If you're not yet aware of the controversy in which an Instagram account once associated with West Virginia Delegate Ian Masters, R-Berkeley, left an antisemitic comment on a post about Barstool Sports founder Dave Portnoy, start by reading Caity Coyne's initial story about it on West Virginia Watch.
According to Coyne's reporting on the SNAFU, House Majority Leader Pat McGeehan, R-Hancock, said in an interview on WRNR-TV earlier this month that Masters knew the person who allegedly left the comment through his late brother; he ran into him and wanted to help him, so he gave him, among other things, an old iPhone, on which Masters' social media accounts were still logged in. This individual, according to McGeehan, used the phone to make the comment in question through Masters' Instagram account. "I don’t even think he knew he was on [Masters’] account," McGeehan said.
I'm sorry, what?
So, Masters gave this guy an old iPhone that he happened to have -- because who doesn't travel everywhere with an old spare iPhone with all their accounts still logged in, of course — in case they run into a phoneless buddy who's down on his luck? And then, months later, the guy got on Instagram, didn't realize he was on Masters' account, and made an antisemitic comment?
As Coyne's original story on this noted, "By 2:20 p.m. — after Masters’ conversation with West Virginia Watch — the name on the account was changed to I. Masters and the link to the state Citizens Defense League was removed from the bio." So, this guy just happened to change a bunch of biographical information on the account right after Masters was interviewed by West Virginia Watch, but before the interview went public?
McGeehan spun out the threads of this story for nearly six uninterrupted minutes before the WRNR hosts finally stopped him and basically said, OK, we get it.
This narrative would be low-key genius — as it transforms Masters into not only a victim, but a victim of his own benevolence and generosity — were it not implausible to the point of being farcical.
Naturally, McGeehan wouldn't name the alleged perpetrator. WRNR co-host Bill Stubblefield noted that unauthorized access of an elected official's phone can be a federal crime, and asked, "Shouldn't someone with more professional credentials be investigating?" McGeehan laughed nervously and said, "Ha, no, this is over as far as I'm concerned."
Stubblefield pressed him, stating, "It's over as far as you're concerned, but not the general public ... it needs to be taken up ... by a professional investigator."
McGeehan scoffed and then went on a tirade about the whole thing being a "witch hunt" orchestrated by "left-wing news outlets," which was funny, considering he was on a show that is, if anything, more right leaning than left, and even they didn't buy his cockamamie story.
A few days later, Masters himself went on the same WRNR show. Other than being less abrasive and pompous than McGeehan, Masters merely reiterated the same story and, like McGeehan, declined to provide any evidence for his claim that he didn't make the comment in question.
And questions remain. For one, the alleged perpetrator, having no knowledge of Masters' West Virginia Watch interview, but still being in control of the account, just happened to change the account information during that exact window of time? That's one helluva coincidence.
Another thing: Masters was the president of the West Virginia Citizens Defense League for around a decade. We're supposed to believe that the former president of a gun-rights advocacy group — a group that is almost fanatical about self-defense — gave away his personal cellphone without first wiping its memory and restoring it to factory settings?
Additionally, ACLU and Dragline reporter Kyle Vass noted on his Facebook page: "According to the Internet Archive's Wayback Machine, in 2019 the [@NoQuarterMasters] account linked to a YouTube channel run by Delegate Masters ... Included on that account is ... a favorited video titled memoirs of a Nazi general." I would imagine the Venn diagram of the sets "people who hold antisemitic beliefs" and "people interested Nazi Generals' memoirs" is two almost totally overlapping circles.
Earlier this month, several clergy leaders in Monongalia County called on House Speaker Roger Hanshaw, R-Clay, to fully investigate the situation. Great, except I doubt Hanshaw, or anyone in the state GOP, cares enough.
And really, McGeehan's allegation that West Virginia Democratic Party Chairman Mike Pushkin, D-Kanawha, and Delegate Evan Hansen, D-Monongalia — the only Jews in the legislature — made "these deceptive accusations [against Masters] because they desire power and social status at the expense of others" is as old and tired as antisemitic tropes get. So, would the state GOP really give Masters' alleged antisemitism a second thought? I doubt it.
From what I can tell, Masters is well-regarded by his constituents and people generally find him pleasant to deal with, but any reasonable and intelligent person looking at the available information would conclude that he made an ugly, antisemitic comment, got caught red-handed and enlisted his buddy to help him try to cover it up. Neither Masters nor McGeehan has thus far offered any evidence to the contrary.
Holding antisemitic beliefs might not be a crime, but it is an affront to basic humanity and decency, and should be abhorrent to any West Virginian. And Masters isn't just any West Virginian — he's an elected official, and how our representatives conduct themselves in public isn't inconsequential. Even in our weird and wild age, it matters.
Rafe Godfrey is a former ÂÒÂ×ÄÚÉä Gazette-Mail copy editor and works as a counselor in the field of substance abuse.
