In the latest issue:

Short Cuts

Jonathan Parry

Real Men Go to Tehran

Adam Shatz

What Trump doesn’t know about Iran

Patrick Cockburn

Kaiser Karl V

Thomas Penn

The Hostile Environment

Catherine Hall

Social Mobilities

Adam Swift

Short Cuts: So much for England

Tariq Ali

What the jihadis left behind

Nelly Lahoud

Ray Strachey

Francesca Wade

C.J. Sansom

Malcolm Gaskill

At the British Museum: ‘Troy: Myth and Reality’

James Davidson

Poem: ‘The Lion Tree’

Jamie McKendrick


Jenny Turner

Boys in Motion

Nicholas Penny

Jia Tolentino

Lauren Oyler

Diary: What really happened in Yancheng?

Long Ling


Terms and Conditions

These terms and conditions of use refer to the London Review of Books and the London Review Bookshop website ( — hereafter ‘LRB Website’). These terms and conditions apply to all users of the LRB Website ("you"), including individual subscribers to the print edition of the LRB who wish to take advantage of our free 'subscriber only' access to archived material ("individual users") and users who are authorised to access the LRB Website by subscribing institutions ("institutional users").

Each time you use the LRB Website you signify your acceptance of these terms and conditions. If you do not agree, or are not comfortable with any part of this document, your only remedy is not to use the LRB Website.

  1. By registering for access to the LRB Website and/or entering the LRB Website by whatever route of access, you agree to be bound by the terms and conditions currently prevailing.
  2. The London Review of Books ("LRB") reserves the right to change these terms and conditions at any time and you should check for any alterations regularly. Continued usage of the LRB Website subsequent to a change in the terms and conditions constitutes acceptance of the current terms and conditions.
  3. The terms and conditions of any subscription agreements which educational and other institutions have entered into with the LRB apply in addition to these terms and conditions.
  4. You undertake to indemnify the LRB fully for all losses damages and costs incurred as a result of your breaching these terms and conditions.
  5. The information you supply on registration to the LRB Website shall be accurate and complete. You will notify the LRB promptly of any changes of relevant details by emailing the registrar. You will not assist a non-registered person to gain access to the LRB Website by supplying them with your password. In the event that the LRB considers that you have breached the requirements governing registration, that you are in breach of these terms and conditions or that your or your institution's subscription to the LRB lapses, your registration to the LRB Website will be terminated.
  6. Each individual subscriber to the LRB (whether a person or organisation) is entitled to the registration of one person to use the 'subscriber only' content on the web site. This user is an 'individual user'.
  7. The London Review of Books operates a ‘no questions asked’ cancellation policy in accordance with UK legislation. Please contact us to cancel your subscription and receive a full refund for the cost of all unposted issues.
  8. Use of the 'subscriber only' content on the LRB Website is strictly for the personal use of each individual user who may read the content on the screen, download, store or print single copies for their own personal private non-commercial use only, and is not to be made available to or used by any other person for any purpose.
  9. Each institution which subscribes to the LRB is entitled to grant access to persons to register on and use the 'subscriber only' content on the web site under the terms and conditions of its subscription agreement with the LRB. These users are 'institutional users'.
  10. Each institutional user of the LRB may access and search the LRB database and view its entire contents, and may also reproduce insubstantial extracts from individual articles or other works in the database to which their institution's subscription provides access, including in academic assignments and theses, online and/or in print. All quotations must be credited to the author and the LRB. Institutional users are not permitted to reproduce any entire article or other work, or to make any commercial use of any LRB material (including sale, licensing or publication) without the LRB's prior written permission. Institutions may notify institutional users of any additional or different conditions of use which they have agreed with the LRB.
  11. Users may use any one computer to access the LRB web site 'subscriber only' content at any time, so long as that connection does not allow any other computer, networked or otherwise connected, to access 'subscriber only' content.
  12. The LRB Website and its contents are protected by copyright and other intellectual property rights. You acknowledge that all intellectual property rights including copyright in the LRB Website and its contents belong to or have been licensed to the LRB or are otherwise used by the LRB as permitted by applicable law.
  13. All intellectual property rights in articles, reviews and essays originally published in the print edition of the LRB and subsequently included on the LRB Website belong to or have been licensed to the LRB. This material is made available to you for use as set out in paragraph 8 (if you are an individual user) or paragraph 10 (if you are an institutional user) only. Save for such permitted use, you may not download, store, disseminate, republish, post, reproduce, translate or adapt such material in whole or in part in any form without the prior written permission of the LRB. To obtain such permission and the terms and conditions applying, contact the Rights and Permissions department.
  14. All intellectual property rights in images on the LRB Website are owned by the LRB except where another copyright holder is specifically attributed or credited. Save for such material taken for permitted use set out above, you may not download, store, disseminate, republish, post, reproduce, translate or adapt LRB’s images in whole or in part in any form without the prior written permission of the LRB. To obtain such permission and the terms and conditions applying, contact the Rights and Permissions department. Where another copyright holder is specifically attributed or credited you may not download, store, disseminate, republish, reproduce or translate such images in whole or in part in any form without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. The LRB will not undertake to supply contact details of any attributed or credited copyright holder.
  15. The LRB Website is provided on an 'as is' basis and the LRB gives no warranty that the LRB Website will be accessible by any particular browser, operating system or device.
  16. The LRB makes no express or implied representation and gives no warranty of any kind in relation to any content available on the LRB Website including as to the accuracy or reliability of any information either in its articles, essays and reviews or in the letters printed in its letter page or material supplied by third parties. The LRB excludes to the fullest extent permitted by law all liability of any kind (including liability for any losses, damages or costs) arising from the publication of any materials on the LRB Website or incurred as a consequence of using or relying on such materials.
  17. The LRB excludes to the fullest extent permitted by law all liability of any kind (including liability for any losses, damages or costs) for any legal or other consequences (including infringement of third party rights) of any links made to the LRB Website.
  18. The LRB is not responsible for the content of any material you encounter after leaving the LRB Website site via a link in it or otherwise. The LRB gives no warranty as to the accuracy or reliability of any such material and to the fullest extent permitted by law excludes all liability that may arise in respect of or as a consequence of using or relying on such material.
  19. This site may be used only for lawful purposes and in a manner which does not infringe the rights of, or restrict the use and enjoyment of the site by, any third party. In the event of a chat room, message board, forum and/or news group being set up on the LRB Website, the LRB will not undertake to monitor any material supplied and will give no warranty as to its accuracy, reliability, originality or decency. By posting any material you agree that you are solely responsible for ensuring that it is accurate and not obscene, defamatory, plagiarised or in breach of copyright, confidentiality or any other right of any person, and you undertake to indemnify the LRB against all claims, losses, damages and costs incurred in consequence of your posting of such material. The LRB will reserve the right to remove any such material posted at any time and without notice or explanation. The LRB will reserve the right to disclose the provenance of such material, republish it in any form it deems fit or edit or censor it. The LRB will reserve the right to terminate the registration of any person it considers to abuse access to any chat room, message board, forum or news group provided by the LRB.
  20. Any e-mail services supplied via the LRB Website are subject to these terms and conditions.
  21. You will not knowingly transmit any virus, malware, trojan or other harmful matter to the LRB Website. The LRB gives no warranty that the LRB Website is free from contaminating matter, viruses or other malicious software and to the fullest extent permitted by law disclaims all liability of any kind including liability for any damages, losses or costs resulting from damage to your computer or other property arising from access to the LRB Website, use of it or downloading material from it.
  22. The LRB does not warrant that the use of the LRB Website will be uninterrupted, and disclaims all liability to the fullest extent permitted by law for any damages, losses or costs incurred as a result of access to the LRB Website being interrupted, modified or discontinued.
  23. The LRB Website contains advertisements and promotional links to websites and other resources operated by third parties. While we would never knowingly link to a site which we believed to be trading in bad faith, the LRB makes no express or implied representations or warranties of any kind in respect of any third party websites or resources or their contents, and we take no responsibility for the content, privacy practices, goods or services offered by these websites and resources. The LRB excludes to the fullest extent permitted by law all liability for any damages or losses arising from access to such websites and resources. Any transaction effected with such a third party contacted via the LRB Website are subject to the terms and conditions imposed by the third party involved and the LRB accepts no responsibility or liability resulting from such transactions.
  24. The LRB disclaims liability to the fullest extent permitted by law for any damages, losses or costs incurred for unauthorised access or alterations of transmissions or data by third parties as consequence of visit to the LRB Website.
  25. While 'subscriber only' content on the LRB Website is currently provided free to subscribers to the print edition of the LRB, the LRB reserves the right to impose a charge for access to some or all areas of the LRB Website without notice.
  26. These terms and conditions are governed by and will be interpreted in accordance with English law and any disputes relating to these terms and conditions will be subject to the non-exclusive jurisdiction of the courts of England and Wales.
  27. The various provisions of these terms and conditions are severable and if any provision is held to be invalid or unenforceable by any court of competent jurisdiction then such invalidity or unenforceability shall not affect the remaining provisions.
  28. If these terms and conditions are not accepted in full, use of the LRB Website must be terminated immediately.

‘Have​ I told you about my old friend who’s married to the Republican governor of Missouri?’ Too often, the answer was yes, I had – sometimes more than once. My Sheena story was my best story, the anecdote that rarely failed, which was fortunate, because I couldn’t stop telling it, usually in the same way, even with the same pauses and hand gestures. At the end, I would play on my phone one of Eric’s earliest campaign ads, in which he shoots a machine gun into a field as he promises to take ‘dead aim at politics as usual’. ‘If you’re ready for a conservative outsider,’ he says, ‘I’m ready to fire away.’

I would tell how Sheena and I came to England together, on a plane with all the other Americans who’d won a Marshall Scholarship. Some of them were politically ambitious: ‘No photos!’ they’d say at parties. Sheena and I weren’t like that, but then I don’t remember going to many parties. Instead, we drove around Scotland, and went to a lot of plays – my first piece in the LRB was about seeing Happy Days with her at the National. ‘In as much as I thought I could know someone, I thought I knew her,’ I’d say, though when I Google her now, I still learn things about her. A few months before we met, she told her local paper that although one of her professors at Stanford had been Clinton’s defence secretary, William Perry, her ‘dream job’ was to be national security adviser. She knew Korean and was studying Mandarin: as a student she had published articles about North Korean counterfeiters and smuggling networks. So on paper she fitted in with all the other prizewinners; what made her exceptional, I thought at the time, was her kindness. When she was growing up, her parents in Washington State – Presbyterian doctors – had adopted a girl from South Korea. Sheena had learned Korean for her.

After Oxford, Sheena got a PhD in political science at Harvard, with a focus on the ‘politics of democracy and dictatorship’. She met Eric Greitens when he spoke on a panel about political leadership, and it seemed that no sooner had they started dating than they were engaged. He was a Jewish Navy Seal Rhodes Scholar. How many of those are there in the world? He wrote his DPhil on how to protect children more effectively in war zones; he’d wanted to serve because he loved his country enough to risk dying for it:

I walked into the rotunda at Rhodes House – a fancy mansion on the Oxford campus – and looked up at the names etched into the marble. Those were the names of scholars who left in World War One and World War Two to fight and die overseas. I stood there thinking that if they hadn’t made that choice I wouldn’t be here. I believed that everything in my life, everyone who invested in me along the way, had prepared me to serve and make a difference.

After two tours in Afghanistan and Iraq, he started a charity called the Mission Continues, which helped veterans adjust to civilian life. When he went on The Daily Show to talk about his book Resilience: Hard-Won Wisdom for Leading a Better Life, he told Jon Stewart that he’d been inspired by his ‘buddy’, a war hero, who after returning home had become an unemployed alcoholic still afraid of sniper fire. ‘I started writing him a letter about resilience, about how you deal with hardship and become better, about how you deal with pain and become wiser, how you move through fear and build courage.’ It became a bestseller, and also helped Eric get support for the Mission Continues, which has received donations from Bank of America, Disney, Lockheed Martin, Goldman Sachs, Starbucks, as well as thousands of people. (This becomes important later.)

I won’t go on about how wonderful he seemed. Not because there’s a lack of material. Here’s Eric talking to another talk-show host, Charlie Rose: ‘Oxford had these long breaks so I could leave Oxford and I could go to work with Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity. I could go to Cambodia and work with kids who lost limbs to landmines. I could go to Albania … ’ Look him up in the New York Times archive and there’s someone complaining that he’s such a ‘paragon of virtue’ that he scuttles Joe Klein’s book Charlie Mike: A True Story of Heroes Who Brought Their Mission Home – the ‘heroes’ are Eric and a few others, but mostly Eric. It’s not that the reviewer doubted Eric’s wonderfulness, just that he seemed a little dull:

Consider Eric Greitens, a former Rhodes scholar who ‘spent almost all of his school breaks working in refugee camps’. Later, while in the Navy Seals, he decided to redecorate the office cubicle he inherited, replacing ‘pictures of near-naked women on Harleys’ with quotations from Churchill, Patton and Thucydides.

That’s the way I usually told the first half of the story. I didn’t mention that some friends had said that Eric had made them feel uncomfortable, or that I’d been disappointed when Sheena agreed to limit her job search to Missouri, because that’s where Eric wanted to live. Blaine Greteman, now an English professor at the University of Iowa, was in the Rhodes class after Eric; he wrote on Twitter that even then Eric was ‘talking about how he would be governor or president’. Greteman and another classmate had ‘found him so creepy we made him a villain in a screenplay we wrote … It was a pretty bad screenplay. But also maybe we were just ahead of our time?’

I didn’t go to the wedding: because of what I had heard about him, or because I didn’t want to fly out to the West Coast? A bit of both. I sent Sheena a couple of cake tins from her list.

And for a while, that was it. I got their Christmas cards; I cooed over pictures of Sheena’s baby on Facebook. When Sheena asked me to suggest potential reviewers for Eric’s memoir, The Heart and the Fist: The Education of a Humanitarian, the Making of a Navy Seal, I sent names and addresses. In the first four years after their wedding, if his name came up, I’d say: ‘At least he’s a Democrat.’ We all knew he would eventually run for office: why else had they moved to his home state? I had almost stopped thinking about him when he published an article on in the summer of 2015 with the headline ‘Former Navy Seal: Why I am no longer a Democrat’, a prelude to his running for governor.

I am a conservative Republican, but I didn’t start out that way. I was raised as a Democrat. I was taught that Harry Truman was the greatest president ever because he was strong, stood up to the communists, and most important, he was from Missouri. I was taught to stand up for the little guy, and that bigger government was the best way to do that … There was one rather large problem. As I got older, I no longer believed in their ideas. Even worse, I had concluded that liberals aren’t just wrong. All too often they are world-class hypocrites. They talk a great game about helping the most vulnerable, with ideas that feel good and fashionable. The problem is their ideas don’t work, and often hurt the exact people they claim to help.

It might also have been the case that the Democrats were less keen on running Eric for higher office, at least right away. Obama spent seven years in the Illinois state senate before going to the US Senate – that’s how it usually works. The Democratic Party was drowning in ambitious Rhodes Scholars who wanted to work for Obama, or to be him; less so the Republicans. One of Eric’s advisers would later testify that Eric wasn’t interested in running for anything less than governor; he said ‘he wasn’t somebody that ever climbed ladders. Indicating that he didn’t have to.’ The incumbent, Jay Nixon, a Democrat, was term-limited, and it was more than time for the seat to change parties: Missouri is very white, and rural, and the state had voted against Obama in both the 2008 and 2012 elections, though it hadn’t been particularly keen on Mitt Romney either. (Google ‘undecided voters Missouri 2012’, and up comes the line: ‘Who are you going to vote for, the Muslim or the Mormon?’) To secure the Republican nomination, Eric first had to see off all the Missouri state representatives – ‘crooked career politicians’, he called them – who had been waiting, some of them for their entire careers, for Jay Nixon to stand down. They tried to persuade the party faithful that Eric wasn’t nearly as conservative as he pretended. Then Eric released an ad:

I knew that career politicians would lie about me. But Obama supporter? That’s not just false it’s offensive. So let me be clear, and I’ll say this slowly, so even the career politicians can understand. Barack Obama is the worst president of my lifetime, maybe ever. I’m Eric Greitens, I’m pro-life, pro-gun, conservative to the core.

He didn’t have to explain why he thought Obama was the worst president maybe ever. To his base, it was self-evident. This was all happening while Trump was running for president, and sometimes it seemed as though the two men shared the same campaign. Rather than drain the swamp, Eric swore to ‘blow up’ Jefferson City, the state capital, while also promising – presumably this would happen first – to throw out all the lobbyists, ‘even if in sight of the statue of Thomas Jefferson I have to throw you down the steps of the Capitol myself’.

Around this time, I had been reading books about the Clintons for a piece I never wrote; Hillary had been told that if she didn’t change her last name from Rodham, her husband would never be re-elected governor of Arkansas. I wrote to Sheena that I had been thinking about ‘how difficult/gruelling/bonkers a gubernatorial race can be. I can’t tell you how much I wish you would just fly to London for a long weekend of anonymity, museuming & hot chocolate.’ Most of my notes were like that: telling her that I missed her, sympathising with how busy she must be, but not mentioning Eric, or saying that I hoped he would win. They never asked me for money, which I thought was odd at the time. Every American I’ve known, however slightly, who’s run for office, even in places I’ve never visited, has asked me for money. That year, the American husband of a South African Rhodes Scholar was running for the Executive Council of New Hampshire; I hadn’t seen them since we left Oxford, but they hit me up for $50. That’s just the way it works. But Eric was raising millions of dollars without, it seemed, having to stoop to ask. One of the political action committees that spent more than $2 million to support him was Seals for Truth; Eric claimed that this was being run by his fellow Navy Seals, although its lone donor was an entity called the American Policy Coalition Inc. – a non-profit that exists in name only, and was incorporated by a lawyer who has also helped the Koch brothers, Republican billionaires, funnel money to their favourite candidates. Meanwhile, actual Navy Seals put a video on YouTube criticising Eric for exaggerating his service: he’d completed Seal training, but had never actually served in a Seal platoon. Also on YouTube, a waitress uploaded a short video: she wanted people to know that Eric had once grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around because he was angry that his food had taken too long to come. He had yelled at her and wouldn’t stop touching her after she asked him to stop. ‘I’m not a very political person,’ she said, but she wanted people to know what he was like. I found the video after I typed ‘Eric Greitens’ into the YouTube search box – something I did a lot – but I didn’t see it mentioned elsewhere.

After Eric won the Republican nomination, his campaign ads were more muted. To beat the Democratic nominee, the popular state attorney general Chris Koster, Eric would have to appeal to the college-educated suburban women that Ivanka was trying to win for her father. A new ad showed him walking down a leafy street with Sheena, both pushing prams: ‘If you want more government, higher taxes, billions in Obamacare expansion, and corrupt career politicians as usual,’ Eric says, ‘then vote for Chris Koster. That’s what he’s been doing 22 years.’ Sheena says nothing, but she shakes her head ‘no’ when Eric mentions Obamacare. She’s not wearing a cross in this video, though she does in others. Did this placate anyone who worried about electing a Jewish governor? The state had never had one before.

The only charge that seemed to stick was that Eric was already looking beyond the state, with the domain already registered. A St Louis Magazine reporter was sent to interview ‘his brilliant young wife’ who ‘looks a bit like Kate Middleton’. She asked Sheena ‘when it first occurred to her that she could wind up as the nation’s first lady’; Sheena said she’d never thought about it before – ‘“Not until this very moment,” she says, blinking rapidly.’ The reporter didn’t believe her. Sheena joined Eric’s Mission for Missouri bus tour, usually holding their new baby; Koster, single and childless, took to posing with one of his nieces. When Eric refused to release his tax returns, his campaign adviser said that it was because Eric had to make the decision ‘with Sheena, as a family’, whereas ‘Chris can make it for himself.’

On election night, while I waited for the returns to come in, I kept tweeting at the writer Curtis Sittenfeld – other than the Greitenses, she was the only person I could think of who lived in Missouri. What was she seeing on the ground? In Sittenfeld’s novel American Wife, the character modelled on Laura Bush decides she can’t be blamed for what her husband did in office: ‘All I did is marry him. You are the ones who gave him power.’ But she also knows that he wouldn’t have won without her.

In his inaugural address, Eric spoke about government being ‘the wrong place to look if you’re seeking compassion. Caring comes from individual people.’ It was time for Missourians to start doing more for themselves. The ‘most important anti-crime programme ever known is a dad playing ball with his son’. Of course his vision for the state would mean great effort, even sacrifice, but weren’t they up to the challenge? The West was won in Missouri. The first mile of the Interstate was laid in Missouri. In Missouri they built steamships ‘that plied’ the Mississippi. It was a Missourian who first flew solo across the Atlantic, and it was Missourians ‘who built the capsule in which an American first orbited the Earth’. He asked the people of Missouri to pray for him and his family. Two weeks later, he flew with Sheena to Washington to see Trump sworn in.

I cancelled my Google news alerts for ‘Eric Greitens’ because suddenly there was too much news: Eric had changed the gun policy at the statehouse – any visitor or employee could now bring in a concealed firearm. He went to Washington to meet with Mike Pence, to Israel to meet with Netanyahu. He overturned a by-law forbidding landlords and employers to discriminate against women who used birth control. He lowered the minimum wage in St Louis. There was only a single abortion clinic in the state, and Eric tried to regulate it out of existence. He slashed funding for the state’s public universities, including the one at which Sheena taught. He signed a bill that made it almost impossible for anyone to sue successfully for racial discrimination. The NAACP warned black people to ‘exercise extreme caution’ before entering Missouri, the first time they’d ever issued a travel warning for a specific state. Eric was now often referred to as Mike Pence’s favourite governor, very likely his future running mate, or his pick for vice-president if Trump didn’t complete his term.

I sat in London obsessing about what was happening back home, feeling furious and powerless. The day after Comey was fired, I went to Grosvenor Square to join the protest, but there was no one there. I read the news on my phone, then went to Selfridges. On the fundraising website, Missouri teachers were begging for school supplies. I bought a set of books for one class and gave the website Sheena’s office address so that she would be sent the thank you notes. I didn’t criticise her more directly: a friend’s attempt to school her on reproductive freedom hadn’t gone well. Then, on 17 August last year, I linked to an article on Facebook from the Amnesty International website: a man called Marcellus Williams was scheduled to be executed in Missouri five days later.

Williams had been convicted of the murder of a St Louis Post-Dispatch reporter. He’d always maintained his innocence, and no physical evidence connected him to the crime. (An ex-girlfriend testified that he had confessed to her, and received a cash reward.) Civil rights activists were interested in the case because Williams was black, but had faced an almost all-white jury. There was a Twitter campaign to free him, and the nun from Dead Man Walking had made an appeal. Eric had already presided over one man’s execution, and I hadn’t said anything, but this time I tagged Sheena so that the post would appear on her Facebook page too – something I could do, because we were friends. I wrote: ‘I desperately hope that Eric Greitens won’t allow this man to be executed on Tuesday.’ Friends posted beneath or emailed her. She was at the Missouri State Fair that day, and the post stayed up for several hours before she saw it and deleted it from her page. She was angry that I’d put a ‘political post’ on her wall for everyone to see; I told her I wouldn’t do it again. Three hours before Williams was scheduled to be executed, Eric granted a stay. I sent Sheena a row of emoji kisses, as though she’d done me some small favour.

In January, Eric delivered the annual ‘state of the state’ address in Jefferson City. He promised to continue cutting taxes and to repeal regulations. He thanked his kindergarten teacher for being in the room, and thanked Sheena for her great work helping Missouri children in foster care. At Christmas, she had decorated the governor’s mansion with gold stars, each one representing a child in the system. I didn’t watch the speech at the time, and when I watch it now I’m not sure whether it’s only because I know what’s going to happen later that night – Eric knew the story was about to break – that I think he appears less commanding than usual.

A woman – her name protected – had been Eric’s hairdresser. She said that during the campaign, when Sheena was out of town, she’d gone to the basement of his house, where he kept his exercise equipment: Eric had offered to teach her ‘how to do a proper pull up’. Instead, he had tied her up, blindfolded her, pulled off her clothes and taken her photograph with his phone. She had been sobbing when he put his penis in her mouth. Eric told her that if she told anyone, he’d send the photograph of her ‘everywhere’. He has said that there was ‘no blackmail, there was no violence, there was no threat of violence’. He claims they had a consensual sexual affair, which he calls a ‘personal mistake’. Sheena released a statement: ‘We have a loving marriage and an awesome family; anything beyond that is between us and God. I want the media and those who wish to peddle gossip to stay away from me and my children.’ She and Eric spent a few days away from the cameras, in the office of Eric’s political action committee, reassuring their donors and state legislators that there wouldn’t be any further scandals, and that Sheena was sticking by her husband. She said she’d already known that Eric had had an affair, and had long since forgiven him.

Eric was indicted for ‘criminal invasion of privacy’. The Missouri Republican Party issued a statement accusing the St Louis prosecutor who brought the charges, a black woman, of being a puppet of George Soros: the governor was the victim of a liberal globalist conspiracy. ‘Missourians should see this for what it is: a political hit job.’ Two months later, Eric was indicted on another felony charge: he’s accused of having stolen lists from the Mission Continues containing the names and addresses of everyone who had donated more than $1000 to the charity, to use for his own campaign fundraising purposes. It’s not nearly as sensational as the rape allegation – Missourians, inevitably, are calling that ‘Fifty Shades of Greitens’ – but there’s an overwhelming paper trail, and it’s probably the easier case for prosecutors to make. A special session of the state legislature will consider whether to proceed with an impeachment trial.

Eric says that he’s been the victim of a ‘political witch hunt’, just like the president. ‘This is exactly like what’s happening with the witch hunts in Washington, DC.’ A jury is being selected for his first trial. He refuses to resign: in the age of Trump, why should he?

Send Letters To:

The Editor
London Review of Books,
28 Little Russell Street
London, WC1A 2HN

Please include name, address, and a telephone number.

Read anywhere with the London Review of Books app, available now from the App Store for Apple devices, Google Play for Android devices and Amazon for your Kindle Fire.

Sign up to our newsletter

For highlights from the latest issue, our archive and the blog, as well as news, events and exclusive promotions.