The Free Press

The ceasefire between the United States and Iran has now lasted weeks longer than the period of major hostilities. And as is often the case with ceasefires in the Middle East, it involves a good deal of shooting. Every other day or so now sees an exchange of fire in or around the Strait of Hormuz. But nonetheless, every other day or so also sees recurring suggestions that, really, this time a deal between Washington and Tehran is all but at hand. And yet, like the eponymous character in Samuel Beckett’s absurdist play Waiting for Godot, the deal never arrives.

It’s easy to get lost following the complexities and twists of this drama, but the basic reason the negotiations and the leaks about the supposed progress of negotiations toward a happy resolution keep dragging on is simple: The two sides’ current demands are irreconcilable.

Iran, having seized control of the Strait of Hormuz at the beginning of the conflict, doesn’t want to give it back. The United States wants a return to the status quo in the key waterway. Iran also wishes to rebuild a nuclear program from its current rubble-ized conditions, though it appears willing to accept some form of time-limited restrictions in return for large amounts of money. This structure is, of course, the same as that of President Barack Obama’s nuclear diplomacy, and such a deal would be politically painful for President Donald Trump to sell to Senate Republicans. (It would also be subject to review by Congress.) The president also wants Iran’s highly enriched uranium brought out of the country or rendered safe under international supervision. The Iranians appear to be in no hurry to agree to this.

When you think about Ferrari, chances are you think about a sleek Italian car that looks kind of like a spaceship and costs more money than the average single-family house. Maybe you think about TV shows like Miami Vice or movies like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Chances are you don’t imagine a four-door blob of a car that looks like a Prius by Playskool, weighs as much as an F-150 pickup truck, and makes zero engine noise. But that’s exactly what Ferrari debuted last week. It’s called the Luce, it’s an electric vehicle, it costs $640,000, and it looks to be the biggest product introduction flop since Crystal Pepsi.

The Luce doesn’t resemble any other Ferrari in the company’s 79-year history. It looks pretty much like every other electric four-door sedan on the market, only worse. The button-free interior, with its bright colors and blank screens, looks uncomfortably like the evil digital tablet in the upcoming Toy Story film. The back of the car looks like it’s giving birth to another, smaller car.

The day that Ferrari’s USA Instagram account introduced the Luce, Instagram followers left more than 1,500 comments on the post. I read all of them, so you don’t have to. There was not a single positive response. Nearly 60 of the comments were some variant of the idea that the new car is a betrayal of the company’s founder: “Enzo Ferrari is rolling over in his grave.” The other reactions ran the gamut from comedy (“Can you darken the pictures more so I can’t see the car?”) to outright insult (“Piece of shit”) to fear (“As a shareholder, this concerns me”). And that shareholder was right to be concerned: The day after the reveal, Ferrari’s stock price slumped 8 percent in Milan and 5 percent in New York.

You will search in vain for anyone who is particularly excited about the Ferrari Luce. I took my best shot, which was calling a high-net-worth Ferrari collector who has bought more than $10 million worth of cars from the brand. “It’s the worst,” he said. “I really hope I don’t have to buy one. Please don’t use my name.”

There are signs that Americans are finally warming up to the country’s semiquincentennial, and there’s a tantalizing array of events nationwide over the next month. (We can’t be the only folks excited about a tall ships parade!) Alongside the outdoor fun, though, there’s a glut of articles and books considering the ideals of the American revolution and the men behind them. Given how much is out there on the great men who founded America (including Jonathan Horn’s Free Press newsletter, This Week in American History), we thought we’d try something a little different for our final countdown to the country’s big birthday. This month, we’re taking a break from the Founders to celebrate some of the Americans the revolution enabled over the last 250 years.

The idea is not to downplay the brilliance of the names that you usually see on a list of Great Americans. It is to acknowledge a few names that are less familiar, but nonetheless helped make this country what it is. Did the inventor of air conditioning, Willis Carrier, not have as profound an effect on the country as anyone who, like Mr. Smith, went to Washington? So, while we will continue to revere Lincoln and Washington, it’s time for a little love to Sandy Koufax, Louis Armstrong, and John Steinbeck.

We’re not trying to come up with a definitive list of the greatest Americans who ever lived. We’re offering something more personal: a writer we love on an American they love. Every weekday between now and July 4.

To kick things off, we’re allowing ourselves one essay on one of the great men who founded this country: the historian Jane Kamensky, president and CEO of Monticello, on Thomas Jefferson’s misgivings about over-reverence for the Founding generation. Read Kamensky’s piece below, and then look out for our series on Great Americans starting in The Front Page tomorrow. —The Editors

By 1826, Thomas Jefferson knew his sun was setting. He turned 83 in April, rheumatic, dyspeptic, and fever-racked. The letters he wrote that year—169 of which survive—are haunted by debt and by death. “I must meet what futurity has in reserve for me,” Jefferson told his grandson Francis Eppes in March.

A week later, he wrote his will. Around the same time, he designed his tombstone. It was to be a simple obelisk six feet tall—less than his own human height—and feature an epitaph listing three accomplishments curated from four decades in public service “& not a word more.” Posterity would see him claim credit for the American Declaration of Independence, that avatar of self-government; for Virginia’s Statute for Religious Freedom, an originary statement of freedom of conscience; and for the University of Virginia, a beacon of citizen education. Author, Jefferson called himself in the inscription, and Father. Not founder, much less Founder. Across the vast course of his correspondence, Jefferson used that f-word just a handful of times, most often to talk about the working of iron.

As he mused on his own ending in 1826, Jefferson was also keenly aware that the Declaration of Independence, whose drafting he had come to count as his greatest contribution to the nation and indeed to the world, was approaching the ripe age of 50. For some time, he had kept track of the dwindling number of its living signers: In 1812, he thought there were seven, as he tallied for John Adams. A year later, he counted four, or possibly six. “I am the only one South of the Potomac,” Jefferson supposed. In his last public letter, penned on June 24, 1826, Jefferson described the pride he felt as “one of the surviving signers of an instrument, pregnant with our own, and the fate of the world.” There were then only three. On July 5, the day after Jefferson and John Adams both perished, only Charles Carroll of Maryland endured.

It had long been the ideals, not the author, which Jefferson wanted Americans to revere. “I have declined letting my own birthday be known, & have engaged my family not to communicate it,” he had written in 1803, toward the end of his first term as president. He felt “disapproving” of any attempt to transfer “the honours & veneration for the great birthday of our republic, to any individual, or of dividing them with individuals.”

We are living through an age of political violence. Presidential assassination attempts. Lethal assaults on places of worship. An arson attack on a governor’s mansion. The murder of a conservative activist. And on and on. The motives in these cases matter: Some are explained by hate-filled fringe ideologies, some by religious extremism, others by poisonous hyper-partisanship. But more often than not, these cases share a common feature: a young man driven to threaten or carry out violent acts. How does that radicalization happen? And who is most susceptible to it? Those are the questions at the heart of Maya Sulkin’s important story today. It’s about a boy who at only 14 was found to be plotting a violent terror attack. Isolated, autistic, and targeted by jihadist extremists online, the teen fits an increasingly recognizable mold of who gets indoctrinated online—and what happens after. Read the full investigation, and watch the accompanying video. — The Editors

Angela and Marcus Reed live in a small Ohio town, in a neighborhood strung together by seemingly endless cul-de-sacs and perfectly manicured lawns. Staked next to the pathway to their brick colonial, there’s a “Believe” sign and a weather vane. It’s the kind of place where the biggest crimes are speeding tickets and double-parked cars.

Angela, a 44-year-old marketing executive, and Marcus, a 47-year-old stay-at-home dad, are high school sweethearts who have three boys and go to church every Sunday. They give to charities. They have family game nights. When their youngest son has nightmares, his 21-year-old brother sleeps beside him so he feels safe.

And yet, sitting at their dining room table, where the Reeds had set out flowers alongside mushroom pasta and tiramisu from a local Italian restaurant, Angela told me that, in December of 2023, “terrorists broke into our home,” through their computer screen, in the middle of the night. They wanted “to destroy our family, destroy our son, and destroy our community,” she said.

Their target was her middle child, Caleb, then 14.

Growing up, Caleb was like most kids in the neighborhood, though on the quiet side. He didn’t like cartoons, preferring documentaries, even when he was a toddler. He had obsessive-compulsive tendencies—he would pour out all the crackers from the box to inspect them, only eating the ones without cracks. Like any good American boy, he went through a football phase, memorizing every player and statistic. He had a few friends at school who invited him over to play, and he was always well-liked by his teammates.

When the pandemic hit in 2020, Caleb was 10 years old. His after-school activities came to a halt. His football practices ended. He no longer saw his friends. He felt like everything had been taken away from him overnight.

His parents started noticing changes in his behavior. Certain sounds, such as a person clearing their throat, would cause him to bang his head against a wall. Caleb’s OCD became more severe. He spent more time alone in his room, skipping family dinners.

At one point, Angela asked Caleb the last time he ate, and he told her it had been three days. Angela and Marcus sought out doctors to see if Caleb might have autism, but they were told his behavior could be stemming from all sorts of issues, like anxiety, puberty, or depression. Then, in late 2023, just before Caleb turned 14 years old, he announced he was converting to Islam. He was comforted by the religion’s strict rules, he told his parents, adding that it “just made more sense” to him, Angela recalled.

Angela and Marcus, devout Christians, were shocked. They had baptized Caleb in their own backyard. But when we spoke, Angela was surprisingly accepting of her son’s religious epiphany.

How does a teenager from a nice family in Ohio end up charged with a third-degree felony for making terrorist threats?

That’s the question that Angela and Marcus Reed* found themselves asking after their house was raided by the FBI. Their son Caleb had been plotting attacks on religious sites and was radicalized by jihadists through the messaging app Discord after converting to Islam.

As Caleb’s mom put it: “Terrorists broke into our home,” through their computer screen, in the middle of the night. They wanted “to destroy our family, destroy our son, and destroy our community,” she said.

It’s Monday, June 1. This is The Front Page, your daily window into the world of The Free Press—and our take on the world at large. Today: Peter Savodnik meets the man behind “Latinos por Pratt.” Coleman Hughes and Aman Verjee on whether AI is the next great bubble. A former Scripps finalist on why the spelling bee may be America’s purest meritocracy. And much more.

But first: Graham Platner’s latest scandal(s).

How many scandals can one Senate campaign handle? Graham Platner, the progressive Democratic Senate candidate in Maine, may soon find out.

Platner had already faced his fair share of controversy. This is the candidate with the Nazi tattoo on his chest (now covered), who may not be quite as blue-collar as he makes out, who used assorted slurs and masturbation jokes in trollish posts on Reddit, who smeared cops as “trash,” who. . . you get the picture.

This weekend that list got a little longer. The Wall Street Journal reported Saturday that last year Platner’s wife, Amy Gertner, found sexually explicit texts between Platner and several other women. The Journal also found that Platner has an active account on Kik, a private messaging app. In his profile picture he is shirtless with a towel around his waist.

“No marriage is perfect, and I don’t want a perfect marriage. I want my marriage,” said Gertner in a selfie-style video Sunday.

Today, we’re publishing two perspectives on Platner and his candidacy.

The first is about another Platner controversy that got a bit less attention than the salacious sexting story. In comments made on a 2024 podcast that resurfaced recently, Graham Platner suggested that Chris Kyle, the legendary “American Sniper” made famous by the 2014 movie of that name, targeted innocent Iraqi civilians to boost his kill numbers.

Kyle died in 2013 so cannot defend himself from these claims. But his friend and former platoon commander, Leif Babin, can—and does in The Free Press today.

“Those accusations are absolutely false,” writes Leif. Read his full response to the “slanderous accusations” of an “aspiring politician” and the toll they have taken on Kyle’s wife and children.

Our second Platner story comes from River Page, and it is an answer to a simple but central question: Why does none of this seem to be hurting Platner? River’s theory gets to the heart not just of this crucial Senate race, but the dynamics driving so much of our politics.

—Oliver Wiseman

• A D.C. district judge ordered Trump’s name removed from the Kennedy Center on Friday, ruling that only Congress—not the center’s board—has the authority to rename the venue. The decision also blocked the planned two-year closure for renovations. Trump responded Saturday by calling the judge “an anti Trump Hater” and warning the center will “soon be closed, probably never to open again.”

• After several musicians dropped out of “The Great American State Fair”—a celebration of America’s 250th anniversary on the National Mall—over the event’s ties to Trump, the president announced Saturday he would headline it himself. Trump dismissed the departing acts as “Third Rate ‘Artists.’ ” Event organizers confirmed Trump will kick off the festivities on June 24.

• Federal ICE agents agreed to withdraw from the parking lot outside a Newark immigration detention center Friday, ceding control to state troopers after days of clashes with protesters. The ACLU says hundreds of detainees inside had been staging a hunger strike over spoiled food and poor medical care—a claim that the Department of Homeland Security denies.

• Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu ordered troops deeper into Lebanon on Sunday, expanding the ground offensive against Hezbollah despite a ceasefire that has been in place since mid-April. Israeli forces seized Beaufort Castle, a 12th-century fortress in the deepest incursion into the country in 26 years, just days before Lebanon and Israel are set to hold direct talks in Washington.

• A potential U.S.-Iran peace deal remained unsigned Sunday after Trump asked for significant edits to a draft agreement, sources with knowledge of the matter told Axios. The president wants stronger language around Iran’s nuclear stockpile and the Strait of Hormuz, but a response from Tehran could take days—“They’re literally in caves and they’re not using email,” a senior administration official said.

• Paris Saint-Germain’s Champions League victory over Arsenal on Saturday sparked widespread rioting across France, with 780 people arrested as fans set off fireworks, torched bikes, and clashed with police. Authorities had deployed thousands of officers after similar celebrations turned deadly when PSG won last year.

• A meteor exploded off the coast of Massachusetts on Saturday afternoon, rattling windows and shaking homes across the region with a boom heard as far as Rhode Island. “The energy released at breakup is estimated to be equivalent to about 300 tons of TNT,” NASA said.

• The San Antonio Spurs are headed to the NBA Finals after ousting the defending champion Oklahoma City Thunder in Game 7 on Saturday night. They will now face the New York Knicks, who won the Eastern Conference Finals. The last time the two teams met in the NBA Finals, 27 years ago, San Antonio won, four games to one.