PROPAGANDA

In an October 4, 1988, article, the Boston Globe revealed that the dean of Boston University, H. Joachim Maitre, had been dabbling in activities that he now calls "part of a CIA-inspired domestic propaganda campaign run out ofthe National Security Council."

Specifically, the diligent dean involved himself and his college in a project to train Afghan resistance fighters as journalists (a program later discontinued and described as potentially unethical by journalists and journalism educators), and to produce a favorable documentary on the Nicaraguan contras. Maitre himself gave briefings to Congressional aides on Nicaragua while receiving money from the contra-support network.

Maitre's work on behalf of the contras was funded by International Business Communications, a PR firm owned by Richard Miller and The National Endowment for the Preservation of Liberty. Says the now contrite academic: "I was enchanted by the possibility of doing something beyond the limited political environment in Boston at the time."

Hannah Silver

Like a lot of things, propaganda often starts innocently enough. In many cases, it's for a good cause, something everyone can agree with, so what's wrong with that?

Case in point: the Harvard Alcohol Project, a public service activity of the Harvard School of Public Health, and its media campaign for "designated drivers"--people who will take responsibility for staying sober while out drinking and partying with friends. New York Times reporter Randall Rothenberg called the campaign a way that "the communications industry can use its considerable powers of persuasion for laudable goals." Any objections?

Well, yes...or at least a few raised eyebrows...because this time the media campaign is not just the production of public service announcements but the "planting" of dialogue in the scripts of entertainment-oriented TV shows. Virtually everyone favors the designated driver concept. It's an idea that could save hundreds, maybe even thousands, of lives annually.

And it's not the first time that entertainment programming has been consciously used to promote good causes. Last year, several prime-time series and daytime soaps incorporated plots dealing with the problem of adult illiteracy as a part of an overall public service campaign sponsored by ABC and PBS.

Defending the designated driver campaign against the charge of "social engineering," former NBC chair Grant Tinker made the case quite clearly: "There's a tune-out thing that occurs when a public service spot appears. If a message is in the body of a program coming from the mouth of a character you like and pay attention to, it can really have a tangible result."

True enough...but didn't we just have eight years of that?

Frederic Stout

This year's annual meeting of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank brought 12,000 officials and 1600 journalists from all over the world to Berlin, West Germany. Ten thousand West German police officers were on hand to protect the visitors from potential attacks by protestors who claimed that the policies of the two institutions were responsible for the impoverishment and starvation of millions of people in Third World countries. Yet another valuable item also was to be protected: the image of Berlin as a hospitable, peaceful, and politically calm site for major conferences.

On September 27, 1988, more than two dozen journalists, TV crews and press photographers attending an anti-IMF demonstration of some 40,000 people were encircled by police and prevented from reporting on the event; some were actually beaten and equipment was destroyed. Official protests were issued immediately by the affected journalists as well as the chief editors of three news agencies dpa, Reuters, and Associated Press. They all agreed that the event had not been a single incident but part of a general policy with "the apparent aim of preventing the reporting of actions by opponents of the IMF/World Bank policies." The declarations were directed not only to the West Berlin Senate but also to the governments of the USA, Great Britain, and France which, by way of the Allied Control Status of Berlin, have direct control and supervision of the West Berlin police.

Backed by the chief of police, a West Berlin Senator for Interior Affairs finally resorted to an official complaint to the German Press Council about false reporting and massive hindrance of police by journalists. Their alleged offense: photographing and filming.

from Propaganda Review, December, 1991