Media Reveille

by Gary Gilson
Newsworthy 2002

After the September 11 terrorist attacks, the way the news was being reported became news itself. Was the reporting independent? Or lapdog? Or disloyal to the country’s interests?

Often, when there are questions about media behavior, I get calls from news outlets asking me to join in an exploration of the issues.

On a recent radio program, when the commercial break was ending and the discussion was about to continue, I suddenly heard a clarion call; it took me a moment to realize the trumpet strain was not part of a commercial, it was the signature theme the program had adopted in this time of national concern and resolve.

Back on the air, the program host asked me a question, but instead of answering I asked one of my own. I wondered why the program was using music that reminded me of the scene in the movie "Patton," when George C. Scott, as the general, hearing trumpet strains in his mind, mused about epic battles in ancient history and reveled in his absolute love of war.

Wasn’t it wrong, I asked, for a journalistic enterprise to align itself with a nationalistic and military enterprise, instead of maintaining independence? It still could report on the activities of the nation and the military, without becoming the mouthpiece for the clarion call.

The program host said, "Point taken."

I wasn’t nitpicking; I was concerned about the station’s using an emotional production device that could whip the citizenry into a lather, instead of letting facts speak for themselves and the audience decide for themselves. Pep rallies can distort foreign policy.

On the morning before starting to write this, I heard a former New York City cop, now broadcasting in the Twin Cities, say that he grew up in a culture that never questioned the absolutes of patriotism, honor and duty. Media massaging of those impulses usually gets cloaked in red, white and blue graphics and jingoistic slogans — hardly the stuff of independent thought.

I once spoke to a Veterans of Foreign Wars convention, a crowd of about 1,000 at the Prom Center in St. Paul. They represented the quintessence of patriotism, dedicated warriors who had defended our nation, many who resented the antiwar movement of the Vietnam era.

Their character was a given, a simple cultural truth for media to get their arms around. And yet . . .

I started by asking how many had ever heard of Smedley Butler. Three hands went up. Good, I thought; they’re in for a surprise.

Smedley Butler, in his book "War is a Racket," wrote that he wouldn’t have minded that the average American soldier in World War I earned less than 30 cents a day, minus 10 cents for family allotment, minus four cents for ammunition; no, Butler wouldn’t have minded, if the average munitions manufacturer had been limited to less than 30 cents a day in profit.

The roof of the Prom Center seemed almost to blow off, so thunderous was the howl of recognition by these veterans that, patriots all, they had been badly used by politicians and corporations. I had never witnessed such a thorough release. It destroyed the stereotype of the dogmatic loyalist.

When the uproar faded, I told them who Smedley Butler was: no left-wing radical, but the former commandant of the U.S. Marine Corps.

Butler wrote that he always knew what he was fighting for: to protect the interests of Standard Oil in the Far East, and the interests of United Fruit in Central America.

What journalists need to do in times of crisis is avoid becoming either cheerleaders or cynics. They need to guard their independence and try to force people in power to level with those who elected them.

Regardless of political party, people in power who are prosecuting a war routinely lie to the news media and the public, a fact exquisitely documented in Philip Knightley’s classic book "The First Casualty," written in 1975 and reissued last year. The premise of the book is that the first casualty in war is truth.

One of the best reporters who ever lived, Harrison Salisbury, who grew up in Minneapolis and became a journalistic giant for The New York Times, said it best:

"It’s amazing what you can find out if you just keep asking questions."