There is a cold wind that blows every time Donald Trump opens his mouth to belittle a woman who dares to ask him a question. You can feel it in the room—sharp, metallic, the temperature dropping with each insult. It is the weather pattern of a man who fears the truth and fears the women who speak it aloud.
Last week, that wind swept through Air Force One when Bloomberg reporter Catherine Lucey pressed him on the Epstein files. A reasonable question in a democracy: If there’s nothing incriminating, why fight so hard to keep the documents sealed? Trump wheeled toward her, finger stabbing the air, and snarled, “Quiet! Quiet, piggy.”
A president reduced to playground cruelty, trembling at the ankles of a woman doing her job.
Lucey returned two days later—undaunted. Her courage was met with more schoolyard taunts: “You are the worst … I don’t know why they even have you.”
That is the tell of a man losing control: a loud desperation masquerading as swagger. The sound of someone terrified that truth might be closing in.
And in the Oval Office, before the Saudi crown prince whose government murdered and dismembered journalist Jamal Khashoggi, according to U.S. intelligence, ABC correspondent Mary Bruce asked a question that should haunt any head of state: Is it appropriate for your family to do business in Saudi Arabia while you’re president? Trump answered not with facts, not with transparency, but with fury. “You are a terrible reporter … a terrible person.”
This is who he is. The man who excuses the killing of a journalist with a shrugging: “Things happen.” Things like bone saws. Things like silenced voices. Things like governments built on fear—governments he admires.
And always, always, his rage sharpens when the question comes from a woman. He has mocked them all—Hillary Clinton, Kamala Harris, Nancy Pelosi, Gail Collins and countless others. “Nasty.” “Crazy.” “Dumb.” “Second-rate.”
He uses words as weapons because he knows women carry the receipts, the memories, the truth he cannot outrun.
And yet, not one of the male reporters standing beside Lucey or Bruce spoke up. Access is a fragile currency in Washington; solidarity is too often spent last. But women in journalism have never had the luxury of silence, and they will not begin now.
At Ms., we name this behavior for what it is: despicable. Dangerous. A direct attack, not just on these women, but on the very idea of a free press. Trump’s contempt for women and truth is not a glitch—it is the operating system.
Unlike the outlets that tremble at losing corporate advertising or political favor, Ms. magazine stands independent. Unbought. Unbossed.
And we will keep telling the truth about Trump, about Epstein, about the women and children harmed, exploited, dismissed, erased.
We owe it to every reporter who stands in the storm.
We owe it to the victims who never got to ask their own questions.
We owe it to the truth, which will outlast every insult, every bully, every man who tries to bury it.
Ms. will not be quiet.
Not now. Not ever.
Great Job Kathy Spillar & the Team @ Ms. Magazine Source link for sharing this story.
