Karen Attiah

Talking with the journalist the Washington Post fired for being honest

After Charlie Kirk was murdered, Karen Attiah — editor of the Washington Post’s Global Opinions, and its last full-time Black opinion writer — was fired for social media posts in which she said she refused to “tear my clothes and smear ashes on my face in performative mourning for a white man that espoused violence.” She didn’t espouse violence or celebrate Kirk’s death, but apparently describing who he was is a firing offense.

I spoke with her Thursday. Transcript follows:

. . .

TRANSCRIPT:
Paul Krugman in Conversation with Karen Attiah

(recorded 9/18/25)

Paul Krugman: Hi there. I'm talking to Karen Attiah, who is in the news for bad reasons. She was the Global Opinions Editor at the Washington Post and was fired abruptly as far as I can make out, for some perfectly reasonable, social media posts regarding the Charlie Kirk murder. We want to talk about all of that.

So, hi Karen.

Karen Attiah: Hi, Paul. Thanks for having me.

Krugman: Yeah, thanks for making time. I'm sure that the whole world wants to talk to you about these horrible things. We want to get to the firing and the whole Charlie Kirk thing in a bit, but first, you were Global Opinions Editor. Do you want to tell me about what that meant and what you were doing?

Attiah: Sure. So, I started off as a freelance reporter at the Associated Press in the Caribbean. But my background is actually in international affairs. I went to Columbia for graduate school. I actually thought I wanted to be a diplomat, you know, work for the UN, World Bank. So that was my world. And then I decided journalism was a better way of understanding the world, actually getting to listen to what people needed and wanted in their lives rather than being on the sort of policy end.

So I made the switch in 2013. I landed my dream position at the Post. I was an editor.

I got to be a digital editor, a producer, under the late editorial page editor, Fred Hiatt. He just saw promise in my work and in my commentary. I came out swinging. My first piece was criticizing the president of Nigeria for how he handled the Boko Haram girls. I don't know if people remember that.

Krugman: Yeah, actually, tell us because I don't think people know that story.

Attiah: If people remember, Nigeria was making global news for the Boko Haram terrorist group who were just cutting a swath—slaughtering people and kidnapping children—in the northeastern part of Nigeria. And, right before I started, that was when they kidnaped something like 200 girls out of Chibok. So the whole world's watching.

People probably remember the Bring Back our Girls campaign.

Krugman: Yeah. Right.

Attiah: Michelle Obama was on it. This was the beginning of, like, global hashtag activism. So that was my entry into the Post and speaking against power. My first piece was making fun of Goodluck Jonathan, who was the president at the time. And I remember writing a satire, like making fun of his empty promises. He had written a piece in the Post saying he was going to do everything that he could to bring back the girls, but I knew they were cracking down on protesters. I knew they were refusing to travel to that area to even meet with the girls’ families. So I knew what he was saying in the Post was PR propaganda. So they let me criticize him.

Krugman: So were you editing at that point, were you columnizing, or both?

Attiah: I was both. I came in and I was just supposed to do headlines and fix the website. So, like, the technical stuff moving boxes around. But, my boss Fredd Hiatt said, “Well, if you have something to say, we're open to letting anyone speak.”

So I was like, “Well, okay. If you give me an inch, I'll take a mile.” My background is in African Studies, so this was an issue I'd been studying for a while. My mother is from

Nigeria, is a refugee of the Biafran war. So this was something I just felt strongly about.

And Fred was like, “Okay, give it a shot.” And I decided to take the Nigerian President, Goodluck Jonathan, to task.

And I remember Goodluck Jonathan's folks were so upset with the piece and they said,

“How dare you guys let this person—you know, we don't even know who she is. How dare you let her?” But Fred Hiatt had my back at the Washington Post. They defended me and here I am some 11 years later, being fired from the Washington Post. The exact opposite of being defended for speaking truth to power. I'm still wrapping my head around it, to be honest with you, Paul. It's still fresh while we're recording this.

Krugman: Yeah, this must be hard. But just to stay a bit more on background.

Global Opinion is a sort of subset. You were trying to get people from around the world to comment, to sort of expose things.

Attiah: Yeah, exactly. I took that sort of experience that I'd had in the international affairs space, and we actually had a mandate really from Bezos himself. The whole paper was like, “Well, we need to expand our international reach.” And I raised my hand and I said, I would love to build that for the section, kind of be the one who's the point person between the writers and the section.

So I was the founding editor. I got to recruit writers, got to spend a lot of time with them, edit them, try to help keep Washington Post readers abreast of what was happening in other countries and not have to go through what I like to call the professional interpreter class; all the think tanks that we have here in Washington. Folks who are like, “This is what the people want in xyz country.” I'm like, “Oh, here's a chance for readers to hear directly from writers who are actually from the country who can speak for themselves.

So, I recruited everyone from Barkha Dutt of India, Rana Ayuub, and then of course most famously, what people probably know me for, unfortunately, is Jamal Khashoggi, the Saudi journalist who would end up being murdered just a year after I hired him.

Krugman: So you actually hired him for the Post.

Attiah: I hired him. I found him, I found his quote, after Mohammed bin Salman, the crown prince, was cracking down on dissent. I found his name in the paper, and I said, “I don't know why, but I need to get that guy. I need to get his response.”

Krugman: Wow. It was probably a terrific thing for him to be able to have a platform free from the government censorship in Saudi Arabia but also, as it turns out, a very dangerous thing.

Attiah: Absolutely. That's the first thing he said when he met me after we did his first piece, which went viral. It was his first time speaking out since the Saudi government banned him from writing. And what a lot of people don't know is he was banned from writing in Saudi Arabia because he criticized Trump. A lot of people don't know that.

Krugman: My God, even back then.

Attiah: Even back then, Jamal Khashoggi was the canary in the coal mine. I'm still processing it myself. But he was banned by Mohammed bin Salman in 2016 because he criticized Trump and MBS’s budding relationship, and he was warning people about Trump and they stopped him from writing for almost an entire year.

Krugman: So much of what we're going through now was foreshadowed.

Attiah: Correct.

Krugman: So, how many pieces were you running? Because Americans really don’t hear much from the outside world. We're a very insular country in a lot of ways.

Attiah: Yeah, we were running several pieces a day. And it wasn't just about politics.

I mean, this is also around the time of Brexit. This is also around the time of people wanting to know a bit more about the global #MeToo movement which was a global movement. So we were able to get international commentary on how iterations of cultural trends were being sort of filtered and interpreted and and circulating in different parts of the world.

So I think during that time, we were able to build such an interesting and also diverse section. I had writers from Kenya, writers from Saudi Arabia, India, Germany, Australia, you name it. Mexico. All over. We had the world here and we were a safe home for journalism. We were the global opinion section. What we were trying to do is to say, “You have a home here, even the articles and pieces that we disagree with. We were criticized for running pieces by all sorts of groups. I mean, there was a piece run from the Houthis in Yemen. So that was our job, to allow this range.

Krugman: And how did readers respond? I'm just curious, because my original background is in international economics, and in my years at the Times, I would generally find that when I wrote about other countries, a lot of readers would say,

“No, focus on George Bush and what's wrong with him.” But anyway.

Attiah: Well, I think it takes time for writers to find their voice, to find their comfort in writing both for their audience and for an American audience. So I think by 2 or 3 years, as you're developing a writer, they're consistently posting and people are starting to get to know their voice and they're starting to develop minds of coverage.

Anyone following Jamal Khashoggi from his first piece to, unfortunately, his last piece, Americans started to get to know him and started to get to know that he really loved his country. If you read his work, even some people, his critics might say a little too much despite what they were doing to him. So I think that's just the process. People identify with other people and with other voices. They're saying, “Oh, Jamal’s here. Okay. I'm starting to get to know this person.” And through this person, through this writer, they’re starting to understand where they come from.

Krugman: Okay. So it must have been really thrilling to do this, treading new ground.

I mean, I have to say, I never paid much attention at all to anything anybody else was doing at the Times. But I don't think there was anything equivalent. There was just not, similar outreach. No global perspective, except the usual coverage.

Attiah: Yeah. And I credit that so much to, again, my late editor, and editorial page editor, Fred Hiatt and Jackson Diehl, who've had long, long careers in reporting from overseas and in Russia and Latin America. For me, to work under them, I basically almost apprenticed under them. They cared so much about human rights and democracy. And even though we sometimes disagreed politically, there was a sense that they believed in America's power to do good and by extension, the Washington Post's ability to do good.

Now, of course, I come in there and I'm coming from these different backgrounds and I didn't go to journalism school, but I was just very passionate about the global South in general, passionate about Africa in general. And I believe that Africa and those issues should have a place in the pages just as much as European coverage.

And so I insisted on having continental representation, as well.

But the heart of it was Fred Hiatt and that crop of leadership who had seen firsthand what it looks like in other countries to lose your voice in authoritarian countries. And they brought that to the journals and then those of us who worked with them every day.

Fred Hiatt used to tell me there'd be human rights activists coming to Washington, in and out every day trying to plead their case, trying to get someone in power to listen to them.

And he wanted us to create a space so that people who are in trouble, who are oppressed, could know that they could physically come to the Washington Post and at least we would sit and listen to them. You know?

Krugman: It sounds like you felt that you had a lot of freedom to sort out who to promote and what issues. And you were writing yourself occasionally through that, right?

Attiah: Yeah, I was writing as well, doing a lot of jobs. But like I said, maybe it's

because it's my background. My mother is a refugee from Nigeria's brutal Biafra war.

Krugman: I'm old enough to remember that. You have family history, but I suspect most people have no idea. But that was really one of the most brutal wars, and that's saying a lot.

Attiah: Yeah. More than a million people died in that war. And my mother was able to get out. Her family had to start over. And so for me, I guess the idea of people needing journalistic refuge is something that sticks with me, you know? Someone's voice not being able to be expressed and that America and again, by extension, the Post—or the Post and by extension, America—was a place where you could come and express yourself.

Krugman: Yeah. The Post has a really storied history. Of course, everyone thinks Watergate, but much more than that. And so you were continuing that tradition.

Attiah: It felt that way. I was given a lot of freedom, a lot of leeway, a lot of power, honestly, to be able to say, “I want that writer, I want that writer, I want this coverage. This is what we need.” So I was really empowered, at the time. And the editor

that I am, the journalist that I am, I spent a lot of time with writers because I know what it's like to want to feel like your voice is being heard and represented and that your voice is yours. That’s the one thing Jamal told me after I was editing one of his columns. I still have all his text messages. He was finally, like, “Okay. Yes, I like this. This sounds like me.” And then I was like, “Okay.”

Krugman: So, you were editing to improve, you were trying to make it sound like the writer's voice.

Attiah: Yeah. So that they liked what they saw, that you see yourself in your piece.

And so I think that's what made it not only global, but these writers had their voices.

And I think that's what made it distinctive and what made us really popular as a destination for international writers to come. And people started to get to know that the Washington Post has a global opinion section.

So over time it grew and we added to the roster. We onboarded more editors, actually.

So we were up to getting three editors. So it really grew. And I remember,

again, Bezos himself saying, “Go for it. Go get those markets, be provocative.”

And yeah, it's still just stunning sitting here. Almost like having all of that destroyed.

Krugman: Was this out of the blue, or was there a gradual process? I mean, obviously the firing was not a gradual process, but was there a gradual erosion of your independence, or your feeling of independence, or was it just that things had continued

as they had been and then abruptly…?

Attiah: Well, I mean, I think I can say, and I've said it on social media and anyone who is in Washington knows, I mean, definitely. Fred Hiatt passed away abruptly in 2021 and again, at least for me and for a lot of us, he was definitely a beacon for how to use the platform not only for good for other people, but I think for me personally, to be able to just do my job.

I spent time as an editor, and then I moved into columnizing. But even as I was learning

how to write editorials, I was learning how to write in the editorial voice. I was also learning to write in my own voice and then learning how to edit other people's voices.

He always said, and I think about this every day, “We get the opportunity to write the world not just as it is, but as it should be.”

Krugman: Right.

Attiah: And so I think for me, especially, after his death, it's like losing a mentor. It's like losing someone who I'm like, “that's the type of journalist I want to be like.” And not just that, but being able to have those opportunities at that time. So of course things changed. I mean, I didn’t change. I never changed my values, my stance, my journalism.

I was brought on especially to write and opine and to help amplify the pages, particularly

about race, about these issues and forces that are shaping society.

I was, at one time, trusted to do that. And now today, being fired for doing what I've been trained to do, taught to do and encouraged to do. And for just speaking the truth.

Krugman: I still want to postpone for just a minute talking about the actual firing.

Attiah: Yeah.

Krugman: It’s just the reason I'm asking is, I was incredibly lucky to make an extremely low key, graceful exit. But, in some sense, I saw the writing on the wall myself.

But, you know, I had 24 years of more or less complete autonomy. And then in my final year with the Times, it suddenly wasn't that way anymore. But so, did you see the writing on the wall? Or was it really that just all of a sudden, it was not okay?

Attiah: Well, there's a lot more I have to say about the details of a lot of things, probably for a later day. All I can say is, no matter what, and people can read my posts,

when there were changes, I still spoke the truth. I still did the job I was hired to do, you know? Despite all sorts of [panic along the lines of] “what's going on? what's going on?” I think I kept my head down. Friends and family were like, “Just keep doing the work. Just keep doing the work.” And that's what I tried to do. I guess it was just to try and stay as consistent as possible until the end, I guess.

Krugman: And how much had you been writing about race in America? I mean, obviously that was what brought on the apocalypse here, but… The global opinions thing

was a lot about conflict abroad. But you have been focused for a long time on stuff in the US.

Attiah: I wrote a lot about international affairs and politics. I wrote a lot about human rights abuses abroad. I wrote quite a bit about the sort of global refugee crisis. I wrote a lot about far right movements across Europe, particularly when it came to women, including rhetoric about women's rights, as well. So my scope has always been international, which the section liked and is just kind of who I am. I'm interested in a lot of things and I'm an internationalist at heart. I believe that our world is more interconnected than Americans would like to believe.

So, for me, I always tried to write with an eye for connecting dots. I'll give an example.

Watching my colleagues being arrested and teargassed in Ferguson and then seeing Palestinian activists giving advice to American journalists or protesters about how to get the tear gas out of their eyes and how to deal with it. Because they're like, “Well, these are the same forces that we have to deal with. These are the same sort of oppressions.

This is the same. Literally, the brand of the tear gas is, like, what we know.” Right?

Krugman: I mean, the same things are everywhere. But, you know, being kind of an internationalist myself, I'm in Europe right now and hearing about the AfD and the FN. But I always tell my hosts, you know, “I'm one of maybe 20 Americans who actually knows what we’re talking about here.” We are kind of insular. But you were always on this.

Attiah: Yeah. And that's how I think about race in a lot of ways, and about these concepts of “the other” when it comes to especially immigration issues, when it comes to our international relations issues. I've always seen that, and how those operate as a part of how we should understand our world and the sort of world order that we're in. So it’s always been a part of how I look at people and countries and how nations relate to each other or don't.

Krugman: And so suddenly, here we are. And we get the killing of Charlie Kirk and everyone of a certain sort of sensibility is saying, “This is horrible. Murder is really a terrible thing.” But then there's this pressure to sanctify the victim and immediate claims that there were all these people on the left who were celebrating. Of whom I know not one. There must be some out there. There's always somebody. But you were pretty forthright and just saying on social media that we can make a separation here, that he was not a favorable influence.

Attiah: Yeah. I mean, my whole career has been against political violence. It's been that I do not believe political violence has a place in human relations in general. This is the whole reason why we have everything from the interpersonal: How do we control our own emotions so that we don't hurt other people? To, how do we enact conditions like gun control or the entire concept of treaties in the United Nations and diplomacy so that wars don't happen? So that we don't resort to violence.

So for me, part of my immediate thought and also just my training as a journalist is, especially during breaking news, to be as balanced and as measured as possible.

And so, my first reaction was: there's a lot we don’t know. I said on BlueSky that we didn't know the shooter. We didn't know the motive. Right? I knew enough about Charlie Kirk to know that this is a controversial figure, which is why, journalistically,

I am trained to exercise a whole lot of restraint and just keep things to America.

And again, we've already forgotten this, right? The same day Charlie Kirk was killed, there was a shooting in Colorado. So for me, with both of those things happening at the same time, my job has always been to, again, look at America. And I was looking at the rhetoric. A lot of us were looking at how the rhetoric is the same thing: “Thoughts and prayers.” It was the same thing. “Political violence has no place.” The same thing. “This is not who we are.”

I'm from Dallas, Paul. I'm from Dallas, Texas, where the Kennedy assassination looms large over that city still to this day. So for me, it's like in my bones. Political violence

shouldn't have a place in America. But...it’s there.

Krugman: I mean, it's always said with good intentions that “this is not who we are.”

But kind of it is. Right? It’s who we are all too often.

Attiah: And that's all I said. And I think words mean things. I'm not one who likes empty rhetoric without actions actually being done. What are we doing to curb this violence? And part of my job in looking at this overall pattern of America when it comes to political violence, is referring to the data and the historical patterns; that this politically motivated, horrific violence has historically been done by white men. Not all white men, of course, but if you're going to use the gun to solve your issues, I think you're violent.

So that's all I said.

That part of our normalization of these things is what keeps us in this dark loop. So I thought nothing of it. This is something I've said. So many people are saying the same things. It’s something I've written about. This is something that is backed by data, backed by DOJ reports, FBI reports saying that the number one threat here is this type of violence.

Krugman: So let me just intervene for the sake of listeners who may not know this,

but yeah, we’re seeing a lot of incredible claims that somehow left wingers are more violent in America. You know, whatever your political views, that's just not true, right?

The vast majority of political murders in America are right wing and are, as you say, white men.

And people are people and there are terrible people of every skin color. But if we ask, who carries out assassinations in America? It is disproportionately white men. And that's

kind of all that you said, right?

Attiah: Yeah. I was doing my job. And again, I think for a lot of this, sometimes people don't understand. You know, I’m an opinion journalist. I graduated to a columnist job and part of my job is to exercise restraint. And knowing that the murder was horrific. And I said that. ‘Murder is wrong. At the same time, we have to deal with a figure who espoused views that disparage many, many groups of people.’

Right?

Krugman: Right.

Attiah: So, the journalist in me says, ‘Okay, don't rush to judgment. Don't rush to assign motives, claims or anything like that.’ But then also not to rush to lionize or sanctify someone with such a track record. I just couldn't do that. And I thought I explained that and I thought that was fair and that was reasonable and that it's always good to wait, right? It's always good to wait. But it seems that my expressing that out loud, that I wouldn't tear my clothes and smear ashes on my face in an over-the-top performance… Like I said, I hate empty rhetoric. This is what I write.

And then all of a sudden, my job that I've been paid to do, won awards for, gotten recognition for the Washington Post, all of a sudden that was considered gross…that was not acceptable.

Krugman: Yeah. So, this has been an extraordinary thing. You would have thought that saying, “Look, I don't like what this guy stood for, but that doesn't justify murder. But let's be honest about political violence in America and where it comes from.” Maybe your bosses wouldn't be happy with it, but that would be considered well within the boundaries. I mean, I looked at the BlueSky post and I said, “Okay, what's there that's remotely actionable?”

And actually, do you have a theory? I mean, I've been just shocked, in general. When they go after Jimmy Kimmel, the extent to which there's been this sort of falling in line behind, ‘We must not be at all realistic about who we're talking about.’ Do you have any theory on what's driving this? I have no sense at all. I did my best never to know anything about the management of The Times, but you would have been closer to that. Some sense of what is motivating this sort of rush to...Yeah.

Attiah: I mean obviously, there has been a profound shift, a very quick shift. And I will say it's hard to divorce, and we shouldn't, I think, divorce what happened to me, as shocking as it is, from the broader picture about journalists and journalistic freedom around the world and also in America in recent years. Our press freedom indexes have been on a slow ski slope downwards, right? We're in a climate where lawsuits against major media outlets, chilling speech, Gawker being basically destroyed by right wingers.

Krugman: By the way, that's Peter Thiel who destroyed Gawker. And so that's the broligarchy.

Attiah: Yeah. And then also, I brought up Ferguson and the blatant tear gassing on camera of Al Jazeera reporters; my former colleague, Wesley Lowery being arrested on camera. And that was under the Obama administration. So, I think for me, as someone who actually studied, press freedom—I worked for Freedom House for quite a long time, and I've done a lot of freedom of the press reports—I think in general, from a very macro perspective, I knew and have written about how press freedom in this country is more tenuous than we think.

And there's a long history in America of black journalists, in particular, especially during the civil rights movement, facing more attacks, if they can even get hired into news rooms. I think about that climate as the backdrop.

So fast forward to today. Of course, we've been in this climate with Trump with fake news attacks. “Enemy of the people.” I mean, I remember covering the Republican National Convention and having to get hostile environment training. I have colleagues who covered January 6th who are still dealing with those traumatic wounds, just spiritually. Right here in this country.

So I think for me, the atmospheric pressure was changing. Like I said, I grew up in Texas, which is kind of like tornado alley. And you know what it's like when something is about to happen. The air pressure drops, the sky goes a little green, the birds start fleeing. Right? And then the tornado comes. And for anyone who reads my work, particularly with Jamal Khashoggi—Jamal was a US resident who was spied on, surveilled on.

Krugman: Spied on, surveilled on here as well?

Attiah: Right. This is what we believe, you know? So, knowing that we're in a worse world for journalists. And then, of course, October 7th, Gaza, Palestinian journalists being killed at a remarkable record rate.

Krugman: Yeah.

Attiah: The silence or relative silence of American journalists here. I was just thinking, well, maybe my mom was right. My mom used to say, “Be careful being a journalist. Governments don't like journalists.”

I said, “Mom, it’s fine. I'm with the Washington Post. It's fine. I’m fine.” You know? And now here we are.

Krugman: It turns out not to be fine.

My wife grew up in Dallas and there are a couple of occasions, like when we we’ve been there on bike trips when she said, “This feels like dangerous storm weather, let's get undercover.” And she was always right.

Attiah: Exactly. I think maybe that's what has trained my bones, living in Dallas with the Kennedy assassination vibes and then the tornado human radar warning vibes, perhaps.

Krugman: So, I noticed you're on Substack and you had gotten on Substack a little bit before the firing. Were they okay with that, or was that...

Attiah: I was like, well, “Could I at least do podcasts or something? Can I express myself this way?” Substack has become a really interesting character in this saga of mainstream media, I suppose.

Krugman: Well, I opened a Substack account in 2021, really to put stuff out that was too wonky to go in the New York Times and they went ballistic. They said, basically, “No, you can't do that.” But, I was sort of preparing my exit strategy.

But I just thought it was interesting that you’ve been on it. And so you were already right there. And you put your story out that way.

Attiah: I put it on Substack and...yeah. I suppose I can now talk about Substack as my home now.

Krugman: So this is all so sudden. You probably still have to process. But I assume you're planning not to drop out of public life.

Attiah: If anything, if anything! I don't know if you’ve seen my torch pictures, Paul.

Krugman: Yeah.

Attiah: I’m not going anywhere. I'm just going to level up and, I don't know, what’s the Marvel Universe Omega level? Omega level mutants? No? I'm not dropping out of public life. I don’t know if you saw that I was teaching Race in Media at Columbia.

Krugman: That's right. I wanted to ask.

Attiah: I just believe so strongly that I didn't get the sort of international affairs education that explicitly brought up race. It was a very popular class. I had it for one semester. It was over enrolled. And after a few months, I was told my funding would not be renewed. And then a few months later, I was like, you know what? Why do I have to wait for permission to just be able to speak to people? Like, I could just gather people under a tree and just tell them what I know.

Krugman: You’re basically teaching your class under your own umbrella, right?

Rather than from a university.

Attiah: I called it Resistance Summer School. I decided to create a version of the Columbia course: Race, Media and International Affairs 101. I thought, like, 30 people would sign up. Turns out 2000, 3000 people showed interest. We just did our first summer pilot with an online hybrid with 500 students, and I'm about to teach it again in October. So I guess my new identity is “radical professor of the resistance.”

Krugman: I mean, universities started with professors and then they built the university around people with something to teach rather than the other way around, at least in the early days. So, no, that's great.

Attiah: You should come speak at my class!

Krugman: I may try to drop in at least, it's so interesting.

But so, how are you feeling about where the country is going? (Maybe that’s a lame question.) I mean, you must be getting a lot of expressions of support now.

Attiah: I am. I'm getting a lot of sad expressions of support. In fact, right before I got on with you, Paul, literally an hour before, Barack Obama tweeted in my defense.

Krugman: Oh, my.

Attiah: Which is just so mind boggling to me because the last political column I was allowed to write for the Post was a critique of Barack Obama. I said, Barack Obama is not your emotional support president. Because, there are a lot of people who are like, “Where's Obama? Is he going to come speak for us? Is going to come?”

And I just said, “You guys, you know, in terms of our immigration situation, I mean, Obama's record is beyond.” There's a lot to criticize there. The current head of ICE deported so many people Obama gave him a medal. So I was trying to make the point that not only is Obama not going to sort of save you, but here's an administration that helped pave the way. Were there masked ICE folks? Did the optics look like this? Absolutely not. But you're seeing the sort of infrastructure built for mass deportations and children testifying for themselves with entire families being locked up.

So I wrote that piece, and a lot of people weren't happy. The Obama folks reached out and they said, “We like your headline. Cool headline. But here are points that we disagree with.” But it was respectful. It was an email. They were like, “Hey, stay in touch.” I was pretty constructively harsh on the guy, obviously. And here he is now tweeting in my defense. And I was the last black columnist left at the Washington Post.

Krugman: I didn't know that.

Attiah: I was it. I was the last full time staff black columnist on the opinion section in Washington, DC, which for the majority of its history has been majority black. I'm still sitting with the implications, the symbolism, the whatever you want to call it of the entire opinion section. And again, opinion journalists being able to speak their minds about the truth, about race, about all of that. So, the first black president tweeting in support of the last black columnist at the Washington Post. I mean, for one thing, it’s an example of how things should be. We should be able to criticize power, and power should be able to respond to us in humane ways, regardless of the party. In an ideal world.

But we're in a situation now where criticizing the president or criticizing whoever they've appointed as the King will destroy your career, will threaten your airwave license. Like, “We will sue you into oblivion. We will destroy you.” I mean, this is not cancel culture. This is annihilation culture.

Krugman: Yeah, it's scary. I mean, I have to say, I’ve been writing columns for 25 years now and I get a lot of hate mail. Always have. But I've never actually felt personally afraid until now. A little bit, nothing direct. And I think there's a lot of people much more at risk than I am. But boy, yeah.

Attiah: I'll say, Paul, last night I was at a reception for the Washington Association of Black Journalists to see my colleagues, former colleagues, former Posties, and they asked me to give a speech or something. And I said, you know, “It was an honor of a lifetime to be able to do the work that I was doing at the Washington Post in Washington, which I believe is such a vibrant and rich city and area.” And The Washington Post has had a long and storied and interesting history with black journalists there.

But I just said, “Especially as this city is basically under what feels like military occupation, and again, me being the last black staff columnist left at a paper that's supposed to be a line of defense.” I just told everyone, you know, “Keep going as much as you can, but be safe. Take care of one another. Take care of yourselves. Take care of one another. Because this is in some ways the fight that a lot of us have not seen before.

But if you talk to older black journalists and older people in general, realizing these are the same fights we fought in the 60s, we are here again today doing the same thing. It can feel like starting from zero, you know?”

I hope the First Amendment holds, Paul. I hope it holds. That it remains the right for us because it guarantees all of our other rights. And it feels like it's on the brink right now.

That's how it feels in this city. My senses are tingling right now. That’s how I feel. But hey, like I said, I'm not disappearing from public life.

Krugman: I wish you the best. I feel like I should say “thoughts and prayers” like all the people that do nothing about shootings. But also, I really wish you luck. And I hope that your voice continues to be heard. And a lot of good people will try and get us through this moment.

Attiah: And like I said, you can sign up for my Substack. I want to keep going.

And paid subscriptions would be extremely helpful so I can continue doing my work; sharper, more elegant, more unrestrained. And then, yes, anyone who's interested in taking my course on race, media and international affairs, you can go to ResistanceSummerSchool.com and sign up. They’re all online and at a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the price that you would pay to go to Columbia. I'm trying to reach as many people as possible because they clearly don't want us to write about race and speak about race and teach about race, but I'm going to do it anyway. And we're going to move anyway.

So anyone who's interested in signing up or even contributing to scholarships, we give scholarships as well for people to attend, all ages. In my first class, the youngest was 17, the oldest was 79, and from all over the country, all over the world. We are teaching what they don't want us to know. And we're going to keep going.

Krugman: That's a good mission in life. Thank you so much for talking with me.

Attiah: Thanks.