Words & ReflectionsThe Cold War Generation of Patriotic JournalistsWhat happens when journalism becomes government propaganda?U.S. Television News and Cold War Propaganda, 1947-1960Nancy E. BernhardCambridge <strong>University</strong> Press. 245 Pages. $59.95.By Michael J. KirkhornWe shouldn’t be surprised tolearn that network journalistsand executives lent or soldthemselves to the agencies of anticommunistgovernment propaganda duringthe early years of the Cold War. Thiswas a generation of patriotic journalists.Their loyalty during the SecondWorld War, as well as their hatred forfanaticism, prepared them for this nextcrusade.The threat to peace and securityposed by the Soviet Union followed soquickly on the heels of the defeat of theNazis and the Japanese that nothingmore than the turning of a page wasinvolved for journalists to transfer theirloyalties to this new circumstance. Anedge of resentment was added by thefact that the threat of Soviet expansionand subversion was regarded as thebetrayal by a wartime ally of the promiseof peace to which so many had beensacrificed.An inspiring sense of common purposeduring World War II thinned themembrane between press and government.In the years following the end ofthe war, loyalty to country and cooperationwith government agencies werehabits of the mind that could be readilyexploited. There also was an ideologicalundertone. A strong dislike for Sovietcommunism was an American journalisticinstinct that went back to thereporting on the Soviet revolution andthe civil war that followed. For manyAmerican journalists, the Cold Warbecame a full-throttle acceleration ofanticommunist sentiments that hadbeen idling in the journalistic mindsince 1917.Thoroughly researched and forth-right in its conclusions, Nancy E.Bernhard’s book, “U.S. Television Newsand Cold War Propaganda, 1947-1960,”documents the extent of the collaborationbetween government and broadcastnews organizations during thoseyears. She analyzes these relationshipsat the level of institutional cooperationwhere, under the headings of “nationalsecurity state” and “Cold War consensus,”network bosses and governmentofficials participated in a variety of practicesdesigned to act against the communistthreat. Among these practiceswere the imposition of anticommunistviewpoints on news coverage, the controlor suppression of detracting reports,and the invention of programs athome and abroad that played upon the“red scare” and promoted Americanefforts to counter Communism.Bernhard’s research justifies sweepingconclusions. “In the mid-twentiethcentury,” she writes, “the politicaleconomy of the mass media was intimatelytied up with the articulation ofCold War policies, and objectivity becamegrounded in fervent anticommunism.”In describing the dwindlingbelief that in the crusade against Communismtruthfulness should be a distinguishingfeature of U.S. propaganda,she writes that by 1948, Congress, theDepartments of Defense and State, andthe three networks agreed that “Allinformation had military implications.”Bernhard goes on to assert that, as aconsequence, “The Cold War madepropaganda an integral part of Americanforeign policy and took as its casualtyconfidence that the United Stateswould triumph in the marketplace ofideas.”Bernhard proceeds to demonstratehow the same impulse influenced domestictelevision programming as it,too, spread propaganda and ignoreddissent. One of her many examples wasa television program called “Battle Report-Washington”that had a sizeablenational audience from 1950 to 1953,when the United States was at waragainst North Korea and China. Thisprogram, featuring interviews withgovernment and military leaders, wasproduced in the White House andbroadcast by NBC for the purpose ofgiving “the people of the United Statesa firsthand account of what the FederalGovernment is doing in the worldwidebattle against Communism.” Its bellicositymakes Ronald Reagan’s remarkabout the “evil empire” sound sedate.<strong>Nieman</strong> Reports / Fall 1999 71
Words & ReflectionsBernhard reports that the program’sguiding figure, a White House officialnamed John Steelman, referred to Communistleaders as “the fourteen barbarians,”“power-drunk atheists” and“bloodthirsty barbarians.”Bernhard does not spare the venerablefigures of American journalism.CBS News’s redoubtable Edward R.Murrow enjoys an honest moment ortwo, but he was a member of a StateDepartment panel on overseas informationand is seen at one point playingpatty-cake in an interview with Secretaryof State Dean Acheson instead ofasking probing questions.Political columnist Walter Lippmannmakes a sinister—considering the evidenceoffered here, perhaps too sinister—appearanceas a principal journalisticfigure in the investigation ofthe political murder of CBS correspondentGeorge Polk in Greece in 1948. Ashe prepared to return to the UnitedStates to accept a <strong>Nieman</strong> Fellowship,Polk was finishing a story that wouldhave embarrassed grafting members ofthe Greek government. He was shotdead after an interview with a Greekofficial who had played a large part inobtaining “massive” U.S. aid funds forthe royalist government and now wasdepositing money in a New York bank.Greek Communists were blamed forthe killing, but Royalists allied with theUnited States against Communism arenow regarded as the likely culprits.Lippmann, “one of a distinguishedgroup of American journalists whoclaimed to represent the rights of a freepress…,” chaired a committee formedto investigate the killing. Bernhardshows him conferring closely withformer Office of Strategic Services (theCIA’s predecessor) Director WilliamDonovan, whom Lippmann had appointedto conduct the investigation.This, along with lack of aggressive follow-upby the committee, leadsBernhard to infer that Lippmann mighthave participated in a cover-up in whichCommunists were blamed for the murder.“How deliberately they [Lippmannand Donovan] conspired to concealthe Royalist motives for the murderremains unknown,” she writes.A question of continuing importancethat Bernhard raises has to do with theactual substance of journalism’s independencefrom political influence. Shefinds press independence so negligiblethat it barely merits mention. Thismutable sentiment, which fades fast inthe presence of opportunity, appealsto patriotism, cronyism or intimidation,has only one defender in thisbook, the truly redoubtable I.F. Stone,who attacked Lippmann and others forparticipating in the Polk “whitewash.”A less tangible question raised byBernhard has to do with the pliancy ofnews in high-pressure situations. Shesuggests that when apparent crises requirecompromise with government,news can become an illusion—a sort ofcalculated wishful thinking disguisedas reporting. But it was long before1947 that the stage was set for thisinterplay of news and wishfulness inthe coverage of Soviet affairs.Lippmann, who was arguably thecentury’s most influential political journalist,was also a valuable press critic,and early on he saw that coverage ofSoviet Communism would strain theintegrity of American journalists.In 1920, the New Republic publishedLippmann and Charles Merz’s landmarkpress criticism revealing deepfaults in The New York Times’s reportingon the Bolshevik revolution andthe civil war between czarist and revolutionaryforces. “From the point ofview of professional journalism,” theywrote, “the reporting of the RussianRevolution is nothing short of a disaster….On the essential questions thenet effect was almost always misleading….”Yet there was no governmentinterference that could be blamed forthe antirevolutionary bias found in thisreporting and no conspiracy to deceiveAmerican readers. Instead, Lippmannand Merz recounted a “boundless credulity,and an untiring readiness to begulled, and on many occasions…adownright lack of common sense….”The chief censor and chief propagandist,they concluded, “were hope andfear in the minds of reporters and editors”who “wanted to ward off Bolshevism.”Ten years later H.R. Knickerbockerwon a Pulitzer Prize for reporting onthe growing Soviet mobilization forwar. Knickerbocker’s series, called “TheRed Trade Menace” and published inThe Philadelphia Public Ledger andThe New York Post, was the outcomeof a two-month-long 10,000 mile tourof the Soviet Union. His conclusionswere ominous. On November 17, 1930,he reported that the Soviet Union was“a land at war.” He found there “anatmosphere of militant struggle, a nationunder arms living figuratively buteffectively under martial law…,” ruledby leaders whose fear of attack andisolation “has come to approach a phobia.”Terror, he observed, “has becomea permanent institution.”These perceptions continuedthrough World War II, as Americanjournalists expressed admiration forthe sacrifices of Soviet citizens but notfor their government. In an incompletemeditation at the end of a chapterhalfway through her book, Bernhardtries to understand why so many prominentAmericans from different backgroundsuncritically accepted the drasticpremise that truth, dissent andliberty had to be subordinated to therequirements of what one writer called“the most titanic struggle in which thisnation has ever found itself involved.”Bernhard writes that “This puzzlelies at the heart of the Cold War consensus….Even when studying its mostself-conscious designers, we find ittricky to separate deliberate manipulationfrom avowed doctrine from embeddedculture. This seamlessnessmight suggest authentic belief” but,she suggests, in an atmosphere contaminatedby propaganda, the assumptionthat all of these people mightactually have believed what they espousedfeeds on itself. How, then, didsuch a strong consensus emerge?One reply to this question is cynical.For those involved at high levels,whether broadcasters or governmentofficials, the Cold War served as anequal opportunity crusade. Everyonebenefited by acting on degrees of anticommunistbelief, whether calculatedor authentic. To the question of whythey all “internalized their own rhetoric”—orseemed actually to believe whatthey said about the Communist men-72 <strong>Nieman</strong> Reports / Fall 1999