’t have to think it over too long. Even though Trump had savaged Fetterman during the 2022 campaign—going so far as to allege he had an affinity for cocaine, heroin, crystal meth, and fentanyl—Fetterman reasoned that he represents all Pennsylvanians, including the 3.5 million who had just voted for Trump. “If the President invites you to have a conversation and to engage, I'm not sure why anybody would decide not to,” Fetterman tells TIME. “I'm in the business of creating wins for Pennsylvania.” And so, the weekend before Trump returned to the White House, Fetterman jumped on a plane to Florida to spend about an hour with Trump at Mar-a-Lago. The two talked about immigration, the sale of Pittsburgh-based U.S. Steel, and the detention of Pennsylvania native Marc Fogel in Russia on drug charges. For Fetterman, it was about starting the next four years on productive footing. “There's plenty of things that we can work together on, and there are parts where we aren't agreeing,” Fetterman says. “And I am going to avoid just jumping online and just dropping a lot of cheap heat.” Eight years earlier, such a meeting would have drawn outrage in Democratic circles. This time the response to Fetterman’s pilgrimage, which caught most senior Democrats by surprise, was more ambivalent. Some party officials believe working more closely with Trump this time will be necessary as the 47th President takes office with political capital to spend and a Republican Congress lined up behind him. At the start of Trump’s second term, the Democrats are stuck somewhere between discombobulation and despair. Conversations with two dozen Democratic sources reveal a party still struggling to figure out how they found themselves losing the White House and Senate and stuck in the minority in the House. Prescriptions for a comeback abound: A more inclusive message, not just what plays well among activists and on college campuses. More spending on state parties and less on D.C.-based consultants. Serious investments in a progressive media ecosystem to rival the conservative one. A foreign policy that is as easy to explain as Republicans’ tried-and-true “Peace Through Strength.” Better polling. Less fear-mongering about the end of democracy. More podcasts. But those are all hunches at this point ahead of any comprehensive, sanctioned autopsy. In fact, some Democrats fear the party is in danger of overreacting to Kamala Harris’ loss. They point to how bad a year 2024 was for incumbents around the world, from the United Kingdom to South Korea to Botswana. They stress that recent inflation made incumbents vulnerable regardless of political leaning, allowing opposition figures in nations such as Panama, India, South Africa, India, and Japan to make significant inroads. Others point to the promise of Democratic groups like suburban-powerhouse Red Wine and Blue and recruitment machines like Swing Left, which are notching successes for candidates further down the ballot. As the debate churns, some say any remedies remain premature. “You can write a eulogy before someone dies. You cannot write an autopsy until the body is on the table,” says Jesse Ferguson, a strategist who formerly ran House Democrats’ outside spending program. In other words, the version of the Democratic Party that got killed in 2024 is still twitching. And the fact that no one in the party can agree on how to deal with Trump 2.0—or decide if Fetterman’s meeting was a shrewd move, a betrayal, or both—means Democrats are still at a loss for how to prevent more casualties. A party strategist who’s been among those searching for a way out of the wilderness has a PowerPoint he’s been delivering since Election Day. The slides are meant to cheer his fellow Democrats up. It starts with a grim New York Times story with the headline “Baffled in Loss, Democrats Seek Road Forward.” The piece begins: “The Democratic Party emerged from this week’s election struggling over what it stood for, anxious about its political future, and bewildered about how to compete with a Republican Party that some Democrats say may be headed for a period of electoral dominance.” The next slide reveals the date of that verdict: Nov. 7, 2004. Two years later, Nancy Pelosi became the first woman elevated to Speaker of the House. Two years after that, Barack Obama was elected the nation’s first Black President. From the ashes of John Kerry’s defeat by George W. Bush, Democrats were able to forge a swift and successful comeback. The strategist who has been delivering this message in seemingly endless Zoom sessions for colleagues and clients says the point is that Democrats can recover quickly if they figure out the right lessons to take from the defeat. Yet those gains 20 years ago were driven by two primary factors: the presence of Bush, who grew increasingly unpopular amid the Iraq war, and the rise of a transcendent political talent. As another strategist, Chris Moyer, a former aide to Democratic Senate Leader Harry Reid, puts it: “You cannot wait around for Obama to come around. We cannot act like it’s just going to happen. We have to make it happen ourselves.” In the meantime, Democrats are at odds over how to respond to a second Trump presidency. The so-called Resistance that propelled Democrats during his first term seems weary, if not depleted. In Congress, party leaders are settling into a strategy that focuses more on Trump’s expected failures to fulfill the promises he made to voters, and less on his norm-breaking provocations. As his latest TruthSocial posts and threats to invade Greenland make headlines, Democrats intend to stay on message: what’s he doing to curb inflation or bring down the cost of healthcare? A troll, some argue, can control the bridge only if someone feeds him. Others fear such strategies are an inadequate response to Trump’s agenda, including the possibility of deportation camps, military deployment in U.S. cities, and investigations into his political enemies. “The consequences are no joke. People are going to die,” says Yasmin Radjy, the executive director of Swing Left. “We are not The Resistance 2.0. That is not going to be enough.” Yet as Democrats brace for the return of Trump’s chaos, there is little agreement on where the party’s focus should be. Few see either House Leader Hakeem Jeffries or Senate Leader Chuck Schumer—both New Yorkers—as the unifying national figure the party needs. The pair is known to donors but hardly household names who can be stand-ins as an unrivaled spokesman. Until Democrats anoint their next presidential nominee, the party will lack a single leader, and that is probably more than three years away.

Residents of Northern cities might laugh at the puny snowfall accumulations shutting down streets, bridges and interstates across the South — maybe for days, officials warn. But there’s a simple reason that two to six inches of snow can be crippling along the Gulf Coast: Most of its cities have no snowplows. “It so rarely snows here,” said Erin Jones, a spokeswoman for the public works department in Houston, which hasn’t had this much snow since at least 1960. “They would basically sit in storage for year after year after year.” The state was sending 30 plows to Houston to help clear streets. But even that fleet pales to a city like Chicago, which has 300 trucks that can plow streets and spread salt, and another 200 garbage trucks that can also be equipped with plows when needed. Advertisement SKIP ADVERTISEMENT In Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis said that the state’s infrastructure was designed differently than that in states used to snowfall, adding that “we’re not necessarily used to walking in a winter wonderland here.” The limited snow infrastructure across the Southern states could spell problems for local communities trying to dig out from a historic storm that could bring up to 10 inches of snow to parts of the Gulf Coast. Now, cities are being forced to find creative solutions or rely on their lack of or limited supply of plows to help battle the snow accumulation. Other locations have received help from nearby states. On Monday, Louisiana Gov. Jeff Landry announced that Arkansas had sent his state 12 dump trucks with snowplows, CNN reported. And the city of Pensacola, Fla., which does not own any snowplows, is relying on four from Atlanta, according to a city spokesman. But the state of Florida itself has done a lot to prepare, according to Governor DeSantis, who said on Tuesday that the Florida Department of Transportation was ready to deploy 11 snowplows.Kevin Guthrie, Florida’s emergency management director, said at a news conference that the state had built capacity after past winter storms and cold spells. But, he added, “Do I think we’re ever going to get a situation in Florida where we have hundreds of snow plows and all kinds of de-icing equipment? No.”

Harvard University will adopt a definition of antisemitism when investigating discipline cases as part of several moves meant to protect Jewish students after Gaza war protests, the university said in an agreement on Tuesday. The definition includes some criticisms of Israel as examples of antisemitism, including calling Israel’s existence a “racist endeavor.” It was part of a settlement in two lawsuits filed by Jewish groups that accused the school of not doing enough to prevent and punish antisemitism on campus. Last year, a federal judge in Boston allowed the cases to go forward. The move by Harvard was unusual. Many universities have shied away from adopting any definition of antisemitism, even as pressure on them to do so has increased in response to campus conflicts related to the war in Gaza. Advertisement SKIP ADVERTISEMENT The definition Harvard is using has been criticized as blurring the line between antisemitism and arguments against Israel and Zionism. Kenneth Marcus, chairman of the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law, a Jewish civil rights group, said that he hoped other universities would adopt the definition. “Zionist is often a code word for Jews,” he said, adding, “Harvard is making clear that rules against Zionists are as objectionable as rules against Jews.” But Kenneth Stern, who helped draft the definition while he was at the American Jewish Committee, has since become a critic of the definition’s use in academic settings, saying it could stifle open debate on the Middle East, an issue that has divided campuses since the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks by Hamas on Israel. “I would much rather universities make clear that nobody is going to be harassed for any reason and avoid these types of issues on speech,” said Mr. Stern, now the director of the Bard Center for the Study of Hate. Previously, Harvard’s policies prevented discrimination based on religion, national origin and ancestry, among other categories, which covered antisemitism. What is new is that the university will now consider a definition of antisemitism that was put forward by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance when investigating complaints. The definition from the group is uncontroversial. It defines antisemitism as a “certain perception of Jews that may be expressed as hatred” toward them. But it also lists examples that include holding Israel to a “double standard” or describing the creation of Israel as a “racist endeavor.” Harvard, Mr. Stern said, was “opening a can of worms,” giving a tool for students to file complaints about professors, for example. “If you’re a faculty member, you know people are hunting for things,” he said. Harvard has been under an intense public spotlight since the war broke out in Gaza. On the night of the Hamas attack, more than 30 student groups posted an open letter that held Israel “entirely responsible.” The university’s former president, Claudine Gay, eventually resigned, in part because of her testimony during a Congressional hearing in which she was accused of not doing enough to combat antisemitism. Students Against Antisemitism, a group at Harvard, filed a lawsuit in January saying that Harvard had not addressed “severe and pervasive antisemitism on campus.” In May, the Brandeis Center also sued, saying the university ignored antisemitism. The agreement released on Tuesday settles both cases. One former student in the earlier case declined to join the settlement, which also includes an unspecified amount of money, and will continue to pursue his claim against Harvard, according to the university. The former student, Shabbos Kestenbaum, who graduated in June, said “the fight is only beginning.” He said he was working closely with the White House and that “Harvard can expect to be penalized in the weeks ahead.” Harvard’s move comes a day after the inauguration of President Trump, who has said that colleges “must end the antisemitism propaganda” or lose federal support. According to a 2019 executive order from Mr. Trump, the Education Department and other federal agencies must “consider” the I.H.R.A. definition in civil rights complaints that claim antisemitism. The executive order has caused confusion among university administrators about what is expected from them, however, and several dozen schools are currently under investigation. Critics of using the definition in academia say policies already exist that bar harassment of Jewish students, and that the I.H.R.A. definition is more about cracking down on speech related to Israel. Jeffrey S. Flier, the former dean of the Harvard Medical School, said on social media that the I.H.R.A. definition does not “by itself prohibit or punish speech.” “Once adopted by Harvard,” he wrote, “the definition must be used in a manner consistent with other applicable legal principles, and principles of academic freedom and free speech.” Under the lawsuit agreement, Harvard also must establish a partnership with an Israeli university, hire someone who will be consulted on all antisemitism complaints, and allow the Brandeis Center “to host a variety of events on campus,” Harvard said in a statement. The Kennedy School, Harvard’s public policy school, must allow three alumni to host an event “on the substantive issues of Israeli Jewish democracy.” The university also must post on its website the following statement: “For many Jewish people, Zionism is a part of their Jewish identity. Conduct that would violate the Non-Discrimination Policy if targeting Jewish or Israeli people can also violate the policy if directed toward Zionists.” A Harvard spokesman said in a statement that the university “will continue to implement robust steps to maintain a welcoming, open and safe campus environment where every student feels a sense of belonging.”

The first 24 hours of Donald Trump’s second term reflected what his supporters hoped for and his detractors feared: a willingness to follow through on some of his most radical and divisive ideas. That much was clear Monday night, when Trump made good on his pledge to exonerate the mob that stormed the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021. Sitting behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office, the President pardoned or commuted nearly 1,600 of the defendants convicted or charged in connection with the attack, including those who carried out violent acts such as smashing windows and beating police officers. Among those reprieved were members of far-right extremist groups. Enrique Torrio, a Proud Boys leader, was sentenced to 22 years in prison after a jury of his peers found him guilty of seditious conspiracy. Stewart Rhodes, who founded the Oath Keepers, was serving an 18-year sentence on the same charges. By Tuesday afternoon, both men were free. But Trump’s move amounts to more than fulfilling a campaign promise. Former prosecutors and legal experts fear it has far-reaching implications for the rule of law in the coming years, sending a message to Trump fanatics that they can commit crimes on the President’s behalf with impunity. “I worry that it will embolden people to engage in political violence, so long as they are acting in service to the leader,” says Barbara McQuade, a former U.S. Attorney. “I think this provides license for people to engage in that kind of vigilantism, and that's a very dangerous place for a democracy to be.” To the MAGA faithful, the pardons are the culmination of a four-year saga to rewrite the history of that day. Trump and his allies have sought to recast the insurrection as an act of patriotism, and the prosecution of rioters as a grave injustice. The President, who often calls the defendants “hostages,” vowed as a candidate to clear them of criminal charges; in April, he told TIME that he would “absolutely” consider pardoning all of them. Trump’s sweeping order comes close. He commuted the sentences of 14 individuals charged with seditious conspiracy and issued "a full, complete and unconditional pardon” for all the rest—providing some form of clemency to everyone charged or convicted for the attack. To many, that’s a source of profound anxiety. Critics allege that Trump has often said just enough for extremists to think they have his blessing. After a deadly white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Va., he said there were “good people on both sides.” During a 2020 debate with former President Joe Biden, he told members of the Proud Boys to “stand back and stand by.” Scholars of the far right see the pardons as sending a conspicuous signal. “I think this is the most concrete instance of Trump conferring material benefits to people who are willing to serve as pro-MAGA vigilantes and who operate in these militia groups,” says David Noll, a Rutgers law professor and the co-author of Vigilante Nation. “I think the message they'll hear is that Trump is one of them—and Trump has their back.” After the Jan. 6 rampage, fears of violence spurred prominent anti-Trump lawmakers including Mitt Romney, Liz Cheney, and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez to spend tens of thousands of dollars in campaign funds on private security details. Trump “has quite literally released people who we know are ready, willing, and able to target Congress as it performs its constitutional functions,” says Noll. McQuade suspects Trump’s pardons could “cause a chilling effect” on everyone from legislators and federal bureaucrats to journalists and private citizens. “If they are worried that Donald Trump's rhetoric will unleash political violence against them and will then be pardoned,” she says, “I could see people engaging in self-censorship to avoid becoming a target of political violence.” That may have already happened. Romney told the journalist McKay Coppins that a Republican congressman confided in him that he chose not to vote for Trump’s second impeachment after the Capitol riot for fear of his family’s safety. The aftereffects may be most distressing to those directly impacted by the Jan. 6 assault. Former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi—who was rushed out of the House chamber after rioters breached the Capitol and whose husband was later battered with a hammer in a separate politically-motivated attack—called Trump's order "shameful” and “an outrageous insult to our justice system.” The brother of Capitol Police officer Brian Sicknick, who died from a stroke the day after the attack, told ABC News the pardons were an affront. "The man doesn't understand [the] pain or suffering of others. He can't comprehend anyone else's feelings," Craig Sicknick said. "We now have no rule of law." For some of the President’s fiercest allies, though, Trump’s pardons reflect yet another triumph that stems from the power the American people have handed him. “I don't give a damn what Democrats say about Trump's Jan. 6 pardons and commutations,” says Mike Davis, who founded the conservative Article III Project. “We won, they lost. F**k you.”

Elon Musk was visibly bursting with excitement after President Donald Trump’s inauguration. At a celebratory rally on Monday at Capitol One Arena in Washington, he pumped his fist in the air and bellowed a “Yes!” to the raucous crowd. But another gesture soon after has sent observers questioning whether Musk was expressing just joy, or something more insidious. “I just want to say thank you for making it happen,” the Tesla and SpaceX CEO and X owner told the audience of Trump supporters. Musk then slapped his chest with his right hand, before flinging it diagonally upwards, palm face down. He turned around to audience members behind the podium, and repeated the gesture. “My heart goes out to you,” the 53-year-old billionaire said, palm back on his chest. — Aaron Rupar (@atrupar) January 20, 2025 But the quick, salute-like movement drew attention as swiftly as it happened. In live commentary, CNN anchor Erin Burnett pointed the gesture out, and co-anchor Kasie Hunt noted, “It’s not something that you typically see in American political rallies.” Social media swarmed with confusion—and theories. “WTF?? What did Elon Musk just do??” one X user asked. Streamer and leftist political commentator Hasan Pike posted: “did elon musk just hit the roman salute at his inauguration speech?” Other users immediately drew comparison to a Nazi salute popularly used by Adolf Hitler. Public broadcaster PBS shared the clip on social media and reported it as “what appeared to be a fascist salute.” Musician and environmental activist Bill Madden posted: “If giving the Nazi ‘Sieg Heil’ salute was an Olympic event like gymnastics, Elon Musk would’ve received a perfect score of 10. Musk even nailed the facial expression. Seriously, Hitler would be jealous.” Ruth Ben-Ghiat, a history professor at New York University who self-identified as a “historian of fascism,” posted on Bluesky: “It was a Nazi salute and a very belligerent one too.” Israeli newspaper Haaretz reported the gesture as a “Roman salute,” and said it will “only cause greater alarm among Jews who have expressed concern with the billionaire’s proximity to Trump’s inner circle while platforming views prominent with [the] far-right.” Rolling Stone magazine reported that neo-Nazis and right-wing extremists in America and abroad were “abuzz” after the gesture, citing celebratory captions of the clip from far-right figures such as “Incredible things are happening already lmao” and “Ok maybe woke really is dead.” Rep. Jerry Nadler (D-N.Y.) posted on X that he “never imagined we would see the day when what appears to be a Heil Hitler salute would be made behind the Presidential seal. This abhorrent gesture has no place in our society and belongs in the darkest chapters of human history.” While speaking on stage at the World Economic Forum’s annual meeting in Switzerland, German Chancellor Olaf Scholz was asked by a member of the press about his reaction to Musk’s gesture, to which he responded: “We have freedom of speech in Europe and in Germany, everyone can say what he wants, even if he is a billionaire. What we do not accept is if this is supporting extreme right positions.” (In Germany, performing the Nazi salute is illegal.) However, some others have come to Musk’s defense. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL), an organization whose mission is to combat antisemitism and which describes a “Hitler salute” as one with an “outstretched right arm with the palm down,” posted on X shortly after the incident that the billionaire Trump mega-donor “made an awkward gesture in a moment of enthusiasm, not a Nazi salute,” and that “all sides should give one another a bit of grace, perhaps even the benefit of the doubt, and take a breath.” Eyal Yakoby, a University of Pennsylvania graduate who campaigned against antisemitism on college campuses, called it “a stupid hand gesture” in a post on X, adding: “Anyone trying to portray him as a Nazi is intentionally misleading the public.” Aaron Astor, a history professor at Maryville College in Tennessee, posted: “This is a socially awkward autistic man’s wave to the crowd where he says ‘my heart goes out to you.’” (Musk has previously disclosed that he has Asperger’s syndrome, also known as autism spectrum disorder.) Newsweek opinion editor Batya Ungar-Sargon offered a similar explanation, adding: “We don’t need to invent outrage.” Musk has previously been criticized for allowing pro-Nazi accounts to flourish on his platform and for posting right-wing memes and seemingly supporting antisemitic conspiracy theories, which led to an exodus of advertisers from X in 2023, and for recently supporting Germany’s far-right populist AfD party, whose leaders have made “antisemitic, anti-Muslim and anti-democratic” statements, according to the ADL. The debate over Musk’s latest move has added fuel to other ongoing feuds, too. Progressive firebrand Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-N.Y.) targeted the ADL, which has been accused by the left of turning a blind eye toward Trump and his allies, in a post on X, saying: “Just to be clear, you are defending a Heil Hitler salute that was performed and repeated for emphasis and clarity. People can officially stop listening to you as any sort of reputable source of information now. You work for them. Thank you for making that crystal clear to all.” Staunch Trump supporter Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.), meanwhile, threatened PBS by saying she would call it to testify before the oversight subcommittee she chairs that is set to work with the newly-formed Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), which Musk oversees. “I look forward to PBS @NewsHour coming before my committee and explaining why lying and spreading propaganda to serve the Democrat party and attack Republicans is a good use of taxpayer funds,” Greene posted. Musk did not directly address the controversy Monday night, though he replied to a number of posts on X about it—thanking the ADL, mocking Ocasio-Cortez, and agreeing with a post that said: “Can we please retire the calling people a Nazi thing? It didn’t work during the election, it’s not working now, it’s tired, boring, and old material, you’ve burned out its effect, people don’t feel shocked by it anymore, the wolf has been cried too many times.”

This article is part of The D.C. Brief, TIME’s politics newsletter. Sign up here to get stories like this sent to your inbox. President Donald Trump used his second inaugural address on Monday to paint a grim picture of the country he now leads. And then he upped the ante by marching over to supporters nearby to give the speech he said his aides wouldn’t let him deliver: a rambling series of grievances, gimmicks, and gloating. “I think this was a better speech than the one I made upstairs,” Trump said as he circled for a much overdue closing. “I gave you the A-plus treatment.” Only an hour into his second term as President, Trump used his unscripted appearances to renew his claims about having won the 2016 election, his denials about what actually unfolded on Jan. 6, 2021, and his barbs against political foes Nancy Pelosi, Hillary Clinton, Liz Cheney, and Adam Kinzinger, whom he branded “a super-cryer. I never saw the guy not crying.” Everything old is new again in Trump’s Washington, but that doesn’t mean it stands to be any less acrid. If anything, all signs point to a darker, more aggressive agenda. When Trump arrived in Washington eight years ago, he shocked the establishment with a speech now short-handed as “American Carnage.” This sequel was similar in its angry, bleak tone but amped up with little of the polish that some in Washington had hoped would signal Trump’s second term might be less spiteful than the first go-around. The caustic posture made it clear that the second Trump term would not be constrained in any meaningful way. “From this moment on, America’s decline is over,” Trump said in the vetted speech as his predecessor looked on. Even so, Trump said Vice President J.D. Vance and First Lady Melania Trump convinced him to tone down the main event. But after he took the oath and saw President Joe Biden leave the Capitol for one last flight on Marine One, Trump made his way to the Capitol Visitors Center to give the uncensored rough cut that sounded even more like the disjointed vamp he delivered a night earlier in a sports arena. “They said, ‘Please don’t bring that up right now. You can bring it up tomorrow.’ I said, ‘How ’bout now?’” Trump said during his do-over inaugural, mentioning looming pardons for those who stormed the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021. It was a fitting end to a campaign season that included four indictments, one conviction, and two assassination attempts. The hype machine around Trump is hitting its high-water mark. In coordinated comments in recent weeks, those close to Trump have made clear anything resembling business as usual was too much to hope for after Monday at noon. “It’s goodbye, Joe Biden. Goodbye, Kamala Harris. Goodbye, Democrats. And hello to the golden age of America,” Trump deputy chief of staff Stephen Miller said Sunday evening at that campaign rally. Elsewhere in the event, former Fox News anchor Megyn Kelly used her turn at the podium to mock Jennifer Lopez, Meryl Streep, and Oprah Winfrey. “In America, we have the right to free speech, we have the right to offend, to provoke, to annoy, and to stand up for what we believe in even if you find it controversial,” she said. “We have the right not to use the words you try to force on us, like your preferred pronouns, or words like anti-racist or chest-beating.” That hostile default is one that pervaded all of the welcome-home events for Trump. As the crowds around Washington gathered, it was clear that much of the empowered political movement was ready for its time in control. It was a fighting spirit that stands to upend Washington in ways that are still unknown. Trump rode back to office with promises of cutting taxes, ending inflation, slashing prices, raising wages, and reopening domestic factories. Abroad, he pledged to end the war in Ukraine, tumult in the Middle East, and act as a stronger check on China. While he has since walked back some of those promises, they proved sufficient to mobilize voters to side with him over Kamala Harris, who sat in the front row Monday and watched her rival claim the prize she sought as he pledged to plant a U.S. flag on the surface of Mars. “This is what victory feels like,” the world’s richest man, Elon Musk, told a crowd Monday afternoon at a rally that followed the formal transfer of power. “I’m so excited for the future.” The promises of retribution were at the fore, too, including for former health czar Anthony Fauci, who received a preemptive pardon from Biden in his final hours. "I never met anybody in prison who did as bad stuff as those people,” former Trump trade adviser Peter Navarro said, referring to Fauci and others. “Time for a little accountability perhaps.” That muscular threat started from the top with Trump pumping himself—and his supporters—up. “Here I am. The American people have spoken,” Trump said in the Capitol Rotunda on Monday.

Minutes after being sworn into office, President Donald Trump laid out a series of tough actions he’s taking to stop border crossings between ports of entry and begin deporting some of millions of people in the U.S. without authorization. Those policy changes were expected to start rolling in fast in the first hours and days of his second term after a campaign in which Trump vowed to launch the largest deportation operation in the country’s history. Among his first actions back in office, Trump declared a national emergency at the border, which will free up military funding to build more sections of a border wall, support operations to stop border crossings, and send troops to the southern border to, as he said in his Inaugural Address, “repel the disastrous invasion of our country.” In a sweeping proclamation that “the current situation at the southern border qualifies as an invasion under Article IV, Section 4 of the Constitution of the United States,” Trump proclaimed the suspension of physical entry of “aliens engaged in the invasion” across the southern border and directed his Cabinet members to “take all appropriate action to repel, repatriate, or remove any alien engaged in the invasion,” including expressly revoking the right for migrants to invoke an asylum claim. In separate executive actions, Trump has attempted to redefine birthright citizenship, which is currently protected by the 14th Amendment of the Constitution, and he suspended the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program. Trump also ordered the Secretary of Defense—for which his nominee, Pete Hegseth, is not yet confirmed—to assign the U.S. Northern Command, a joint military command set up after 9/11 to combat terrorism and attacks on the U.S., “the mission to seal the borders.” And he designated cartels as foreign terrorist organizations. In his Inaugural Address, Trump also said he would reinstate the “Remain in Mexico” policy that demands people seeking asylum wait outside the U.S. while their cases are considered—a move that will require cooperation from the Mexican government. Trump also pledged to use the 1798 Alien Enemies Act to pressure state and local police to arrest and help deport foreign-born people in the U.S. illegally. The impact on the border of Trump’s Inauguration was immediate. Moments after Trump was formally sworn in, people waiting at border crossings in Mexico reportedly had their asylum appointments canceled by Customs and Border Protection, and received messages that the federal program that used a phone app called CBP One to set up appointments for asylum seekers was now canceled. The Biden Administration started that program to create a more orderly system for people to seek asylum and deter migrants from crossing between points of entry and surrendering themselves to Border Patrol agents in order to have their claim heard. Many of Trump’s actions will likely be challenged in court, as they were during his first term. When Trump declared a similar national emergency on the border in 2019 in order to justify using military funds for building a border wall, courts blocked the move, saying a military construction project needed to be in support of a military deployment. Elizabeth Goitein, senior director of the Brennan Center's Liberty and National Security Program, says that Trump is overreaching with his use of emergency powers, especially since the number of people crossing the border unlawfully has been declining in recent months. “This is an abuse of emergency powers for the same reason it was before,” Goitein says, “Emergency powers are not meant to address long-standing problems that Congress has the power to solve.”

When will it end? A blast of Arctic air continued to batter much of the United States on Tuesday, testing the South and even the hardiest of Northeasterners. A rare winter storm made its way across the Gulf Coast on Tuesday, prompting blizzard warnings for the first time in parts of Texas and Louisiana. Snow could last for days from Houston to Tallahassee, Fla., because of a major piece of equipment is largely missing in the region: snow plows. The brutal cold — with temperatures plunging far below normal for January and bringing potentially dangerous conditions when combined with wind — will continue to plague much of the country over the next week. The bleak forecast forced many indoors. For others, the dogs still had to be walked. Here are scenes from across a country bracing itself against the cold.

One by one, they had all trickled into the walnut-paneled Mansfield Room. Donald Trump had just made another improbable return: his first visit to the U.S. Capitol since a mob of his supporters stormed the building on Jan. 6, 2021. Now, just days away from reclaiming power, the President-elect was there to meet with the 52 Republican Senators of the 119th Congress about advancing his legislative agenda: a massive border security package, extending his 2017 tax cuts, and dispensing with the debt ceiling. After more than an hour of wrangling over strategy, Senator Shelley Moore Capito of West Virginia, tried to wrap things up, according to one of the GOP senators present. “Sir,” she told Trump, “I want to respect your time and get you out of here so you can move on to your other commitments.” Trump raised his eyebrows and interjected. “I have no other commitments,” he said. “This is my legacy.” The Jan. 8 meeting lasted nearly another hour. Despite Trump’s visions of enhanced executive authority, it was a recognition that his success will rest on the cooperation—or capitulation—of others. Even before his inauguration, he has been racking up wins. When Israel and Hamas announced a ceasefire after 15 months of war, Israeli officials credited Trump’s demand that the terror group release the hostages or else “all hell will break loose.” As President Biden warned in his farewell address of an ultra-wealthy oligarchy taking shape, the corporate titans he was referencing were cozying up to Trump in unsubtle displays of anticipatory obedience. Congressional Republicans similarly continue to bend to his will—whether it’s the few House members who threatened to derail Mike Johnson’s reelection for Speaker of the House, or the key Senator who expressed doubts about former Fox News host Pete Hegseth as Defense Secretary. Ultimately, they all backed down. “The way he went to bat for Mike Johnson and cracked down on dissenters sent a message to me and a lot of others to back off,” says a Republican Senator close to Trump. “Don’t ruin this.” Even with all that political capital, Trump still faces limits to his power. Republican legislators balked at his request to use recess appointments to install his more controversial Cabinet picks. When it became clear there were enough holdouts to tank his choice of Matt Gaetz for Attorney General, Trump told the former Florida congressman to step aside. Today, he’s navigating the competing demands of Republicans in purple and ruby red districts as they try to carve out a legislative framework for his signature domestic priorities. And despite Trump’s GOP having full control of Washington, the threat of internecine divisions derailing his plans looms large. “When you have majorities in each chamber,” a Trump advisor says, “the worry is that it would become a circular firing squad.” That remains a possibility. For Trump, who won on a promise to reshape government, the greatest obstacle may be just how far his own party is willing to let him go. In private meetings, sources close to Trump say the President keeps expressing a desire to move fast, fully aware that the window for maximal disruption won’t stay open for long. “Your biggest opportunities for change are in the first couple of years, and even more so in the first 18 months, because that's ahead of elections,” says a senior Trump official. “He's at the apex of power now. Every month that goes by, he has a little bit less.” If you want to know how a candidate will govern, the clues are often in how they campaigned. Trump’s 2016 bid was marked by chaos, leaking, and vicious infighting. He trudged through three separate campaign managers. His 2024 campaign was far more disciplined; there was hardly any turnover and they succeeded in ways few saw coming: broadening the tent while pleasing his base, winning the popular vote, and clinching a decisive Electoral College victory. Much of that credit goes to Susie Wiles, his de facto underboss who will serve as White House Chief of Staff. So there was little surprise when Trump asked Wiles to take on the vital role. Inside the West Wing, she will be tasked with maintaining order and cohesion among the executive branch and Trump’s far-flung coalition. One of Trump’s deputy chiefs of staff, James Blair, will be a liaison to Congress. Another longtime advisor, Stephen Miller, will have broad discretion to shape executive policy, while Dan Scavino will manage Trump’s social media and be a constant presence by his side. Taylor Budowich, a seasoned MAGA stalwart, will oversee hiring in the executive branch and media strategy. All of them worked on the last campaign and will try to translate an operation that worked for them on the trail into a model for unconventional governance. As Trump’s Cabinet picks were sending shockwaves through Washington late last month, Wiles laid out a theory of her boss's unorthodox appointments in a call with senior transition staff: “RFK is going to be a disruptor, Elon Musk is going to be a disruptor. Kash Patel is going to be a disruptor.” One of Trump’s biggest regrets of his first term, he told TIME in April, was the people he hired who tried to block his most norm-shattering, and in some cases dangerous, ideas. But now he’s been elected on an unambiguous promise to wage war on the institutions of government and deliver sweeping transformations. His Cabinet nominees, Wiles told her underlings, according to two sources familiar with the call, were chosen to deliver on that promise. “He wants people that can disrupt alongside him.” Read More: Donald Trump’s Disruption Is Back To critics, Trump’s nominations reflect another impulse: to install obedient, often inexperienced, acolytes who will acquiesce to his demands to turn the government into an instrument for his own self-interest. In some instances, Trump’s antagonists see an explicit quid pro quo. In exchange for Kennedy endorsing Trump last summer, says Lisa Gilbert, co-president of the progressive government watchdog Public Citizen, Trump picked the vaccine critic to lead the Department of Health and Human Services. In exchange for Musk donating $250 million to his campaign, she alleges, Trump rewarded the billionaire whose businesses hold various U.S. government contracts with his own commission tasked with shrinking the size of government. “There is no clearer instance of a direct tit-for-tat interaction,” says Gilbert. Beyond Trump’s Cabinet and inner circle, the administration expects to harness an array of outside groups, social media influencers, and right-wing media personalities to shape narratives and apply pressure on Republicans who might obstruct the Trump agenda. They were already deployed in full force to squash any GOP squeamishness on Hegseth, who Trump wants to lead the Pentagon despite questions about his experience, his views, and accusations leveled against him of alcohol abuse and sexual assault that he’s denied. When Iowa Sen. Joni Ernst, a veteran up for re-election in two years, expressed reservation about Hegseth, who has said women should not serve in combat, she drew an onslaught of social media harassment, revved up by the likes of Steve Bannon and Gaetz, now an anchor for the pro-Trump One America News Network. “How do I make it stop?” Ernst asked one of her fellow Republican senators, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss private conversations. “She toe-dipped in her opposition,” the GOP senator tells TIME, “and felt the immediate backlash.” Another source familiar with the matter tells TIME that a Trump ally informed Ernst that the President would support a primary challenge against her in Iowa—where Trump won the caucuses last year by roughly 30 points—if she blocked Hegseth. At the same time, Musk quietly back-channeled a message to Senators, according to two sources familiar with the matter: anyone who votes against Trump’s Cabinet secretaries will face a multi-million dollar Musk-funded Super PAC to oust them from office in their next primary. Ernst ultimately signaled she would back Hegseth. “That's the reality that all these members live in the next couple years here,” says a source close to Trump. “They all get in line at the end of the day.” There’s still always the potential for trouble in a MAGA paradise. There are competing factions within Trump’s orbit with their own agendas. Some of that has already spilled into public view, such as Bannon’s tussle with Musk over H1B visas, through which U.S. companies, including Musk’s, import skilled workers from other countries. To Trump, the argument is part of the fun—and his decision-making process. “He doesn’t mind the squabble,” says a Trump aide. “He likes to see the conversation hash out and see where the conversation online lives and where the base is on things.” In the end, Trump sided with the SpaceX founder over whether the H-1B program was worth continuing. Trump, after all, uses them at his clubs and hotels. Plus Musk has more than $300 billion. Bannon does not. But over the coming years, such quarrels may serve as a barometer for which voices in his ear will have the most influence, and the extent to which Trump remains sensitive to public pushback. Trump aides say he is more intent than he was in his first term on remaking the federal bureaucracy, and less concerned with appeasing those who might stand in his way. “His risk tolerance is higher,” says a senior Trump official.