​Earlier this week, the White House reiterated its persistent belief that the rights of white people are endangered and require government safeguarding, releasing a 162-page report that accuses the National Museum of American History of engaging in “anti-White activism.” It claims that exhibits across the Smithsonian institutions were created by “people who don’t want you to love your country.” Just two days later, a group of nearly a dozen Republican lawmakers led by Texas representative August Pfluger threatened to compel the Department of Justice to act against the WNBA unless it makes itself “accountable” for presumably not protecting embattled Indiana Fever guard Caitlin Clark from the roughness of Black players during games. Pfluger suggested that hard fouls against Clark “may be racially motivated” and warned that a civil rights lawsuit against the WNBA on behalf of Clark could be an option.
The Pfluger letter marks the third time in less than a month that the Trump administration and its loyalists have injected themselves into sports, twice using it as a vehicle in their broader culture-war battles, and signaling to the Justice Department that they will scrutinize anything perceived as anti-white, anti-straight, or anti-Christian. Involving Clark pits her against her teammates and the prevailing culture of her league, yet the government may believe she is already caught in that crossfire.
Related: Republicans urge the WNBA to shield Caitlin Clark from potential “racially motivated” attacks. In a sense, time is running out for Clark. She has spent the past few days directing attention to the toxicity of social media, yet her five-year arc as a national figure has largely been able to dodge any explicit connection between her personal political views and the anti-Black sentiments voiced by a portion of her fan base. The government’s insinuation that she requires federal protection from opponents of color further pressures her to articulate more plainly that she sees herself as a target within her sport.
This episode underscores a troubling development in a broader, dystopian trajectory. In June, the Trump Justice Department announced an investigation into whether Major League Baseball’s Pride Night discriminated against Christian players. Just last week, Trump urged FIFA president Gianni Infantino to rescind a one-game suspension for U.S. men’s soccer forward Folarin Balogun ahead of Team USA’s quarterfinal against Belgium. Clark—an assertive guard who gives as good as she gets on the court—may simply want to play basketball. Yet if time is running out for her, it may also be running out for the WNBA, whose simmering tensions have finally erupted into the open. Clark has long served as both a conduit and a symbol for forces beyond her control: on one hand, the league’s best chance to tap into the vast revenue generated by women’s basketball; on the other, a flashpoint for resentments about race, class, and the politics of online visibility that her supporters and critics alike weaponize around her image.