SIGN IN to access Harper’s Magazine
1. Sign in to Customer Care using your account number or postal address.
2. Select Email/Password Information.
3. Enter your new information and click on Save My Changes.
Subscribers can find additional help here. Not a subscriber? Subscribe today!
In March 2007, U.S. Attorney Alice Martin charged Axion Corp., a small business in Huntsville, Alabama, with illegally giving technical drawings for a Blackhawk helicopter part to manufacturers in China. The prosecutors seized Axion’s assets and took away its government contract business. The company won an acquittal at trial a year later, but by then it was out of business.
Evidence surfaced in the trial, however, that the prosecutors who brought the case knew from an early stage that it was bogus. Apparently they believed that, wielding the enormous powers of the Justice Department, they would succeed in getting a plea-bargain. They didn’t reckon with the company’s owner, a feisty Iranian immigrant named Alex Latifi. As he told me in an interview in 2008, he was prepared to stand his ground, convinced that the prosecutors had done wrong and should be forced to pay for it. I wrote up the details of the story for the American Lawyer, and novelist Barry Eisler subsequently wove aspects of the story into his bestselling novel, Fault Line.
Today Latifi has been completely vindicated. The Justice Department acknowledged that, looking at years of litigation, it had decided to pay Axion $290,000 in settlement on account of its misconduct. Axion was also reinstated as a government contractor and has been able to rehire its staff and resume operations, largely on the basis of a series of government contract awards. The matter doesn’t end here, however: the Justice Department acknowledges that a professional ethics investigation into the conduct of the lawyers involved is continuing.
More from Scott Horton:
Six Questions — October 18, 2014, 8:00 pm
Nathaniel Raymond on CIA interrogation techniques.
On a Friday evening in January, a thousand people at the annual California Native Plant Society conference in San Jose settled down to a banquet and a keynote speech delivered by an environmental historian named Jared Farmer. His chosen topic was the eucalyptus tree and its role in California’s ecology and history. The address did not go well. Eucalyptus is not a native plant but a Victorian import from Australia. In the eyes of those gathered at the San Jose DoubleTree, it qualified as “invasive,” “exotic,” “alien” — all dirty words to this crowd, who were therefore convinced that the tree was dangerously combustible, unfriendly to birds, and excessively greedy in competing for water with honest native species.
In his speech, Farmer dutifully highlighted these ugly attributes, but also quoted a few more positive remarks made by others over the years. This was a reckless move. A reference to the tree as “indigenously Californian” elicited an abusive roar, as did an observation that without the aromatic import, the state would be like a “home without its mother.” Thereafter, the mild-mannered speaker was continually interrupted by boos, groans, and exasperated gasps. Only when he mentioned the longhorn beetle, a species imported (illegally) from Australia during the 1990s with the specific aim of killing the eucalyptus, did he earn a resounding cheer.
Percentage of Britons who cannot name the city that provides the setting for the musical Chicago:
An Australian entrepreneur was selling oysters raised in tanks laced with Viagra.
A tourism company in Australia announced a service that will allow users to take the “world’s biggest selfies,” and a Texas man accidentally killed himself while trying to pose for a selfie with a handgun.
Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!
“Shelby is waiting for something. He himself does not know what it is. When it comes he will either go back into the world from which he came, or sink out of sight in the morass of alcoholism or despair that has engulfed other vagrants.”