One of the highlights of this year's Ilkley Literature Festival was John Suchet discussing his new biography of Beethoven (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Beethoven-John-Suchet/dp/190764279X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1353670265&sr=1-1). John Suchet is a journalist, news-reader, a presenter on Classic FM and acclaimed Beethoven scholar, having written six books about his favourite composer.
During his talk in Ilkley, John briefly discussed the ways that Beethoven had not only touched, but had saved people's lives. I am sure he is aware that the opening four notes of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony match the morse code for the letter 'V'. So it is understandable that, in the final days of World War Two, British radio broadcasts used these musical notes to reassure those in Europe living under Nazi occupation that victory was at hand, and members of the resistance movement began to paint the letter 'V' on walls throughout France, Belgium and the Netherlands. Beethoven was a major contributor in the psychological war.
In August 1991, the General Secretary of the Soviet Communist Party, Mikhail Gorbachev, was the victim of a brief and unsuccessful coup d'etat (the August Putsch or August Coup). The leaders of this putsch were hardline members of the Communist Party who opposed Gorbachev's programme of reform and liberalisation (Perestroika and Glasnost, two buzzwords that became familiar in the late 1980s). The coup collapsed after only two days and Gorbachev returned to the government.
As a shortwave radio fanatic and student of politics I monitored Radio Moscow World Service (RMWS) throughout the coup. In those days the station was not difficult to find: RMWS broadcast on all shortwave bandwidths and the number of frequencies it used outnumbered any other radio station. The station's identification which sounded before the news at the top of the hour was very familiar: the chimes of the Kremlin, followed by Midnight in Moscow and an announcer with a pseudo-American announcer reminding us that we were listening to Radio Moscow World Service.
(This is a RMWS programme schedule. I actually received on of these in return for sending them a reception report)
On 19 August 1991, the tone and content of programming changed, and broadcasts contained far less news and more silences and music. One piece of music that the station repeated over and over convinced me that RMWS was broadcasting a signal to its listeners - the coup would not succeed. That piece of music was Beethoven's Fifth Symphony with, in its opening bars, the distinctive morse code 'V' for victory. This was not the only signal. Those of us who obsessed about international radio broadcasting knew intimately the idiosyncrasies of each station. One unique characteristic of RMWS was that it only played music written by Russian composers, yet here it was at this dramatic and historic time playing the most famous work written by a German.
Of course it may all have been coincidental, the imaginings of a young mind convinced that shortwave radio broadcasts could and did play an important role in politics and international affairs (I was just starting my PhD research on this very topic). Yet I like to think that Radio Moscow World Service had made a conscious and strategic decision on that day - to use its power as a broadcaster to bypass the coup leaders and send a message to its listeners around the world: the coup will not succeed; everything is ok, and in the end it was - the putsch was defeated by popular resistance led by future Russian President, Boris Yeltsin, and by the disarray among the conspirators themselves. I also like to think that Beethoven played a small and significant role in the end of the coup and in the the dissolution of the Soviet Union as 1991 came to an end.
Thoughts and comments about public diplomacy, soft power and international communications by Gary Rawnsley.
Showing posts with label radio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label radio. Show all posts
Friday, 23 November 2012
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
China's soft power - an interview with China Radio International
Just before Christmas I was interviewed by China Radio International about China's soft power. You can listen to the interview here:
http://english.cri.cn/7146/2011/12/31/1942s674081.htm
I am very pleased that they broadcast most of what I said, even the more critical parts. This is an honour for me as I remember as a young teenager listening regularly to Radio China International on my Vega Selena 215 shortwave radio.
http://english.cri.cn/7146/2011/12/31/1942s674081.htm
I am very pleased that they broadcast most of what I said, even the more critical parts. This is an honour for me as I remember as a young teenager listening regularly to Radio China International on my Vega Selena 215 shortwave radio.
Saturday, 13 August 2011
Despatches from Taiwan 3
I recently visited the Chiang Ching-kuo memorial in Daxi, in Taoyuan county. An exhibition of the former President's role in "counter-insurgency" against the "rebel" regime on the Chinese mainland reminded me of my visit in 2010 to Jinmen. Jinmen is an island that belongs to Taiwan but is actually geographically closer to the PRC. It was the site of fierce battles in the 1950s when thousands of Chinese from both sides of the Taiwan Strait lost their lives. It then became the centre of Taiwan's propaganda efforts towards the mainland, being the home of several large signs painted on the cliffs shouting political slogans at the mainland, and huge speakers from which similar propaganda messages were blast across the water. From Jinmen, Taiwan shelled the PRC and the Communist forces shelled Taiwan in turn. In later years, the shells contained nothing more harmful than propaganda leaflets, and the militaries on opposing sides reached a strange consensus that they would timetable their shelling on alternate days of the week. Propaganda by a gentleman's agreement.
Most interesting for this 'shortwave radio nut' during his visit to Jinmen was the Ma Shan broadcasting station. Although I could not enter, exhibitions in Jinmen and at the Chiang Ching-kuo mausoleum recounted the role that broadcasting has played in the propaganda war between Taiwan and China.
Taiwan's propagandists take great pride in their confidence that broadcasts found a significant audience within the PRC despite severe punishment if they were caught listening. They claim that listeners wrote to Taiwan's main radio station, the Central Broadcasting Station (CBS), using "hidden messages". This 'refers to the use of a special ink needed for conveying what listeners actually had in mind on paper'. What this special ink was, how it worked and, most importantly, how the Chinese audience obtained it, needs further investigation. What is most interesting about the exhibition is that it admits CBS was involved in 'psychological warfare'; its main audience were Chinese pilots, and CBS broadcast programmes designed to encourage Chinese pilots to defect. While programmes such as 'Three Family Village Nighttime Talk' may have had some impact, more significant perhaps were the financial rewards the pilots were told by the broadcasts they would receive after their defection.
However, the most successful element of this psychological warfare was a singer, Deng Lijun (Teresa Deng). Extremely popular in Taiwan and Japan in the 1970s, Teresa Deng regularly broadcast to the PRC from the Ma Shan broadcasting station on Jinmen in the 1980s. Although her music was considered 'decadent' and 'bourgois' and was banned in China, her broadcasts found a huge audience. This was confirmed when a Chinese airforce pilot defected, claiming that he wanted to meet the singer - which of course found its way back into the propaganda, confirming how propaganda often feeds on itself. It also confirms that the best propaganda is often based on entertainment that has no political content whatsoever; recall the popularity, and therefore importance in Eastern Europe of Willis Conover's apolitical Jazz Hour broadcast by VoA during the Cold War. Teresa Deng's rendition of ballads and Chinese folk songs encouraged a sense of nostalgia among listeners and perhaps reminded the Chinese on both sides of the Taiwan strait of what united, rather than separated them.
It was often said that Big Deng (Deng Xiaoping) ruled China during the day, but Little Deng (Teresa Deng) ruled China at night when he broadcasts could be heard. It is with a hint of irony that the Communist Party of China invited her to perform on the mainland in the 1990s, but she never had the opportunity.
In 1995, Teresa Deng died from asthma tragically young at the age of 42. In 2010 I visted her mountainside tomb in Jinshan in northern Taiwan. The site features a statue of Teresa and a large electronic piano keyboard set in the ground that can be played by visitors who step on the keys. Her music broadcasts continiously. It is Taiwan's Graceland.
I have become extremely interested in Teresa Deng, and I sincerely hope to supervise a PhD about her work as a propagandist. I hope someone who is bilingual in English and Chinese and is thinking about doctoral research might read this and get in touch ...
PS.
I asked some well informed colleagues in Taiwan - I shall say no more - about claims I saw in Jinmen that balloons carrying propaganda from the island had floated deep (and I mean deep) into the PRC. I found these claims a little exaggerated; could the balloons float so far inland? After all, the balloons that were used to carry propaganda over the iron curtain or from South to North Korea (which is still happening) had little distance to travel. The PRC, as we know, is huge. My 'friends in the know' tried to convince me that (a) the distance travelled depends on the type of balloon; and (b) they know they did travel so far inland because they were recovered by pro-Taiwan resistance fighters in the mainland. I am still very sceptical and look forward to investigating further.
Most interesting for this 'shortwave radio nut' during his visit to Jinmen was the Ma Shan broadcasting station. Although I could not enter, exhibitions in Jinmen and at the Chiang Ching-kuo mausoleum recounted the role that broadcasting has played in the propaganda war between Taiwan and China.
Taiwan's propagandists take great pride in their confidence that broadcasts found a significant audience within the PRC despite severe punishment if they were caught listening. They claim that listeners wrote to Taiwan's main radio station, the Central Broadcasting Station (CBS), using "hidden messages". This 'refers to the use of a special ink needed for conveying what listeners actually had in mind on paper'. What this special ink was, how it worked and, most importantly, how the Chinese audience obtained it, needs further investigation. What is most interesting about the exhibition is that it admits CBS was involved in 'psychological warfare'; its main audience were Chinese pilots, and CBS broadcast programmes designed to encourage Chinese pilots to defect. While programmes such as 'Three Family Village Nighttime Talk' may have had some impact, more significant perhaps were the financial rewards the pilots were told by the broadcasts they would receive after their defection.
However, the most successful element of this psychological warfare was a singer, Deng Lijun (Teresa Deng). Extremely popular in Taiwan and Japan in the 1970s, Teresa Deng regularly broadcast to the PRC from the Ma Shan broadcasting station on Jinmen in the 1980s. Although her music was considered 'decadent' and 'bourgois' and was banned in China, her broadcasts found a huge audience. This was confirmed when a Chinese airforce pilot defected, claiming that he wanted to meet the singer - which of course found its way back into the propaganda, confirming how propaganda often feeds on itself. It also confirms that the best propaganda is often based on entertainment that has no political content whatsoever; recall the popularity, and therefore importance in Eastern Europe of Willis Conover's apolitical Jazz Hour broadcast by VoA during the Cold War. Teresa Deng's rendition of ballads and Chinese folk songs encouraged a sense of nostalgia among listeners and perhaps reminded the Chinese on both sides of the Taiwan strait of what united, rather than separated them.
It was often said that Big Deng (Deng Xiaoping) ruled China during the day, but Little Deng (Teresa Deng) ruled China at night when he broadcasts could be heard. It is with a hint of irony that the Communist Party of China invited her to perform on the mainland in the 1990s, but she never had the opportunity.
In 1995, Teresa Deng died from asthma tragically young at the age of 42. In 2010 I visted her mountainside tomb in Jinshan in northern Taiwan. The site features a statue of Teresa and a large electronic piano keyboard set in the ground that can be played by visitors who step on the keys. Her music broadcasts continiously. It is Taiwan's Graceland.
I have become extremely interested in Teresa Deng, and I sincerely hope to supervise a PhD about her work as a propagandist. I hope someone who is bilingual in English and Chinese and is thinking about doctoral research might read this and get in touch ...
PS.
I asked some well informed colleagues in Taiwan - I shall say no more - about claims I saw in Jinmen that balloons carrying propaganda from the island had floated deep (and I mean deep) into the PRC. I found these claims a little exaggerated; could the balloons float so far inland? After all, the balloons that were used to carry propaganda over the iron curtain or from South to North Korea (which is still happening) had little distance to travel. The PRC, as we know, is huge. My 'friends in the know' tried to convince me that (a) the distance travelled depends on the type of balloon; and (b) they know they did travel so far inland because they were recovered by pro-Taiwan resistance fighters in the mainland. I am still very sceptical and look forward to investigating further.
Saturday, 16 April 2011
Old Media, New Media
I was drawn to two articles in the Guardian today. The first is an excellent interview by Polly Toynbee with Aung San Suu Kyi (http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/apr/16/interview-aung-san-suu-kyi-polly-toynbee). Toynbee describes how Aung San 'has just learned of mutinies in army bases [in Burma] from the BBC World Service, a lifeline when information is so hard to come by. She is relieved the BBC's Burma service has been saved from British government cuts, "puzzled" at the decision to cut the Chinese service. After 70 years, the BBC's last Mandarin programmes for China have just been broadcast.'
Aung San Suu Kyi is not the only one who is 'puzzled' by this decision as China scholars and activists will testify. The British government claims that fewer Chinese are listening to the BBC and are preferring to access news and information from the internet. However, it is far too naive to base decisions that affect 1.4 billion people, many of whom live in poverty, are uneducated and reside in areas where internet access is difficult (not to mention the problem that users who are not technologically sophisticated face in breaching the 'Great Firewall') on such a questionable assumption. Besides, what happens when the Chinese decide to limit or completely stop access to the internet in areas or situations experiencing serious unrest? To whom will people turn for information and news if the BBC and VoA have ceased broadcasting in Mandarin?
One can begin to appreciate the force of the arguments proposed by Evgeny Morozov in his provocative book, The Net Delusion in which he suggests not only the folly of Net optimists who believe that the internet will liberate mankind, but also the way that governments, like Star Trek's Borg, adapt to new communications environments and technologies - assimilate them, if you will - for their own advantage.
This is demonstrated in another Guardian article which reports the activities of 'cyber activists' in Syria (http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/apr/15/syria-activists-protests-in-view). One activist who spreads news and information on social media 'receives regular death threats on his Facebook and Twitter accounts from what he believes are Syrian security agents'. After his sister was arrested, Syrian security posted a message on his wall: "You have until midnight tonight to announce your withdrawal from the Syrian revolution or we will get her." And yet the cyber-activists in Syria remain committed to the cause and to the importance of using the social media (incuding Youtube) to share information.
This leads me to a conclusion that is neither original nor surprising, but perhaps too simple for some governments in this age of austerity to understand: isn't there room and need for both old and new media? The new media represents a new-style of activism, mobilisation and method of P2P communication; but old broadcasting media are also required. The BBC Mandarin Service has built over decades a reputation among its audience for accuracy and credibility, and there is a clear relationship based on trust between broadcaster and audience (public diplomacy is all about relationships, after all). To abandon such relationships in the mistaken belief that they are antiquated and no longer required in order to save money is a mistake. Both the Foreign Office and USIA throughout their histories have believed they could turn language services on and off like a tap, only to find that when they are needed again, it is not that easy to rebuild audiences and reputations.
Perhaps when Aung San Suu Kyi speaks on such issues, the British and American governments would do well to listen.
Aung San Suu Kyi is not the only one who is 'puzzled' by this decision as China scholars and activists will testify. The British government claims that fewer Chinese are listening to the BBC and are preferring to access news and information from the internet. However, it is far too naive to base decisions that affect 1.4 billion people, many of whom live in poverty, are uneducated and reside in areas where internet access is difficult (not to mention the problem that users who are not technologically sophisticated face in breaching the 'Great Firewall') on such a questionable assumption. Besides, what happens when the Chinese decide to limit or completely stop access to the internet in areas or situations experiencing serious unrest? To whom will people turn for information and news if the BBC and VoA have ceased broadcasting in Mandarin?
One can begin to appreciate the force of the arguments proposed by Evgeny Morozov in his provocative book, The Net Delusion in which he suggests not only the folly of Net optimists who believe that the internet will liberate mankind, but also the way that governments, like Star Trek's Borg, adapt to new communications environments and technologies - assimilate them, if you will - for their own advantage.
This is demonstrated in another Guardian article which reports the activities of 'cyber activists' in Syria (http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/apr/15/syria-activists-protests-in-view). One activist who spreads news and information on social media 'receives regular death threats on his Facebook and Twitter accounts from what he believes are Syrian security agents'. After his sister was arrested, Syrian security posted a message on his wall: "You have until midnight tonight to announce your withdrawal from the Syrian revolution or we will get her." And yet the cyber-activists in Syria remain committed to the cause and to the importance of using the social media (incuding Youtube) to share information.
This leads me to a conclusion that is neither original nor surprising, but perhaps too simple for some governments in this age of austerity to understand: isn't there room and need for both old and new media? The new media represents a new-style of activism, mobilisation and method of P2P communication; but old broadcasting media are also required. The BBC Mandarin Service has built over decades a reputation among its audience for accuracy and credibility, and there is a clear relationship based on trust between broadcaster and audience (public diplomacy is all about relationships, after all). To abandon such relationships in the mistaken belief that they are antiquated and no longer required in order to save money is a mistake. Both the Foreign Office and USIA throughout their histories have believed they could turn language services on and off like a tap, only to find that when they are needed again, it is not that easy to rebuild audiences and reputations.
Perhaps when Aung San Suu Kyi speaks on such issues, the British and American governments would do well to listen.
Friday, 1 April 2011
The Summaries of World Broadcasts: A Unique Archive
I am so happy I found this article that I published in History Today magazine in 1993. I had been using the Summaries of World Broadcasts, housed at the BBC Written Archive Centre, for my PhD research and discovered they are a wonderful source of information and insight for the contemporary historian. Given the importance of understanding the role of all source analysis in the construction of modern foreign policy, including public diplomacy, the SWBs continue to have significant relevance.
A unique archive
by Gary Rawnsley
As historians we are taught that secondary sources are useful for our research, but on their own are not enough, and so we must turn to first-hand accounts and primary sources to provide the substance of our investigations. For most this involves frequent visits to the Public Records Office at Kew, and this is usually considered sufficient. However there are other less well-known archives which few consult, but which can effectively complement the PRO. One example is the BBC Written Archives Centre at Caversham Park, near Reading. Contrary to popular academic belief this is of use not only to scholars of the BBC but to anyone engaged in researching the post-second World War period of international history, since the Written Archives Centre is the home of the Summaries of World Broadcasts (SWBs), a rich depository of historical information.
The SWBs are a daily digest of foreign radio broadcasts (in the age of satellite, television is now also included) as received and collated by the nearby BBC Monitoring Service. They are divided into four parts to cover the principal geographical areas of the world, and each is supplemented weekly by a detailed economic report. They are then sold to 'customers', ranging from government departments and university libraries to interested companies and individuals.
Despite being established at the beginning of the Second World War, the BBC Monitoring Service came of age during the Gulf crisis of 1990-91. Recognised as the single comprehensive source of news and intelligence on what was happening inside Iraq, it finally achieved the worldwide fame it has long deserved. As a result, scholars of both the history of that crisis, and the role of the media in it, are beginning to use the SWBs to supplement and augment their analyses. One notable example is Philip M. Taylor in War and the Media (Manchester University Press, 1992). Taylor represents a new generation of political and diplomatic historians who accept that communication has assumed a dominant role in the conduct of international relations and thus interprets the events that have shaped global history over the past fifty years from a new perspective and understanding.
The value of the SWBs is heightened by the fact that they provide the government and the Foreign Office with a regular flow of information, particularly when traditional channels have been severed. This does not, of course, negate the important work conducted by diplomatic personnel stationed overseas which the Monitoring Service complements. In crisis situations, however, diplomatic relations are often cut off and legations are closed. In such circumstances the Monitoring Service can be the only source of news and information which is derived from both international broadcasting stations (often transmitted in the knowledge that they will be monitored and reported) and domestic transmissions (providing more substantial information and less propaganda, since they are intended to be received by the home audience only).
In 1993 historians have turned their focus towards the events of thirty years ago as revealed by the newly-opened government records at Kew. Research now underway will no doubt spawn many excellent historical studies of, for example, the event that dominated 1962 -- the Cuban Missile Crisis -- which will disclose much of interest that has never before been known. But the crisis also provides excellent opportunity to demonstrate how the official record can be supplemented by the picture of events as treated by the media of the time. Indeed, the Missile Crisis is a dramatic testament to the diplomatic importance attached to both international radio communication and the Monitoring Service.
At the height of the crisis, Khrushchev sent two messages to President Kennedy offering a resolution. The first, ignored by Kennedy, was sent via traditional channels and thus experienced a long delay in its transmission from the US embassy in Moscow. The SWBs show how Khrushchev surmounted this problem by relaying his second message over Radio Moscow, guaranteeing that American demands would be complied with. He did this, fully aware that at such a critical moment when time was precious, this message would be monitored and reported long before official diplomatic communiques reached the White House. Kennedy replied using the same method and for the same reason. In this way international broadcasting had undertaken a significant role, in defusing the most threat to the Cold War status quo.
What is most interesting, however, is that through a detailed reading of the monitoring reports for the period, historians can trace the events of the crisis from a new angle. What Radio Moscow had to say about American allegations of Russian missiles in Cuba, for example, reveals the lengths to which the Soviet Union was prepared to go to deny their presence. Often more significant is what was not said, and what this indicated in terms of a Soviet political response. Then, when Moscow finally acknowledged the presence of the missiles in Cuba, the SWBs suggest how they would be justified.
Most frightening, of course, are the threats of nuclear confrontation that litter the broadcasts. Notwithstanding the problem of ascertaining the credibility of such threats, a young researcher examining the events from a post-Cold War vantage point can understand just how close the world came to witnessing nuclear confrontation. The crisis can then be examined in its international context. At a time when Sino-Soviet relations were beginning to deteriorate, how did China respond to the Cuban Missile Crisis? And how did Cuba itself react to being used as a mere pawn in a superpower game of global chess? The SWBs show how Khrushchev was hailed as a hero by some, a reckless adventurer by others, and a capitulator by Castro. Moreover, how aware were the rest of the world of just how close the superpowers came to unleashing nuclear war? How did the media reflect this concern? Analysing the SWBs goes some way towards providing answers to these and similar questions.
Unlike government documents housed in overseas archives the SWBs are written in the English language, which can be useful to the researcher. However, critics may be concerned as to the accuracy of the translations and the fact that, as many languages are so precise, with the very tone of a spoken phrase having its own unique nuance, such translations are not reliable. There is no doubt that the monitors who work at Caversham, and the compilers of the SWBs, are aware of this potential problem but are skilful enough to cope; many of the monitors are, after all, working in their first language.
Historical research, however, does not have to be confined to the events of thirty years ago. Through the SWBs we can begin to piece together the jigsaw of the momentous changes that have occurred in Eastern Europe; broadcasts received at Caversham signalled both the downfall of the Ceausescu regime in Romania and the coup against Mikhail Gorbachev in the autumn of 1991. For the latter a reading of the SWBs provides not only a detailed chronological account of the coup itself, but also confirmation that it was destined to fail. This is suggested by the way the format of broadcasts from Radio Moscow changed over the period. For example, while the first twelve hours of the coup were inevitably occupied by decrees and statements issued by the so-called State Emergency Committee, and sombre material music evoking memories of the succession of deaths of Soviet leaders in the early 1980s, in the evening the news reader allowed herself to lapse from the usual strict and formal style adopted by presenters to announce at such a critical juncture in the nation's history: 'And that is the end of the news from the World Service of Radio Moscow on this beautiful summer's evening.' By the second day, reports had restored a level of balance, including coverage of the resistance by ordinary Russians to the coup, the actions and statements of Boris Yeltsin, and condemnation of the events by John Major and George Bush. This is most significant when one recalls that the media had theoretically been placed under the control of an 'especially created central body'.
The BBC Monitoring Service is currently collating volumes of invaluable information concerning the ongoing conflict in the former Yugoslavia. Moreover the fragmentary evidence made available by the SWBs as a series, allows the end of the Cold War and the shaping of the New World Order to be surveyed and, in turn, suggests where our political focus may shift in the near future. The basis for this speculation would not be simply prediction, but an academic interpretation and analysis of the world's media; they are the first to report events and situations, often without knowledge of their import or significance. The historians of the future will no doubt benefit from the progress made today towards such ends.
It is time then that more historians began to delve into this unique source of information. It is no less valuable than more traditional sources, and offers exciting new research possibilities. In isolation the Summaries of World Broadcasts present an opportunity to study individual situations from the viewpoints of the main participants and a chance to see how the media reflects the political responses to world events. Together the Summaries are an indication of the growing importance attached to the media in the political life of the planet.
A unique archive
by Gary Rawnsley
As historians we are taught that secondary sources are useful for our research, but on their own are not enough, and so we must turn to first-hand accounts and primary sources to provide the substance of our investigations. For most this involves frequent visits to the Public Records Office at Kew, and this is usually considered sufficient. However there are other less well-known archives which few consult, but which can effectively complement the PRO. One example is the BBC Written Archives Centre at Caversham Park, near Reading. Contrary to popular academic belief this is of use not only to scholars of the BBC but to anyone engaged in researching the post-second World War period of international history, since the Written Archives Centre is the home of the Summaries of World Broadcasts (SWBs), a rich depository of historical information.
The SWBs are a daily digest of foreign radio broadcasts (in the age of satellite, television is now also included) as received and collated by the nearby BBC Monitoring Service. They are divided into four parts to cover the principal geographical areas of the world, and each is supplemented weekly by a detailed economic report. They are then sold to 'customers', ranging from government departments and university libraries to interested companies and individuals.
Despite being established at the beginning of the Second World War, the BBC Monitoring Service came of age during the Gulf crisis of 1990-91. Recognised as the single comprehensive source of news and intelligence on what was happening inside Iraq, it finally achieved the worldwide fame it has long deserved. As a result, scholars of both the history of that crisis, and the role of the media in it, are beginning to use the SWBs to supplement and augment their analyses. One notable example is Philip M. Taylor in War and the Media (Manchester University Press, 1992). Taylor represents a new generation of political and diplomatic historians who accept that communication has assumed a dominant role in the conduct of international relations and thus interprets the events that have shaped global history over the past fifty years from a new perspective and understanding.
The value of the SWBs is heightened by the fact that they provide the government and the Foreign Office with a regular flow of information, particularly when traditional channels have been severed. This does not, of course, negate the important work conducted by diplomatic personnel stationed overseas which the Monitoring Service complements. In crisis situations, however, diplomatic relations are often cut off and legations are closed. In such circumstances the Monitoring Service can be the only source of news and information which is derived from both international broadcasting stations (often transmitted in the knowledge that they will be monitored and reported) and domestic transmissions (providing more substantial information and less propaganda, since they are intended to be received by the home audience only).
In 1993 historians have turned their focus towards the events of thirty years ago as revealed by the newly-opened government records at Kew. Research now underway will no doubt spawn many excellent historical studies of, for example, the event that dominated 1962 -- the Cuban Missile Crisis -- which will disclose much of interest that has never before been known. But the crisis also provides excellent opportunity to demonstrate how the official record can be supplemented by the picture of events as treated by the media of the time. Indeed, the Missile Crisis is a dramatic testament to the diplomatic importance attached to both international radio communication and the Monitoring Service.
At the height of the crisis, Khrushchev sent two messages to President Kennedy offering a resolution. The first, ignored by Kennedy, was sent via traditional channels and thus experienced a long delay in its transmission from the US embassy in Moscow. The SWBs show how Khrushchev surmounted this problem by relaying his second message over Radio Moscow, guaranteeing that American demands would be complied with. He did this, fully aware that at such a critical moment when time was precious, this message would be monitored and reported long before official diplomatic communiques reached the White House. Kennedy replied using the same method and for the same reason. In this way international broadcasting had undertaken a significant role, in defusing the most threat to the Cold War status quo.
What is most interesting, however, is that through a detailed reading of the monitoring reports for the period, historians can trace the events of the crisis from a new angle. What Radio Moscow had to say about American allegations of Russian missiles in Cuba, for example, reveals the lengths to which the Soviet Union was prepared to go to deny their presence. Often more significant is what was not said, and what this indicated in terms of a Soviet political response. Then, when Moscow finally acknowledged the presence of the missiles in Cuba, the SWBs suggest how they would be justified.
Most frightening, of course, are the threats of nuclear confrontation that litter the broadcasts. Notwithstanding the problem of ascertaining the credibility of such threats, a young researcher examining the events from a post-Cold War vantage point can understand just how close the world came to witnessing nuclear confrontation. The crisis can then be examined in its international context. At a time when Sino-Soviet relations were beginning to deteriorate, how did China respond to the Cuban Missile Crisis? And how did Cuba itself react to being used as a mere pawn in a superpower game of global chess? The SWBs show how Khrushchev was hailed as a hero by some, a reckless adventurer by others, and a capitulator by Castro. Moreover, how aware were the rest of the world of just how close the superpowers came to unleashing nuclear war? How did the media reflect this concern? Analysing the SWBs goes some way towards providing answers to these and similar questions.
Unlike government documents housed in overseas archives the SWBs are written in the English language, which can be useful to the researcher. However, critics may be concerned as to the accuracy of the translations and the fact that, as many languages are so precise, with the very tone of a spoken phrase having its own unique nuance, such translations are not reliable. There is no doubt that the monitors who work at Caversham, and the compilers of the SWBs, are aware of this potential problem but are skilful enough to cope; many of the monitors are, after all, working in their first language.
Historical research, however, does not have to be confined to the events of thirty years ago. Through the SWBs we can begin to piece together the jigsaw of the momentous changes that have occurred in Eastern Europe; broadcasts received at Caversham signalled both the downfall of the Ceausescu regime in Romania and the coup against Mikhail Gorbachev in the autumn of 1991. For the latter a reading of the SWBs provides not only a detailed chronological account of the coup itself, but also confirmation that it was destined to fail. This is suggested by the way the format of broadcasts from Radio Moscow changed over the period. For example, while the first twelve hours of the coup were inevitably occupied by decrees and statements issued by the so-called State Emergency Committee, and sombre material music evoking memories of the succession of deaths of Soviet leaders in the early 1980s, in the evening the news reader allowed herself to lapse from the usual strict and formal style adopted by presenters to announce at such a critical juncture in the nation's history: 'And that is the end of the news from the World Service of Radio Moscow on this beautiful summer's evening.' By the second day, reports had restored a level of balance, including coverage of the resistance by ordinary Russians to the coup, the actions and statements of Boris Yeltsin, and condemnation of the events by John Major and George Bush. This is most significant when one recalls that the media had theoretically been placed under the control of an 'especially created central body'.
The BBC Monitoring Service is currently collating volumes of invaluable information concerning the ongoing conflict in the former Yugoslavia. Moreover the fragmentary evidence made available by the SWBs as a series, allows the end of the Cold War and the shaping of the New World Order to be surveyed and, in turn, suggests where our political focus may shift in the near future. The basis for this speculation would not be simply prediction, but an academic interpretation and analysis of the world's media; they are the first to report events and situations, often without knowledge of their import or significance. The historians of the future will no doubt benefit from the progress made today towards such ends.
It is time then that more historians began to delve into this unique source of information. It is no less valuable than more traditional sources, and offers exciting new research possibilities. In isolation the Summaries of World Broadcasts present an opportunity to study individual situations from the viewpoints of the main participants and a chance to see how the media reflects the political responses to world events. Together the Summaries are an indication of the growing importance attached to the media in the political life of the planet.
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