Three guesses, and the first two don’t count. Sharyl Attkisson took a long look into the allegations of domestic violence from Karen Monahan against Keith Ellison, the vice chair of the Democratic National Committee and candidate for Attorney General in Minnesota in the upcoming election. Attkisson interviews Monahan and her attorney, both of whom point out that Democrats practically screamed their belief in vague allegations of assault by Christine Blasey Ford against Brett Kavanaugh from 36 years ago.

The silence from these same Democrats about their own party leader is deafening, Monahan tells Attkisson — especially since Monahan has provided several pieces of contemporaneous corroboration about the incident, which is far more recent:

Emboldened by the #MeToo movement, Monahan says she soon did reveal it was Ellison who’d allegedly abused her. But instead of being believed, she was viciously attacked and called a liar. No advocacy groups reached out. No prominent Democrats came to her defense. … Monahan says the support that important people in her political party gave to Professor Christine Ford compared to her led her to ask: Are women to be believed except when they accuse certain powerful Democrats?

Yes, that clearly seems to be the case here. It’s not that they’re disclaiming belief in Monahan or her claims, at least for the most part. The strategy seems to be to keep ignoring Monahan until after the election. The few who do dispute Monahan, her attorney notes, take aim at her character rather than the corroboration:

Parker: The same people that are questioning Ms. Monahan, the people who say they stand up and support women against abuse and violence, they’re silent. Many others are not just silent but are smearing and attacking Ms. Monahan even though she is just telling her story. Sharyl: We hear the slogan, “women are to be believed,” and yet you haven’t been the recipient of that benefit of the doubt by some people. What does that say to you? Monahan: I had one side talking about anti-Muslim rhetoric. I have the other side totally disregarding that I’m a woman. I’m a woman of color. I come from a Muslim country. I am an immigrant. They’re saying mine’s not a “me too” story. Basically, they’re saying, you’re invisible here, here, here, here. I’m not invisible. And I’m taking up space.

One excuse given her critics by Monahan herself is a refusal to release a video that her son claims depicted the violence. Attkisson mentions that issue and notes that Monahan wouldn’t allow her to access it either:

She claims she managed to video some of what happened next on her phone. We only know because her adult son told about the video on social media. But she’s declined to show us or anyone else, saying it’s traumatizing and embarrassing.

It’s true that Monahan has provided some corroboration for the allegation that is both substantive and contemporaneous, albeit indirect. The video would be direct corroboration, which is why the decision to continue withholding it even from Attkisson’s eyes is puzzling. It’s undoubtedly humiliating, if true; being the victim of domestic violence is humiliating in itself, and is the point of domestic violence. But that much is already known, or at least alleged by Monahan. If Monahan and her son had never used the existence of a video as a public argument for her credibility, it wouldn’t matter — but they did. And in doing so, they have made it unreasonable to refuse to at least share it with credible third parties such as Attkisson who can attest to its corroborative value.

Still, though, Monahan has provided more corroboration and more specific and timely reporting than Ford ever has. Moreover, we already have one public record of an allegation of domestic violence by Ellison – a 911 call in 2005 by his then-girlfriend Amy Alexander. She’s been silent about Ellison ever since losing a court fight over a restraining order, but the call is a matter of public record, and Alexander did tell her story publicly before coming up short in the legal fight:

In May, Keith wanted to try and quiet me so he came to my home uninvited. We had words. His anger kicked in. He berated me. He grabbed me and pushed me out of the way. I was terrified.I called the police. As he fled he broke my screen door. I have never been so scared. I immediately began to second guess myself as many victims of abuse do when at the brink of exposing their abuser. How could I or anyone stand up to the man who had been the local icon of black militancy for almost two decades?

This is far more than anything provided by Ford, Deborah Ramirez, and Julie Swetnick over the last few weeks. Democrats and the media demanded an FBI investigation into those anyway, but have little if anything to say about Monahan. And you don’t even need one guess to know why.