As the keynote speaker at the 2013 annual conference of the European Association of Taiwan Studies (EATS), Professor T.J. Cheng of William and Mary College delivered a characteristically interesting paper on Offshore Democracies: An Ideational Challenge to China. His intention is to understand how Taiwan is perceived in mainland China through examining the official and non-official discourses there about the island's democratic institutions and procedures. Two sections of his talk provoked a response from a soft power and public diplomacy perspective.
First, T.J. outlined the sibau minzhu, the 'quartet of evils' that define the official view about Taiwan's democracy. Discourses about the 'evils' are framed by key-words that focus on the more disturbing side of Taiwan's political evolution - black-gold, party-splitting etc.
From a PD perspective, such official discourses constitute part of the environment in which Taiwan must operate. It is unfortunate that China chooses to view Taiwan in such an out-dated way - the problems of corruption are now far worse in the mainland than they are in Taiwan where there is much less electoral corruption than previously - but the question that Taiwan must confront is how to respond and work within the constraints? Taiwan is not in a position to change the Chinese conversation, so must pay far more attention to its soft power capital and the quality of its public diplomacy strategy than previously. The external environment frames the architectures, methods, success and failures of Taiwan's international communications and determines their impact on elite audiences and mass opinion. I have talked about this many times in published papers and in blogs, and this argument forms the core of the book I am now writing which examines the interaction of structure and agency to understand Taiwan's soft power.
I felt that T.J. had inadvertently stumbled on a set of contradictions when he claimed that 'Taiwan's democracy is like a silent movie, more palatable than soundbites', and he applauded Taiwan's government for not hectoring the PRC about human rights abuses. T.J. is right to isolate the practice of democracy as a particularly useful communications strategy - in Public Diplomacy, actions really do speak louder than words - and by providing a model Chinese democracy, Taiwan is demonstrating the fallacy of so-called Asian values: There really is a political alternative for China. However, silence is not an option for Taiwan, and measured, strategic soundbites do have their value. Why be silent when the world is not listening to you anyway? For a state facing Taiwan's predicament, silence means an absence of attention, and so the government does not/cannot challenge the dominant narratives conducted in Beijing. Silence will not undermine a depiction of Taiwan which centres on 'the quartet of evils', circulating within a tightly controlled media and education system.
T.J. is correct to commend the absence of hectoring and pontificating in Taiwan's interactions with the PRC, but such methods of communication are neither strategic nor desirable as they can backfire on the source of the message. Rather, Taiwan must strike a balance between silence - letting the story of Taiwan's democracy speak for itself - and making sure that story is heard by audiences conditioned to have a very different perception of reality.
Another speaker on the Senkaku/Diayutai dispute prefaced her paper with a reference to 'manipulation' by the international media on this subject, evidence for which is provided by the fact that the media concentrate overwhelmingly on Japan and China and ignore Taiwan's claims on the islands. This sounds very similar to claims by Beijing that the international (read western) media deliberately demonise China, and that this accounts for the continuing popularity of the theory of cultural imperialism in China. As a communications scholar, I would reply that the international media know and understand China and Japan; their frames are familiar. Taiwan, however, is largely unfamiliar to international media consumers who have no real understanding of Taiwan or why Taiwan matters. The media will choose to sideline Taiwan because of the competition of voices, interests, stories and news-space, but also because journalists are denied the kind of structured and continuous interaction with diplomats and press officers that may yield coverage. My research reveals that Taiwan is passive in its acceptance of this situation - that its public diplomats and press officers sit back, see a crowded market place and believe that change is impossible. Being voiceless therefore becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
These comments connect with my discussion of T.J.'s paper and the consequences of accepting a 'silent movie' approach. Again, the international media are not necessarily ignoring Taiwan; Taiwan is not getting the message out and its voice heard because of the inadequacies of the public diplomacy structure.
Monday, 6 May 2013
Sunday, 24 March 2013
Obedience to Authority
I recently bought a collection of essays by Walter Lippmann that includes 'Liberty and the News' and 'A Test of the News'. The collection also includes a preface by the great American scholar of modern journalism, Robert McChesney. I read again 'Liberty and the News' immediately after the British Parliament accepted new press regulations, and the essay reads as relevant today as it did in 1920 when it was first published. It is essential for anyone wishing to know about the dilemmas of modern journalism and who seeks to understand debates about the freedom of the press.
My friend, colleague and mentor Philip Taylor used to say that no student should graduate with a degree in Communications Studies without having read Walter Lippmann and Harold Lasswell. When together we re-designed the First Year undergraduate module, History of Communications, we made sure that both Lasswell and Lippmann featured prominently on the reading list. Certainly for the few brief years we were responsible for this module, all the First Year students in the Institute of Communications Studies were required to read these giants of their field.
Students often ask me my recommendation for the most useful or influential books to read. On propaganda, there is a huge bibliography, and Jacques Ellul's Propaganda: The Formation of Men's Attitudes (first published in 1962), a sophisticated theoretical discussion that is rooted in the author's sociological approach, must be close to the top. Let no-one say there is no theory of propaganda: Ellul is evidence of the contrary. It is not an easy read, and certainly I had to take my time with it when I first tackled it during my PhD - but the reader's patience and hard work will be rewarded.
However, there is another book that I recommend to students of communications and politics. I first read it in my First Year of Political Studies - two years before commencing my own PhD on propaganda - where it was on the bibliography for the course called Explanations in Political Science. We also read Karl Marx, Adam Smith, Thomas Hobbes and John Locke among others, but no other book spoke to me as this one. I re-read it as part of my own research and still believe that, despite being a treatise on psychology rather than communications, it is an indispensable and convincing discussion of how propaganda and persuasion work. It provides an essential backdrop for understanding why men continue to commit the most atrocious acts in the name of a higher cause.
The book to which I refer is Stanley Milgram's Obedience to Authority, published in 1974, though the results of his experiments were first published in the early 1960s. The experiments he conducted are well-known and controversial and raised many ethical questions at the time: they involve persuading members of the public to administer electric shocks to other participants (actors in on the experiment) if they answer a question incorrectly. The subject is instructed to increase the power of the shocks (of course, this is all fake) and the actor screams in agony. The premise of the experiment is to determine how far someone will go in obeying authority, even when he protests about the harm he thinks he is causing a fellow human being. The participant is persuaded to do so through the manufacture of legitimacy: this is a scientific experiment, and is being conducted by men in white coats carrying clip boards within a laboratory setting. The scientist is the authority figure. As Schiller (2005: 158) notes, people 'have learned that when experts tell them something is all right, it probably is, even if it does not seem so.'
I suggest Obedience to Authority is one of the greatest studies of propaganda which turns on familiar and accepted symbolism - how many television advertisements for washing powder or toothpaste feature men in white lab coats holding clip boards - and therefore the creation of trust and legitimacy. To be effective propaganda must be rooted in a particular social setting; we may not feel comfortable doing the things we are asked to do, but if we can be persuaded that it is for a greater - and legitimate - cause (national security, the advance of science) we are more likely to participate.
As a psychologist Milgram helps us to understand why we are so vulnerable to persuasion. Perhaps we are uncomfortable with the experiments because they reveal something about human nature, our psychological vulnerability and our willingness to engage in disturbing acts even when we know it is wrong to do so.
Participation in the experiment even changed the way the subjects acted and thought about themselves. During the Vietnam War, Milgram received a letter from a subject who had taken part in the experiment:
However, there is reason for optimism. The overt and covert resistance demonstrated by some of the subjects in Milgram's experiment confirms that men are still capable of acting as agents of their own behaviour and can, like the conscientious objector quoted above, exercise choice; and this is comforting. in the information age with our addiction to mobile phones, the internet and virtual interaction, it is more important than ever before to teach media literacy so that we may preserve ability to choose and not have our choices decided for us.
As Albert Einstein said, 'The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything'. Above all, Milgam's experiments are a warning to those who watch and do nothing.
References
Lippmann, Walter (2010). Liberty and the News. New York: Dover.
Milgram, Stanley (1974). Obedience to Authority. New York: Harpercollins.
Shiller, Robert (2005). Irrational Exuberance (2nd ed.). Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press.
My friend, colleague and mentor Philip Taylor used to say that no student should graduate with a degree in Communications Studies without having read Walter Lippmann and Harold Lasswell. When together we re-designed the First Year undergraduate module, History of Communications, we made sure that both Lasswell and Lippmann featured prominently on the reading list. Certainly for the few brief years we were responsible for this module, all the First Year students in the Institute of Communications Studies were required to read these giants of their field.
Students often ask me my recommendation for the most useful or influential books to read. On propaganda, there is a huge bibliography, and Jacques Ellul's Propaganda: The Formation of Men's Attitudes (first published in 1962), a sophisticated theoretical discussion that is rooted in the author's sociological approach, must be close to the top. Let no-one say there is no theory of propaganda: Ellul is evidence of the contrary. It is not an easy read, and certainly I had to take my time with it when I first tackled it during my PhD - but the reader's patience and hard work will be rewarded.
However, there is another book that I recommend to students of communications and politics. I first read it in my First Year of Political Studies - two years before commencing my own PhD on propaganda - where it was on the bibliography for the course called Explanations in Political Science. We also read Karl Marx, Adam Smith, Thomas Hobbes and John Locke among others, but no other book spoke to me as this one. I re-read it as part of my own research and still believe that, despite being a treatise on psychology rather than communications, it is an indispensable and convincing discussion of how propaganda and persuasion work. It provides an essential backdrop for understanding why men continue to commit the most atrocious acts in the name of a higher cause.
The book to which I refer is Stanley Milgram's Obedience to Authority, published in 1974, though the results of his experiments were first published in the early 1960s. The experiments he conducted are well-known and controversial and raised many ethical questions at the time: they involve persuading members of the public to administer electric shocks to other participants (actors in on the experiment) if they answer a question incorrectly. The subject is instructed to increase the power of the shocks (of course, this is all fake) and the actor screams in agony. The premise of the experiment is to determine how far someone will go in obeying authority, even when he protests about the harm he thinks he is causing a fellow human being. The participant is persuaded to do so through the manufacture of legitimacy: this is a scientific experiment, and is being conducted by men in white coats carrying clip boards within a laboratory setting. The scientist is the authority figure. As Schiller (2005: 158) notes, people 'have learned that when experts tell them something is all right, it probably is, even if it does not seem so.'
I suggest Obedience to Authority is one of the greatest studies of propaganda which turns on familiar and accepted symbolism - how many television advertisements for washing powder or toothpaste feature men in white lab coats holding clip boards - and therefore the creation of trust and legitimacy. To be effective propaganda must be rooted in a particular social setting; we may not feel comfortable doing the things we are asked to do, but if we can be persuaded that it is for a greater - and legitimate - cause (national security, the advance of science) we are more likely to participate.
As a psychologist Milgram helps us to understand why we are so vulnerable to persuasion. Perhaps we are uncomfortable with the experiments because they reveal something about human nature, our psychological vulnerability and our willingness to engage in disturbing acts even when we know it is wrong to do so.
Participation in the experiment even changed the way the subjects acted and thought about themselves. During the Vietnam War, Milgram received a letter from a subject who had taken part in the experiment:
While I was a subject in 1964, though I believed that I was hurting someone, I was totally unaware of why I was doing so. Few people ever realize when they are acting according to their own beliefs and when they are meekly submitting to authority… To permit myself to be drafted with the understanding that I am submitting to authority's demand to do something very wrong would make me frightened of myself… I am fully prepared to go to jail if I am not granted Conscientious Objector status. Indeed, it is the only course I could take to be faithful to what I believe. My only hope is that members of my board act equally according to their conscience… (Milgram, 1974: 200).'I was only following orders' is a useful get-out for individuals who have committed some of the world's worst atrocities. But it is wrong to to think that this is what Milgram teaches us. Rather Obedience to Authority reveals the complexity of the human mind that is capable of processing much more than 'instructions'; within particular social settings and contexts we are persuaded rather than instructed, and such persuasion may be as much non-verbal as it is verbal (why else do we think that a picture paints a thousand words?). Symbols and stereotypes provide easy cues about how to think or behave towards certain people or in specific situations.
However, there is reason for optimism. The overt and covert resistance demonstrated by some of the subjects in Milgram's experiment confirms that men are still capable of acting as agents of their own behaviour and can, like the conscientious objector quoted above, exercise choice; and this is comforting. in the information age with our addiction to mobile phones, the internet and virtual interaction, it is more important than ever before to teach media literacy so that we may preserve ability to choose and not have our choices decided for us.
As Albert Einstein said, 'The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything'. Above all, Milgam's experiments are a warning to those who watch and do nothing.
References
Lippmann, Walter (2010). Liberty and the News. New York: Dover.
Milgram, Stanley (1974). Obedience to Authority. New York: Harpercollins.
Shiller, Robert (2005). Irrational Exuberance (2nd ed.). Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press.
Monday, 11 February 2013
Japan declares propaganda war
On 8 February 2013, Pravda.ru published a report with an intriguing title: 'Japan declares propaganda war on China, Korea and Russia' (Japan declares propaganda war). The report is mainly concerned with competing claims over the Kuril and Senkaku islands.
Given that Russia and Japan are in conflict over the Kuril islands it is no surprise that Pravda uses a very confrontational discourse in reporting this news, as revealed in its free (and interchangeable) application of the terms 'propaganda' and 'information war.' There is little in the report to support the casual use of these labels: We are told that the Japanese government has established a 'special unit' - we learn nothing more except the unit is composed of 'officials and independent experts' - to 'study and thoroughly analyse the positions of other countries on the territorial dispute.' Shouldn't such research be a priority for any government involved in difficult diplomatic negotiations with another power? It is a huge leap from engaing in such research to the launch of an 'information war'. Moreover, the report then refers to Japan's urgent need to 'communicate its position to the international community'. This is public diplomacy, hardly the basis for an information war or propaganda campaign.
Beyond the rhetoric, the Pravda report does identify some interesting challenges for Japanese public diplomacy. In particular, it reinforces the existing evidence that the Japanese believe there is a strong correlation between the dissemination of its culture and the capacity to shape the international conversation in its favour, or modify attitudes and behaviour towards Japan (although of course the Japanese are not alone in placing their faith in the power of culture to meet international aspirations).
Research on Japan's JET programme of cultural and educational exchange demonstrates that there is no guaranteed correlation between participation in such a programme and sympathy/empathy for Japan. Participation may increase knowledge about Japan and help one's familiarity with the language, but such outreach can encounter cognitive dissonance among audiences socialised into perceiving a Japanese threat (either historical or contemporary). China is understandably very suspicious of Japan because of their traumatic shared history, yet the Chinese remain major consumers of Japanese pop culture products (Yoshiko, 2008). Writing on the JET programme of cultural and educational exchange, McConnell (2008: 24-7) reveals that, when interviewed, '[M]any alumni were at great pains to separate their love of Japanese culture and people from their views about the Japanese state, and, in their minds, deeply critical views of Japan often co-existed with positive elements.' McConnell also references the 'last three feet' of public diplomacy when he describes the 'face-to-face' interpersonal 'dimension of human exchange'; and he concludes that the JET programme 'is not teaching people to like Japan, so much as teaching them to communicate with Japanese' (McConnell, 2008: 30). This is an important distinction, though it is often overlooked.
The Pravda report reveals that the Japanese 'information war' is likely to mobilise manga, anime and other cultural products that appeal especially to the youth of East Asia and in Russia (which is 'currently going through the Japanese boom'). This conforms to a new strategy in Japanese public and cultural diplomacy which was designed by the government's Public Diplomacy Department in 2004 to project 'Cool Japan'. This strategy made four mistakes:
1. It assumed that simply disseminating culture was the route to success and failed to reference the audience in a way that would identify whether and how these products were consumed. Does Japanese pop culture reach beyond East Asia? It may have some effect in helping the government realise its ambitions in its neighbourhood, but more research is needed to understand the global audience for such cultural products. There is possibly an issue of cultural dissonance here: manga and anime are extremely popular in East Asia, and it is usual to see adults in cafes, bookshops and on buses and trains reading such books. In the west, however, there is still some suspicion of manga and anime as 'cartoons' (despite their critical success and their often dark, adult and disturbing content - just watch Miyazaki's 2001 Oscar-winning Spirited Away) which means they are seen primarily as entertainment for children (you are more likely to see an adult on the London tube unashamedly reading Fifty Shades of Grey than an animated book).
2. The strategy confused public diplomacy, cultural diplomacy, soft power and even nation-branding. Again, Japan is not alone in this. The absence of precision in terminology merely confuses strategy and the capacity and instruments required to implement the strategy. It also means that Japan had no starting point: what was the strategy designed to achieve?
3. By using culture as an entry point Japan overlooked the research that demonstrates there is a negligible correlation between interest and consumption of Japanese culture in East Asia and sympathy/empathy towards the Japanese nation and government.
4. Japan also failed to notice that the British Labour government's attempt to brand the UK 'Cool Britannia' in the late 1990s failed (and was something of an embarrassment). This strategy was artificial and contrived. Tourists still flock to the UK to breathe its history and tour Britain's castles, stately homes, the Tower of London and to watch the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace . It is possible to argue that interest in Japan is similarly based on its history and cultural memory. Why change what works? Is this an example of Japan throwing the baby out with the bathwater?
References
Yoshiko, N. (2008), 'Shared memories: Japanese pop culture in China'
and
McConnell, D.L.M. (2008), 'Japan's image problem and the soft power solution'
are published in Y. Watanabe & D.L. McConnell (eds.), Soft Power Superpowers: Cultural and National Assets of Japan and the United States (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe).
Given that Russia and Japan are in conflict over the Kuril islands it is no surprise that Pravda uses a very confrontational discourse in reporting this news, as revealed in its free (and interchangeable) application of the terms 'propaganda' and 'information war.' There is little in the report to support the casual use of these labels: We are told that the Japanese government has established a 'special unit' - we learn nothing more except the unit is composed of 'officials and independent experts' - to 'study and thoroughly analyse the positions of other countries on the territorial dispute.' Shouldn't such research be a priority for any government involved in difficult diplomatic negotiations with another power? It is a huge leap from engaing in such research to the launch of an 'information war'. Moreover, the report then refers to Japan's urgent need to 'communicate its position to the international community'. This is public diplomacy, hardly the basis for an information war or propaganda campaign.
Beyond the rhetoric, the Pravda report does identify some interesting challenges for Japanese public diplomacy. In particular, it reinforces the existing evidence that the Japanese believe there is a strong correlation between the dissemination of its culture and the capacity to shape the international conversation in its favour, or modify attitudes and behaviour towards Japan (although of course the Japanese are not alone in placing their faith in the power of culture to meet international aspirations).
Research on Japan's JET programme of cultural and educational exchange demonstrates that there is no guaranteed correlation between participation in such a programme and sympathy/empathy for Japan. Participation may increase knowledge about Japan and help one's familiarity with the language, but such outreach can encounter cognitive dissonance among audiences socialised into perceiving a Japanese threat (either historical or contemporary). China is understandably very suspicious of Japan because of their traumatic shared history, yet the Chinese remain major consumers of Japanese pop culture products (Yoshiko, 2008). Writing on the JET programme of cultural and educational exchange, McConnell (2008: 24-7) reveals that, when interviewed, '[M]any alumni were at great pains to separate their love of Japanese culture and people from their views about the Japanese state, and, in their minds, deeply critical views of Japan often co-existed with positive elements.' McConnell also references the 'last three feet' of public diplomacy when he describes the 'face-to-face' interpersonal 'dimension of human exchange'; and he concludes that the JET programme 'is not teaching people to like Japan, so much as teaching them to communicate with Japanese' (McConnell, 2008: 30). This is an important distinction, though it is often overlooked.
The Pravda report reveals that the Japanese 'information war' is likely to mobilise manga, anime and other cultural products that appeal especially to the youth of East Asia and in Russia (which is 'currently going through the Japanese boom'). This conforms to a new strategy in Japanese public and cultural diplomacy which was designed by the government's Public Diplomacy Department in 2004 to project 'Cool Japan'. This strategy made four mistakes:
1. It assumed that simply disseminating culture was the route to success and failed to reference the audience in a way that would identify whether and how these products were consumed. Does Japanese pop culture reach beyond East Asia? It may have some effect in helping the government realise its ambitions in its neighbourhood, but more research is needed to understand the global audience for such cultural products. There is possibly an issue of cultural dissonance here: manga and anime are extremely popular in East Asia, and it is usual to see adults in cafes, bookshops and on buses and trains reading such books. In the west, however, there is still some suspicion of manga and anime as 'cartoons' (despite their critical success and their often dark, adult and disturbing content - just watch Miyazaki's 2001 Oscar-winning Spirited Away) which means they are seen primarily as entertainment for children (you are more likely to see an adult on the London tube unashamedly reading Fifty Shades of Grey than an animated book).
2. The strategy confused public diplomacy, cultural diplomacy, soft power and even nation-branding. Again, Japan is not alone in this. The absence of precision in terminology merely confuses strategy and the capacity and instruments required to implement the strategy. It also means that Japan had no starting point: what was the strategy designed to achieve?
3. By using culture as an entry point Japan overlooked the research that demonstrates there is a negligible correlation between interest and consumption of Japanese culture in East Asia and sympathy/empathy towards the Japanese nation and government.
4. Japan also failed to notice that the British Labour government's attempt to brand the UK 'Cool Britannia' in the late 1990s failed (and was something of an embarrassment). This strategy was artificial and contrived. Tourists still flock to the UK to breathe its history and tour Britain's castles, stately homes, the Tower of London and to watch the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace . It is possible to argue that interest in Japan is similarly based on its history and cultural memory. Why change what works? Is this an example of Japan throwing the baby out with the bathwater?
References
Yoshiko, N. (2008), 'Shared memories: Japanese pop culture in China'
and
McConnell, D.L.M. (2008), 'Japan's image problem and the soft power solution'
are published in Y. Watanabe & D.L. McConnell (eds.), Soft Power Superpowers: Cultural and National Assets of Japan and the United States (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe).
Monday, 4 February 2013
Islamism and Propaganda
In the middle of the last decade I heard the term 'Islamism' for the first time, and this sparked an abiding interest in the discourses that have helped define the so-called War on Terror. There is a huge literature on this subject, and almost all observe how language has justified both the terrorist attacks themselves and the response to them. Most famous is President George W. Bush's reference to a 'Crusade' in the immediate aftermath of 9/11 which not only brought to the surface particular belligerent and anti-Muslim images of the US's response to the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington, but also played into Al-Qaeda's hands by using the very narratives which the terrorist organisation exploits throughout its propaganda.
One of the issues I have been thinking about for a long time - and I post my thoughts and questions here in the wake of the intensive coverage of current events in Mali in the hope of getting feedback and clarification - is the insistence by western media and politicians to use the term 'Islamist' instead of 'Islamic' or 'Muslim' to refer to specific groups of Muslims seeking a non-peaceful way of imposing their beliefs. As a student of propaganda I am aware of the emotional and intellectual reaction to 'isms', and one cannot help but wonder whether the ubiquitous and rather arbitrary use of the label 'Islamist' after 9/11 is justified. One did not hear this term used so widely before 2001.
Labels are the easiest form of propaganda: they provide a shorthand, the basis for a simple and emotional reaction to often complex ideas, and therefore help reinforce stereotypes. By describing fundamentalist Muslim groups as Islamist, are audiences persuaded by the very label in a headline to view them in a particular way even before they have heard or read the rest of the story? The natural equation of Islamism with Communism and Fascism provokes the perception of an ideology determined to refashion on totalitarian grounds not only the state and political institutions, but culture, society and man.
As far as I understand the difference, Islam refers to a faith whereas Islamism refers to a specific political ideology which advocates the sovereignty of divine law and the creation of an Islamic state. It privileges Islamic law within national boundaries, and does not confine law to the personal realm or as a matter of faith and personal responsibility. This means the extension of Islamic law to all people living within a particular national territory, regardless of whether they are Muslim, Christian or Jewish. It offers no policy-making agenda as Islamism is not future-oriented; rather, it is embedded in the past glories of Islam and the historical mistreatment of Muslims. The past justifies the present.
Islamism is in essence the politicisation of Islam, and the word is often used in conjunction with 'militant' or 'fundamentalist' to emphasise its distance from law abiding paths to power. However, such terms also help reinforce the beliefs of those who, like Samuel Huntington, foresee an inevitable 'Clash of Civilizations'. They help to make Muslims the 'other' and suggest that 'we' respect legal and democratic paths to government, unlike 'them' who use 'militant' or 'fundemantalist' ways of achieving and exercising power; and when successful they govern in a way that is completely incompatible with western secular understandings of, and approaches to, politics. Islamists become dangerous entities, exercising power in 'rogue states', responsible for human rights abuses and ultimately for the global terrorist threat. So in Mali 'we' support Muslims; 'we'
fight against Islamists. The power of the Egyptian Brotherhood in Egypt has raised concerns about Islamism there and has forced 'the West' to question, as does Foreign Policy magazine, whether 'we' made a mistake in letting the Brotherhood win (in democratic elections that were demanded by the international community. You can't advocate the sovereignty of the people and then criticise the very same people if they elect someone to power you don't like).
Casual use of the term 'Islamism' or 'Islamist' is a useful propaganda device, and like all propaganda devices, the more we hear it, see it and use it in a cavalier fashion, the more value it acquires as propaganda. The complexity and the precision of the meaning is lost. It also serves as a way of reducing the divisions within Islam to easily-packaged and digestible soundbites. Islam becomes an homogeneous unit, and the very real theological and geographical differences between Muslims or Islamists are conveniently overlooked. You are either a 'good' Muslim or a 'bad' Muslim.
My intention here is not to judge the accuracy or otherwise of the perceptions of Islamists; nor do I wish to defend Muslims or Islamic states which engage in human rights abuses or are compliant with terrorists, just in the same way I do not wish to defend any government, religion or secular movement which threatens, cajoles or is intolerant of any other people or creed. Rather, I wish to bring to the table my own thoughts on the use of the term Islamism and the way its imprecise application by the media can be a valuable tool of propaganda and helps demonise groups and individuals. I know very little about Islamism, and so I hope that some of the readers for this blog will respond and help me understand better this interesting and important issue. I look forward to your comments.
One of the issues I have been thinking about for a long time - and I post my thoughts and questions here in the wake of the intensive coverage of current events in Mali in the hope of getting feedback and clarification - is the insistence by western media and politicians to use the term 'Islamist' instead of 'Islamic' or 'Muslim' to refer to specific groups of Muslims seeking a non-peaceful way of imposing their beliefs. As a student of propaganda I am aware of the emotional and intellectual reaction to 'isms', and one cannot help but wonder whether the ubiquitous and rather arbitrary use of the label 'Islamist' after 9/11 is justified. One did not hear this term used so widely before 2001.
Labels are the easiest form of propaganda: they provide a shorthand, the basis for a simple and emotional reaction to often complex ideas, and therefore help reinforce stereotypes. By describing fundamentalist Muslim groups as Islamist, are audiences persuaded by the very label in a headline to view them in a particular way even before they have heard or read the rest of the story? The natural equation of Islamism with Communism and Fascism provokes the perception of an ideology determined to refashion on totalitarian grounds not only the state and political institutions, but culture, society and man.
As far as I understand the difference, Islam refers to a faith whereas Islamism refers to a specific political ideology which advocates the sovereignty of divine law and the creation of an Islamic state. It privileges Islamic law within national boundaries, and does not confine law to the personal realm or as a matter of faith and personal responsibility. This means the extension of Islamic law to all people living within a particular national territory, regardless of whether they are Muslim, Christian or Jewish. It offers no policy-making agenda as Islamism is not future-oriented; rather, it is embedded in the past glories of Islam and the historical mistreatment of Muslims. The past justifies the present.
Islamism is in essence the politicisation of Islam, and the word is often used in conjunction with 'militant' or 'fundamentalist' to emphasise its distance from law abiding paths to power. However, such terms also help reinforce the beliefs of those who, like Samuel Huntington, foresee an inevitable 'Clash of Civilizations'. They help to make Muslims the 'other' and suggest that 'we' respect legal and democratic paths to government, unlike 'them' who use 'militant' or 'fundemantalist' ways of achieving and exercising power; and when successful they govern in a way that is completely incompatible with western secular understandings of, and approaches to, politics. Islamists become dangerous entities, exercising power in 'rogue states', responsible for human rights abuses and ultimately for the global terrorist threat. So in Mali 'we' support Muslims; 'we'
fight against Islamists. The power of the Egyptian Brotherhood in Egypt has raised concerns about Islamism there and has forced 'the West' to question, as does Foreign Policy magazine, whether 'we' made a mistake in letting the Brotherhood win (in democratic elections that were demanded by the international community. You can't advocate the sovereignty of the people and then criticise the very same people if they elect someone to power you don't like).
Casual use of the term 'Islamism' or 'Islamist' is a useful propaganda device, and like all propaganda devices, the more we hear it, see it and use it in a cavalier fashion, the more value it acquires as propaganda. The complexity and the precision of the meaning is lost. It also serves as a way of reducing the divisions within Islam to easily-packaged and digestible soundbites. Islam becomes an homogeneous unit, and the very real theological and geographical differences between Muslims or Islamists are conveniently overlooked. You are either a 'good' Muslim or a 'bad' Muslim.
My intention here is not to judge the accuracy or otherwise of the perceptions of Islamists; nor do I wish to defend Muslims or Islamic states which engage in human rights abuses or are compliant with terrorists, just in the same way I do not wish to defend any government, religion or secular movement which threatens, cajoles or is intolerant of any other people or creed. Rather, I wish to bring to the table my own thoughts on the use of the term Islamism and the way its imprecise application by the media can be a valuable tool of propaganda and helps demonise groups and individuals. I know very little about Islamism, and so I hope that some of the readers for this blog will respond and help me understand better this interesting and important issue. I look forward to your comments.
Sunday, 3 February 2013
Qatar's soft power
Here is a link to an excellent article in The Observer newspaper (3 February 2013) by Chatham House's Jane Kinninmont (From football to military might).
Jane discusses why Qatar now enjoys such a strong international presence, and links this with issues of 'soft power' and especially the prominence of Al-Jazeera. I wish to link to the article here because in December 2012 I did question Qatar's omission from Monocle's 2012 Soft Power Survey (Monocle's Soft Power Survey).
Saturday, 2 February 2013
Acoustic Artillery: Songs of War
Regular readers of this blog will know of my sincere admiration of, and love for, the work of The Children's Television Workshop. Sesame Street and its local variants provide education through fun, visual entertainment and song for millions of children throughout the world; and it also teaches them about difficult social issues that may be specific to their locale, the need for tolerance, love and friendship, and these programmes can help to break down cultural and social barriers between people from different societies and backgrounds (Sesame Street in Pakistan; More on Sesame Street;US to Fund Sesame Street Remake for Pakistan).
In May 2012, Al-Jazeera broadcast a programme called Songs of War which discusses how music has been used as an instrument of psychological warfare, torture and as the soundtrack for Americans engaging in combat in Iraq (Songs of War). The programme follows Sesame Street's resident composer, Christopher Cerf, as he discovers that his own music for the programme has been used as part of the interrogation of captives held at Guantanamo Bay. Victims are held in claustrophobic conditions, hooded and shackled and forced to listen to music turned up to full volume. The same songs are repeated over and over again. Cerf talks to the interrogators, the victims, American marines, psychologists and the musicians themselves to understand the development of "noise" as a weapon of war - Acoustic Artillery.
The dominant theme of the programme is how noise, including music, is a method of controlling the environment in which the detainees find themselves. It is part of an intensive programme of sensory dissonance which is designed to isolate and weaken the captive, deprive him of his sensory capacity, interfere with his cognitive processes, and ultimately increase his vulnerability and dependence on his interrogators. The idea is not to torture through noise, but to push the captive to a point where he demands relief from it and thus becomes a willing participant in the interrogation process. The western music played at Guantanamo, a mixture of heavy rock and the otherwise good-humoured songs of Sesame Street - with both being played at the same time to amplify the unpleasant nature of discordant noise - also strengthens the cultural dissonance the victims experience.
Cerf discovers that music and warfare have a long history, and the marines in Iraq are consuming music for the same reason warriors have listened in centuries past: as a bonding exercise before battle, or to feel the adrenaline pump through their bodies as they go into combat.
This is a very disturbing programme that contributes to our understanding of modern psychological warfare. Congratulations to Al-Jazeera for making and broadcasting it.
In May 2012, Al-Jazeera broadcast a programme called Songs of War which discusses how music has been used as an instrument of psychological warfare, torture and as the soundtrack for Americans engaging in combat in Iraq (Songs of War). The programme follows Sesame Street's resident composer, Christopher Cerf, as he discovers that his own music for the programme has been used as part of the interrogation of captives held at Guantanamo Bay. Victims are held in claustrophobic conditions, hooded and shackled and forced to listen to music turned up to full volume. The same songs are repeated over and over again. Cerf talks to the interrogators, the victims, American marines, psychologists and the musicians themselves to understand the development of "noise" as a weapon of war - Acoustic Artillery.
The dominant theme of the programme is how noise, including music, is a method of controlling the environment in which the detainees find themselves. It is part of an intensive programme of sensory dissonance which is designed to isolate and weaken the captive, deprive him of his sensory capacity, interfere with his cognitive processes, and ultimately increase his vulnerability and dependence on his interrogators. The idea is not to torture through noise, but to push the captive to a point where he demands relief from it and thus becomes a willing participant in the interrogation process. The western music played at Guantanamo, a mixture of heavy rock and the otherwise good-humoured songs of Sesame Street - with both being played at the same time to amplify the unpleasant nature of discordant noise - also strengthens the cultural dissonance the victims experience.
Cerf discovers that music and warfare have a long history, and the marines in Iraq are consuming music for the same reason warriors have listened in centuries past: as a bonding exercise before battle, or to feel the adrenaline pump through their bodies as they go into combat.
This is a very disturbing programme that contributes to our understanding of modern psychological warfare. Congratulations to Al-Jazeera for making and broadcasting it.
Sunday, 23 December 2012
A Christmas Sing with Bing
Christmas has a smell. For some, it may be mince pies or a turkey roasting in the oven; for others, pine or holly. For me, Christmas smells of vinyl.
My parents had a small collection of Bing Crosby Christmas albums from the 1950s and early 1960s. There was a lot of crossover content between them and invariably the holly-trimmed sleeves would feature a picture of Bing himself in a Santa hat. I usually played these 33½ rpm records (mums and dads, please explain the idea of a 'record' and 'record player' to your offspring) early in the run-up to Christmas, driving up my child-like Christmas excitement and driving down my parents' tolerance levels. These records, or at least the vinyl from which they were made, had a smell that I will always associate with Christmas.
Which brings me to the public diplomacy angle of this blog.
One of the records, which I rediscovered today in my mum's wardrobe, was called A Christmas Sing with Bing Around the World. This is a recording of a show ('originally sponsored by The Insurance Company of North America Companies') Bing Crosby broadcast live on Christmas Eve 1955 on CBS Radio and which was transmitted all around the world by the Voice of America. The sleeve notes tell us:
What makes this such a special recording is that Bing speaks as well as sings - it is a radio programme, after all - talking about the joys of Christmas and handing over to correspondents in other parts of the world who describe Christmas Eve wherever they are (England, Holland, Canada, France, the Vatican, Salt Lake City and Hollywood). Moreover, there is a letter written and read (in southern drawl) by eleven years old Delores Short of the Dessie Scott Children's Home, Pine Ridge, Kentucky on the theme 'What Christmas Means to Me.'
I am not going to offer any substantive or critical public diplomacy analysis. It's now the holiday season and I want to turn off my computer and turn my attention to Die Hard on TV. But I just wanted to share this (re)discovery with you, and consider how teaming the Voice of America and Bing Crosby must have signalled to audiences around the world a particular (American) style or brand of Christmas. It is also personally interesting because listening to this record every year in the 1970s and early 1980s I had no idea that I would become such an avid listener of the Voice of America, visit its headquarters in Washington DC, and write a PhD and book about this remarkable radio station.
I would be interested to know from my historian readers if they have come across any information about this annual broadcast during their research. In the meantime, I wish you all a wonderful Christmas and a peaceful 2013.
My parents had a small collection of Bing Crosby Christmas albums from the 1950s and early 1960s. There was a lot of crossover content between them and invariably the holly-trimmed sleeves would feature a picture of Bing himself in a Santa hat. I usually played these 33½ rpm records (mums and dads, please explain the idea of a 'record' and 'record player' to your offspring) early in the run-up to Christmas, driving up my child-like Christmas excitement and driving down my parents' tolerance levels. These records, or at least the vinyl from which they were made, had a smell that I will always associate with Christmas.
Which brings me to the public diplomacy angle of this blog.
One of the records, which I rediscovered today in my mum's wardrobe, was called A Christmas Sing with Bing Around the World. This is a recording of a show ('originally sponsored by The Insurance Company of North America Companies') Bing Crosby broadcast live on Christmas Eve 1955 on CBS Radio and which was transmitted all around the world by the Voice of America. The sleeve notes tell us:
Almost everybody in the world was able to hear that Christmas Eve broadcast, first presented on December 24th at 9.00 pm Eastern Standard Time, with Bing, the Paul Weston Orchestra, the Norman Luboff Choir Group, and many of the famed choirs of the United States and foreign countries.
What makes this such a special recording is that Bing speaks as well as sings - it is a radio programme, after all - talking about the joys of Christmas and handing over to correspondents in other parts of the world who describe Christmas Eve wherever they are (England, Holland, Canada, France, the Vatican, Salt Lake City and Hollywood). Moreover, there is a letter written and read (in southern drawl) by eleven years old Delores Short of the Dessie Scott Children's Home, Pine Ridge, Kentucky on the theme 'What Christmas Means to Me.'
I am not going to offer any substantive or critical public diplomacy analysis. It's now the holiday season and I want to turn off my computer and turn my attention to Die Hard on TV. But I just wanted to share this (re)discovery with you, and consider how teaming the Voice of America and Bing Crosby must have signalled to audiences around the world a particular (American) style or brand of Christmas. It is also personally interesting because listening to this record every year in the 1970s and early 1980s I had no idea that I would become such an avid listener of the Voice of America, visit its headquarters in Washington DC, and write a PhD and book about this remarkable radio station.
I would be interested to know from my historian readers if they have come across any information about this annual broadcast during their research. In the meantime, I wish you all a wonderful Christmas and a peaceful 2013.
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