War party's ministry of truth: the Woodrow Wilson administration pioneered using the media to cultivate uncritical loyalty, a technique being emulated by "conservative" media organs under President Bush.

One-party totalitarian states are typically built on a cult of personality woven around the Dear Leader. This benevolent ruler is depicted in official iconography as a pillar of rectitude--a selfless, determined figure whose leadership is all that stands between the regime's subjects and their foreign enemies. In this environment of all-encompassing conflict, it is the patriotic duty of all citizens to unite behind the Dear Leader.

The classic expression of this theme is found in George Orwell's 1984, which describes how inhabitants of Oceania are indoctrinated each morning, via the ubiquitous telescreen, about the need for unstinting loyalty toward Big Brother, the embodiment of the regime. Since Oceania was perpetually at war with either Eurasia or Eastasia (depending on the week), to oppose or even doubt Big Brother was an act of treason that endangered the nation's very existence--at least, according to official propaganda.

Real-life variations on this theme have been disturbingly common. Soviet ruler Josef Stalin and his totalitarian soul-mate Adolf Hitler employed the "Dear Leader" trope with great success, as did Albania's Enver Hoxha, North Korean dictators Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il, and Iraq's Saddam Hussein.

Unfortunately, it was the administration of an American president--Woodrow Wilson--that pioneered the use of the "Dear Leader" propaganda motif.

Creating "War Will"

In his drive for U.S. intervention in World War I, Wilson retained the services of left-leaning publicist George Creel to head the taxpayer-supported "Committee on Public Information" (CPI). "Creel's goal was to create the 'war will,'" observes historian Thomas Fleming in his book The Illusion of Victory: America in World War I. "In a democracy, be believed, this will depended on 'the degree to which each one of all the people of that democracy can concentrate and consecrate body and soul and spirit in a supreme effort of spirit and sacrifice.' That consecration could only be achieved by creating 'a passionate belief in the justice of America's cause that [would] meld the people of the United States into one white-hot mass instinct with fraternity, devotion, courage and deathless determination.'"

The object of this selfless devotion was to be the federal government, as embodied in the austere figure of President Woodrow Wilson himself. And patriotism, by Creel's definition, would be measured by one's unquestioning loyalty to Wilson and support for his war policies.

In order to create a "war will" within the American public, Creel and the CPI undertook a campaign to dominate the embryonic mass media. A daily tabloid newspaper called the Official Bulletin was distributed to every U.S. newspaper, as well as to all military training camps and post offices. A corps of 75,000 speakers called the "Four Minute Men" was organized, and its representatives were dispatched to harangue the public about the supposed virtues of total war and total submission to Washington. The Four Minute Men began proselytizing at movie theaters, but they soon expanded their efforts to church halls, labor union gatherings, lumber camps and even Indian reservations.

With the federal government's help, the CPI soon became the dominant force in the American press, with predictable consequences for those who dissented from the Wilson administration's policy. Self-appointed "loyalty leagues"--the largest of which was the Chicago-based "American Protective League"--sprang up to scrutinize, harass and occasionally lynch those accused of undermining the war effort.

Inspired by CPI's propaganda offensive--which often retailed lurid, and demonstrably false, atrocity stories distributed wholesale by the British government--thousands of usually sensible Americans were led to believe that criticism of Washington was tantamount to aiding and abetting the "Dreadful Hun." In 1918 Congress inscribed this absurd notion into law by passing the Sedition Act, which imposed prison terms of up to 20 years and fines of up to $10,000 for "all forms of expression in any way critical of the government, its symbols, or its mobilization of resources for the war." Under that act, journalists, artists and orators were sent to prison for voicing criticism of the war. The Justice Department subcontracted enforcement of that dictatorial act to the citizen "loyalty leagues," whose rank and file swallowed the CPI's output uncritically.

Fortunately, with the end of the war the fever broke. As wounded and disillusioned soldiers returned from the European war, Americans began--however belatedly--to ask serious questions about the wisdom of intervention. George Creel and his CPI were widely discredited, giving birth to the slang term "Creeling"--the dissemination of patently false government propaganda.

But before Creeling became an object of mass derision, it contributed to a monumental tragedy: Tens of thousands of Americans were killed and hundreds of thousands more wounded in a war not even remotely connected to defense of our nation. As Fleming points out, American intervention prolonged a war that could have ended in a negotiated peace, thereby perhaps preventing the rise of Lenin, Hitler, Mussolini and other totalitarian tyrants who would emulate--and eventually improve upon--the Wilson administration's methods of mass indoctrination.

Anti-war Views Not Allowed

Although historical parallels are always hazardous, the ongoing war in Iraq suggests some similarities to World War I. In each case, our nation was led into a foreign war against a nation that did not attack, or plausibly threaten, our own country. (Americans did die in Germany's attack on the British ocean liner Lusitania, which was carrying munitions for use against the Germans.) George W. Bush, like Woodrow Wilson, has defended the Iraq invasion as necessary to make the world (or, at least part of it) "safe for democracy." In both cases the official justifications for the war proved to be dubious at best. And in both cases the war effort was sustained by a mass media complex determined to propagate a quasi-totalitarian cult of wartime loyalty to the president.

We've not yet seen the full-fledged resurrection of George Creel's CPI; however, Charles Goyette, a top-rated local radio host at Phoenix's KFYI, has learned firsthand that an informal mechanism exists to keep conservative media figures "on message." Since 2002, Goyette--an Army veteran, an early supporter of Barry Goldwater and Ronald Reagan, and a county Republican Party "Man of the Year"--has condemned the unnecessary rush to war with Iraq. He has done so for unimpeachably conservative reasons: "It begins with respect for the wisdom of the Founders and the Constitution's division of power and delegation of authority, [as well as] the principles of governmental restraint and fiscal prudence."

"It seems to me that when there is reason to go to war, it should be self-evident," wrote Goyette in the February 2 issue of American Conservative. "[F]aced with a legitimate casus belli, it should not be hard to muster an actual constitutional declaration of war. Now in the absence of a meaningful Iraqi rote in the 9/11 attack and the mysterious disappearance of those fearsome Weapons of Mass Destruction, there might be some psychic satisfaction in saying 'I told you so!' But it isn't doing my career as a talk-show host any good."

Only a few weeks after signing a new contract with KFYI, Goyette was replaced in his coveted drive-time slot with a duo he describes as "the Frick and Frack of Bushophiles, two giggling guys who think everything our tongue-tied president does is 'Most excellent, dude!' I have been relegated to the later 7-10 p.m. slot, when most people, even in a congested commuting market like Phoenix, are already home watching TV." Other KFYI hosts, according to Goyette, have "vilified me almost daily. As a former radio-station owner myself, it was a little hard to believe management would allow one of their key hosts to be trashed day in and day out on their own airwaves." His own program director reportedly made it clear" that, in the absence of a well-drafted contract, Goyette would have been fired.

Roxanne Cordonier, a host formerly with WMYI 102.5 in Greenville, South Carolina (where she used the on-air name "Roxanne Walker"), insists that she was fired for her on-air opposition to the war'. In a lawsuit filed against the station (state law forbids the termination of an individual's employment because of political views), Cordonier also claims that she was forced to attend a pro-war rally, and was "reprimanded" both on and off the air for expressing her views. "I went through hell," Cordonier told the Greenville News. "I was forced out because I wouldn't remain silent."

Clear Channel: A New CPI?

Goyette is a conservative Republican opposed to the Iraq war; Cordonier is a liberal Democrat who shares that view, though not necessarily the reasons behind it. One thread connecting them is the fact that the stations that have broadcast their programs are owned by Clear Channel Communications (CCC), a huge, San Antonio based media conglomerate that controls programming (both music and talk shows) for 1,225 radio stations.

Clear Channel owned stations rank first in five of the top ten radio markets nationwide, and second in four others. It is estimated that the company dominates at least one tenth of all radio broadcasting, and reaches 110 million listeners each week. Its holdings also include concert promotions and a large share of outdoor billboard advertising. Writing in the December 2003 issue of Harper's magazine, reporter Jeff Sharlet offers one intriguing illustration of Clear Channel's emerging media hegemony. "When I asked to interview Clear Channel's executives, a P.R. rep for the company told me that Clear Channel wouldn't talk to me, because it no longer needs the media," recalled Sharlet.

According to Goyette, the key to understanding his predicament is found "in the incompatibility of these two seemingly disconnected phrases: 'Criticizing Bush' and 'Clear" Channel.'" He describes CCC as "the 800-pound Gorilla of the radio business" and points out that its corporate leaders "have been substantial contributors to George W. Bush's fortunes since before he became president. In fact, Texas billionaire Tom Hicks can be said to be the man who made Bush a millionaire when he purchased the future president's baseball team, the Texas Rangers. Tom Hicks is now vice chairman of Clear Channel."

CCC's roster of talk-show hosts includes such dominant programs as the Rush Limbaugh, Dr. Laura Schlesinger, Scan Hannity and Michael Savage shows, as well as a number of Limbaugh wanna-bes, such as Glenn Beck. During the early stages of the war, Beck and other CCC hosts--al-most as if in conscious emulation of Creel's "Four Minute Men"--organized a series of pro-war demonstrations across the country. Cordonier insists that she was forced by her station management to participate in such a rally, an allegation that may be examined in court. Goyette contends that "in tone and substance, [the CCC demonstrations] were virtually in distinguishable from pro-Bush rallies. I'm sure the administration, which faced a host of regulatory issues affecting Clear Channel, was not displeased."

"Clear Channel, like the Murdoch media empire, is seen by conservatives as a welcome ally," one radio industry figure observed to THE NEW AMERICAN. "The truth is that both Clear Channel and Murdoch are pro-government as a matter of corporate policy. Conservatives see Murdoch's Fox News as conservative because it so slavishly supports the Bush administration. But in order to gain access to China, Murdoch agreed to tailor the news broadcast in that country to advance that government's interests. The same is true of his media holdings in Britain and Australia. At least where the Bush administration is concerned, Clear Channel seems to be following that model of symbiosis with government, rather than the traditional American concept of media as an independent check on the government."

The symbiosis described by this industry insider has set an ominous tone for the conservative media. Like George Creel and the totalitarians who built on his example, the dominant organs of the conservative media have defined patriotism as loyalty to the Dear Leader fiber alles. At least with respect to the war in Iraq, the Establishment-supported conservative media apparatus faithfully, and uncritically, recites every jot and tittle of the administration's ever-evolving party line.

War Fever

Speaking with THE NEW AMERICAN by telephone, Goyette expressed some guarded optimism that the American conservative movement will soon recover its equilibrium.

"I don't think it's unreasonable to describe what we're seeing as a form of mass pathology of the sort we've seen in authoritarian cultures abroad," he commented. "With the [David] Kay disclosures, and the daily headlines reporting that the rationale for war was entirely bogus, I feel a certain vindication, and I think people will now feel more confident in speaking out and asking pertinent questions. They'll understand that there's nothing cowardly or dishonorable about doing so--in fact, when the weight of public opinion is against you, even manufactured opinion, this actually takes some firm commitment to principle."

Goyette is similarly guarded in assessing his own professional prospects. "I grant that my sally-forth into public controversy may be seen as disloyalty to the employer that cuts my paycheck," he told THE NEW AMERICAN. "Now that I've spoken my piece about this, I've drawn my horns in a little and we're at something of a stand-off. But at least the issue is before the public now, and hopefully people will at least begin to consider these issues seriously."

By the end of World War I, the output of George Creel's CPI had been discredited as (in the words of one commentator) "unmitigated brag accompanied by umnitigated gullibility." In a just world, the same fate should befall the conservative media pundits who served as unofficial disinformation ministers for the Bush White House.