She stood at the edge of the abyss, the blinding darkness engulfing her, enticing her. It would be easy to let go, to wither away and join him. Her arms felt numb, and her powerful legs were weak. Violent tremors traveled up and down her body. A small compelling hand, wet with tears, tugged on her arm. “What will we do now?” a quavering voice whispered. She opened her eyes. The sky was a cerulean blue, and the blazing sun was beating on her torn straw hat, casting a slender shadow on the spring green rice fields. Her rapid heart was calmed by a wind that caressed her cheek. To her dead husband, to her children, to Vietnam, she dropped the condolence letter, and with her feet firmly planted on the ground, said, “We will live.”

To say it was easy is an understatement. Raising five kids as a single mother, in a country where women are expected to be docile, seemed infeasible. “I was taught at a young age that men were the head of the household, they were the heroes of the family,” Diep Ngo, aged 80, recalls sadly, her eyes distant. “I felt helpless. My brothers were charting new paths, while I was still, unable to move.” With a suppressed sob, Ngo recounts that at the twilight hour, she would drown with dark thoughts, but every morning when the sun rose, they would be vanquished. The roosters were the reveille that awakened her slumber, her empty stomach was the battle cry, and the last words of hope from her departed beloved, the mantra that carried her on. 

The war took its toll on the civilians of Vietnam; it was a disease that plagued families with deaths and injuries. Young girls were jailbirds, kept busy looking after their younger siblings, torn rags their striped attire and restrictions the bars of their prison. Dreams were locked away, replaced by the basic needs crucial to survival. Even so, when asked if she would take part in the war that claimed her husband, Ngo, her mouth in a straight line and her eyes ablaze, adamantly nodded. Raising both arms until her fists were level with her head, she mustered a grimace. Her nose crinkled and teeth bared, but her eyes sparkled with humor. “Do you think anyone would’ve thought twice about taking me on?”

Scraping bits and pieces of broken memories from her childhood, Ngo recalls that the only freedom she truly had was that from the pressures of education. “I never did well in school. Women were not expected to accomplish anything, so it was highly unusual for a women to achieve higher education.” Now, it seems clear that this supposed freedom transformed itself into another burden upon her shoulders, for she had to take on menial tasks when drafted into the position of “man.” For the first time in her life, she left the cage built by the patriarchal society and refused wealthy suitors. “They were bloated with pride… I would never submit to any man like that.” Ngo was ridiculed by her neighbors as a result, but she felt a strange sensation, absent from her life ever since the fateful, disappointed sigh that accompanied the doctor declaring her gender 80 years ago: the jewel of independence.

“As their father was gone, I had to step into the role of the provider. Oh, what a burden it was, but the power and purpose it gave me fueled the sleepless nights.”

Before the age of 30, her long, black hair turned a platinum gray, and impending wrinkles scarred her face as the war robbed her of youth. A moment to weep or reconcile with memories of loved ones was lost in the present.

“Losing my husband was truly hard, but myself, and other women of Vietnam, had to choke back grief and look to the future,” she remarked. Leaving the house militarily before the sun rose and coming back well after the crescent moon silently loomed in the sky, the only thing Ngo regrets is not spending as much time with her children. But, what she had to do was necessary, as every day was a battle. Even so, how could she explain to them the rough calluses on her hands, which toiled tirelessly, tending the infested wounds left after the hungry bullets pierced the heart of Vietnam? How could she explain yet another outline of a large palm on her red cheek, this time from an angry customer, unsatisfied by the knee-length trousers she had spent all night mending?

Through it all, she remained an eternal warrior, whose struggles rivaled those of men fighting raging wars. Diep Ngo battled gender inequality and injustice, all while leading her family through desperate times. An old poem by Xuân Diệu filled her thoughts as America, the land of rebirth and opportunities, slowly emerged on the horizon: “Your feet have hardly tread round this way… Open your arms to clasp the spring, then from your hand let there be light” (translated by Thomas D. Le). And for the first time since her husband’s death, she welcomed the moist tears, for the valiant soldier’s burden had been lifted. Her dauntless mission was complete. 

I’m forever grateful for her valiant decision to bypass social stereotypes and become a sort-of soldier, leading her family to survival, to new opportunities, to an education, to happiness, to America. It’s a natural, humane feeling that is respectful of the wisdom, the strength, and the sacrifices of the old. Every evening, after the tiring cycle of school, I retreat back into my place of comfort: my grandmother’s arms, and for the past 17 years, her past life was but a false, beautiful painting, rid of pain and hardships and suffering. That one night, under a blanket of softly twinkling stars, I retraced her hands, touching them, caressing them, tracing her old, calloused, scarred fingers and her bulging veins, to finally realize the truth: that there was so much I didn’t know about my hero.

Despite the extraordinary details, my story is quite ordinary. It is a story as quintessentially American as Henry Kissinger’s tale of arriving in New York after fleeing Nazi persecution or Madeleine Albright’s experience of seeking political asylum from the Czechoslovakian Communist Party. I was born in a Chicago hospital in the immediate days after my family fled Communist Vietnam on a 35-foot fishing boat. My mom gave me the nick-name “Nam-My,” literally “Vietnam-America” for being her first-American born child. Thus, I was different from the rest of the kids-simply by virtue of being born here. Unlike my siblings, whose early childhood memories consisted of eating plain rice with salt and hiding in underground shelters during bombings, I watched Rainbow Brite and Transformers before going to school every morning, ate Fruit Loops for breakfast, and had a regular supply of FDA-approved whole milk at my disposal- a luxury from the standpoint of my siblings who fled Vietnam with my parents in the early 1980s. My care-free childhood was like any other American kid – roller-skating madly up and down the two blocks outside of my house that made up my entire universe of a playground, playing Slip n’ Slide in my Latino neighborhood, fluent in Spanish slang phrases I did not know the equivalent to in English or Vietnamese, and catching fireflies at night on my porch. My childhood was bright and sunny and I had no idea at that time how different life would have been if it had not been for the heroic but excruciatingly difficult choice of one man out at sea nearly 30 years before: Captain Bell.

Captain Bell was a U.S. Navy captain aboard the USS Morton DD 948, an anti-submarine weapons destroyer ship deployed during the Vietnam War. His life intersected with mine on a warm day 100 miles into the South China Sea on June 9, 1982- the day he decided to defy the Navy’s orders not to pick up Vietnamese refugees. The orders he received to not pick up Vietnamese boat people made perfect sense: such practices would encourage people to continue risking their lives at sea to escape Vietnam. Yet, Captain Bell chose to defy these orders that day and through his single decision, I was born. After Captain Bell brought my family along with the other seventy other boat people to a Filipino refugee camp, my parents spent 8-9 months awaiting relocation to the United States. In the meantime, I must have been conceived because just days after leaving the refugee camp and arriving in the United States, I was born in Chicago without a single glimpse of this stormy chapter in my family’s history.

For as long as I can remember, mom went door-to-door in the freezing Chicago snow to clean homes and dad fixed bikes. Despite growing up in what later became a single parent household of four children with barely enough funds to rent someone’s basement to live in, I had always felt lucky to inherit all of the anecdotal stories my mother recounted of her life back in Vietnam. But just like many first-generation kids from an immigrant family, I struggled to figure out how to truly live up to my family’s expectations. Was I supposed to grow up and open a nail salon as 99% of the Vietnamese did in the United States? Was I supposed to do something more interesting with my life, something that would make my mother’s tumultuous journey here worth it? Should I spend my life fulfilling my filial duties to my family or go off on my own, become a self-made [wo]man and pull myself up by my own bootstraps? The burden of the past weighed heavily on my shoulders and I was desperate to find answers to my questions.

I searched far and near for answers, insight, and clues to unravel the past that I barely understood as a child. At 15 years old, I traveled and lived in Beijing hiking up the Great Wall of China and back down to the Yangtze River in search of any clues that would solve the mysteries of my past. In college, I lived in South Korea and stood at the edge of the demilitarized zone peering into North Korea to catch a glimpse of Communism at its best. Throughout my adventures, my family’s story motivated me to overcome poverty and racial discrimination in Chicago’s inner city, graduate cum laude from Northwestern University, and become the first in my family to attend law school. The stark contrast between my privileged life and that of my relatives left behind in Vietnam motivated me to later work with Vietnamese sex trafficking victims in Taiwan and to attend law school to continuing helping the most vulnerable segments of our society. From conception in a Filipino refugee tent to becoming the first attorney in my entire family lineage, I realize now that I would not be here at all had it not been for Captain Bell’s decision, a decision which altered the trajectory of many lives out at sea that day.

Most recently, this investigative process of piecing together my family history has helped me uncover the most valuable treasure I ever expected to find: Captain Bell himself. A casual internet search led me to discover that Captain Bell is still alive and living in sunny California. I recently emailed him to introduce myself as the product of his heroic decision in 1982. Nearly 28 years later through finding Captain Bell and uncovering more facts about what happened that day out at sea, I am discovering how much of a difference one person can make with even just one decision. My mother took a leap of faith by risking her life and fleeing Vietnam so that she would not have to live in a society without choices. Captain Bell defied orders to save a group of complete strangers in need. Suddenly, I realized that Captain Bell’s rescue story was not just another one of my mother’s Vietnam War stories of the past. Captain Bell was alive and by taking my own leap of faith, I could meet this man who caused my life be possible and now make his story a part of my own.

With only 72 hours left to live, the only conceivable way to spend my time would be with the two superheroes who literally and figuratively opened me the doors of life: my mom and Captain Bell. As a single mother of four-children and a hard-working nurse now in her fifties, my mom spends all day and night taking care of sick people. She deserves the world and has dreamed of visiting the hometown she left behind in North Vietnam in the 1970s. I would book First-class tickets to Vietnam to tour the town she left more than 40 years ago and has not had the time nor funds to return. The best part of this trip would be that it could allow me to spend meaningful time with my mom, writing down the tremendous war stories she’s lived through, using my art skills to draw a life-size portrait of the survivors aboard the USS Morton DD 948 on that day of their rescue, and passing my family history down to the next generation of Vietnamese-Americans. Next, I would give Captain Bell a ring and invite him to travel with me to see Vietnam, which has changed completely from the dark memories he likely remembers from fighting the Viet Cong during the war. I would organize a worldwide reunion for all of the ship-mates, refugees, and families connected to the USS Morton. The seventy Vietnamese boat people Captain Bell saved in 1982 and their children, grandchildren, maybe even great-grandchildren would all be in attendance. Aboard a beautiful ship docked near Vietnam, we would share our war stories, our sea stories, and our dreams for the future as Captain Bell’s rescue story is really simply a variation of the same stories many Americans have been telling for the past two hundred years. Yes, despite all the extraordinary details, my story is simply ordinary. And through my 72-hour trip to Vietnam with my mom and Captain Bell, it would all end the same way it began: complete strangers out at sea connected together by the fragile threads of history.

But what happens when an ideological regime dedicated to negating existing realities to build utopia takes over? A small clique of Cambodian French-educated intellectuals provides the answer by a term coined specifically to describe it: auto-genocide. How else can a regime whose vision caused an estimated 800,000 to 2.3 million “unnatural” deaths among an estimated 5.7 million people within 3.5 years be described?(1)

Before and after April 17, 1975

Building Trust: Independent Cambodia was led by Prince Sihanouk (1941-70), whom the vast majority of Cambodians regarded as semi-divine: “In general the majority of the Khmer people, particulary the peasants, loved the Prince … From the law of Kamma [karma] and reincarnation, Khner commoners believed that those who were born as kings, princes and princesses were beings descended from heaven [because of the good deeds they had] performed in previous existences … Prince Sihanouk was thus looked upon as a ‘super being’ who controlled the fate of all.”(2)

Rejecting the traditional “splendid isolation” of the Cambodian monarchy, Sihanouk travelled the country, met and talked with all types of people, donated farm equipment and other helpful things, and sought to solve their problems. In short, the people trusted him because he took the trouble to show he cared about them.

When General Lon Nol overthrew Sihanouk on March 18, 1970 (with presumed American help) and abolished the monarchy, many peasants sensed disaster ahead.(3) They were right. Lon Nol was corrupt, had little grasp of Cambodia’s military situation, and was mentally weakened by a stroke in 1971.(4) His military campaigns were disastrous, his dictatorial tendencies encouraged many to join the Khmer Rouge, and he gradually seemed to lose touch with reality. As a result, he rapidly lost whatever popular trust he had and was “asked” to leave Cambodia on April 1, 1975.

Upon assuming control on April 17, 1975, the Khmer Rouge presented Angka Leou (the Organization) as their public face. Their names were announced on April 14, 1976, but their use of false names and lack of biographical information made exact identification impossible.(5) For 2 years, they did not mention that they were communists who envisaged a socialist future. Nor did they explain their new policies to the nation.(6) Their isolation from the people was complete.

Instead of building trust, the Khmer Rouge sought to destroy ever pillar of traditional society. The family structure was shattered by forced evacuations from cities and continual arbitrary population shifts, gender- and aged-based work brigades, and communal eating. Roles were reversed: children were encouraged to report on their parents, indoctrinated instead of educated, and literally given the power of life and death over adults. Religion was outlawed; temples, mosques, and churches were destroyed or converted into other uses; and monks, imams, and priests were murdered. No public manifestation of religion was allowed. In its Utopian zeal, the Khmer Rouge outlawed everything that made Cambodia what it was.

In return they gave illusion, terror, pain, and lies. An internal Khmer Rouge document states that: “There is a little friction with the people, but we can abandon the people, there is no problem.”(7) The Khmer Rouge was concerned only mobilizing its people through ideology and discipline to retake southern Vietnam and protect itself against Vietnam. Along with many other Utopians, the ends justified the means.

Rational Economic and Development Policies: The French colonialists kept the peasantry largely rural and subjected to high taxes and usurious interest rates of as much as 200%. Rubber, corn, and rice were the main products, and industry was minimal. Vietnamese were important in fishing, rubber workers, and clerical workers, fishermen, and small business. The Chinese continued to dominate commerce and banking.(8)

With independence, foreign aid projects were regarded as means of personal enrichment.(9) Sihanouk’s paternalistic doctrine of Royalist-Buddhist Socialism stated that the ruler would provide for the people. With the elite and others becoming richer and able to travel abroad, conspicuous consumption increased even though the nation’s economy could no longer expand, for there had not been enough time to construct the needed infrastructures.(10) The countryside remained largely the same, while the urban areas consumed and did not produce.

Under Lon Nol, agriculture was wiped out by relentless US bombing, peasant flight, forced induction into various armies, and the destruction of land and draft animals. Industry was ignored, and aid money was siphoned off into people’s pockets. When Phnom Penh finally fell in 1975, Cambodia had no economy, agricultural or industrial, to speak of.

The Khmer Rouge immediately emptied the cities.(11) This controversial policy forced everyone into the countryside where, divided into “old people” and “new people,” they were expected to revitalize agriculture. Ideology, instead of analysis or rational thought, determined who would do what. Production quotas were wildly unrealistic in many areas. Most of what was produced was confiscated or bartered for Chinese products and expertise. Payment was a subsistence diet, and not even that for anyone who failed to reach the quota.

After printing a new currency, the Khmer Rouge decided to scrap it and abolish money altogether, for whereas money created markets, wealth, and private property, abolishing it would solve these “problems.”(12) Trade with China, the Khmer Rouge’s only significant ally, was based on barter. But money never totally disappeared. Along with jewelry and gold, money was used in black market transactions, and Khmer Rouge cadres were not immune.(13)

In a land with no agricultural, industrial, or educational infrastructure to speak of, the Khmer Rouge dared to dream of achieving a “Super Great Leap Forward”: “We have leaped Over the semi-colonial, semi-feudal society of the American imperialists, the feudalists and capitalists of every nation, and have achieved a socialist state straight away.”(14) Chou En-lai, Chairman Mao’s right-hand man, urged them not to repeat China’s own Great Leap Forward, but they thought they knew better.

The Khmer Rouge stated that Cambodia as a whole would modernize its agriculture within 10 to 15 years, while other areas would do so in only 4 or 5 years.(15) Agriculture would make everything possible: “The basic key is agriculture. Self-reliance means capital from agriculture.”(16) Recognizing their limitations in industry, Party documents of 1976-77 stressed light industry that would move toward heavy industry. But how was this to be carried out? Cambodia had no money and China was changing: the chaos of the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution (1966-76) had weakened China and Mao was dead (Sept. 9,1976). In addition the Gang of Four, a group of staunch Khmer Rouge patrons consisting of Mao’s wife and three of her allies, was under arrest (Oct. 6, 1976).

Control over the Nation’s Territory: On April 17, 1975, the Khmer Rouge controlled all of Cambodia’s territory. But this was not good enough-Pol Pot dreamed of restoring the old Khmer Empire, which had ruled much of southern Vietnam and still had a large ethnically Khmer population (Khmer Rrom). By mixing this irredentist desire with Cambodians’ traditional fear of Vietnam, Pol Pot unleashed a conflict that only a Utopian divorced from reality could understand. During April 1977, the Khmer Rouge began attacking villages in Vietnam. On January 1, 1978, the Khmer Rouge publicly announced Vietnam’s “aggression,” and full-scale war erupted.

This war was launched for several reasons:

•They had defeated American alone and so were invincible. On July 22, 1975, Pol Pot stated:”We have won total, definitive, and clean victory, meaning that we have won it without any foreign connection or involvement.”(17) Such a deliberate ignoring of history led him to change the date of the Communist Party of Kampuchea’s founding 1951 (an outgrowth of Ho Chi Minh’s Indochina Communist Party) to 1960, when he became the party’s deputy secretary, and to begin purging Cambodian communists trained in Vietnam.

•Cambodia needed “only 2 million troops to crush the 50 million Vietnamese.”(18) This ignored the facts that Vietnam had militarily defeated both the French and Americans and had a battle-hardened army with decades of actual military experience and plenty of weaponry. Compared to them, the Khmer Rouge army was a murderous joke.

•The general population would support them, despite official policies of destroying everything held dear by them, execution as practically the only punishment, starvation, overwork, and a lack of military training and supplies.

This bellicosity led to Vietnam invading Cambodia on December 25, 1978, occupying it on January 7, 1979, and staying until September 1989.

An Educated Population: After decades of French colonial rule that had seen fit to keep Cambodians ignorant, Sihanouk embarked on a massive campaign to educate young Cambodians. However, apparently neither he nor the people understood that education should serve the nation. The students and their parents saw it as a means to acquire social status, an escape from village life, and a chance to make money. The liberal arts and a bureaucratic career were preferred over careers in agriculture, any technical field, or industry. Finally, the government and the educational sectors could no longer absorb the graduates. Neither could the economy, which was controlled by the Cambodian aristocracy and elite, and Chinese and Vietnamese merchants. Thus, the intellectuals were largely irrelevant to Cambodia’s development needs, unemployed, and frustrated.(19)

The Khmer Rouge did not trust intellectuals, regardless of how useful their expertise might be. There are many cases of Cambodian intellectuals returning from abroad only to be executed. Former teachers, professionals, and students soon learned to deny their past and merge into the broad uneducated masses.

In most areas, formal education was abolished in favor of learning by doing and ideological indoctrination. Khieu Samphan, Cambodia’s nominal head of state, displayed this attitude in 1977: “… whether the dams and reservoirs thai we have built last only 5 or 10 years does not matter,” for the people would learn by doing…; a year later he admitted that the state of pharmaceutical products was ‘still of handicraft quality’ in order that the country remain independent, sovereignty, self-reliant, and self-sufficient, and in order to learn technology through practice.”(20) Clearly, modern technical and other education was irrelevant-only ideological purity mattered.

Conclusion

The Khmer Rouge failed because they refused to understand Cambodia’s reality: a small nation devastated by war; a society consisting of a mainly poor, uneducated, and illiterate peasantry; a class of intellectuals whose education was largely irrelevant; and two neighbors with far better armies and historical territorial ambitions on Cambodia (Thailand and Vietnam).

They also failed to understand their own people. With their oft-repeated maxim of “If you die it is no loss; if you live it is no gain,” how could it be otherwise? The Khmer Rouge were notorious for their purges, which became ever more bloody as their Utopian dreams could not overcome reality. After replacing the old sociely with a new one based on terror, incompetence, an almost total lack of medical care, starvation, murder, and basically forcing its people to live in Hell before they died, the Khmer Rouge nevertheless expected popular support-because their ideology mandated it. But as the purges gathered steam, many Khmer Rouge began defecting to Vietnam to join nascent armed opposition groups being trained by Vietnam, and many ordinary Cambodians lost whatever revolutionary enthusiasm they might have had.(21)

And what was the end of Pol Pot, the mastermind behind this negative Utopia? Forced to rely for his very survival on America, France, and Thailand, he and his forces were confined to gradually smaller and smaller border areas. When he died in 1998, whether naturally or a suicide is not certain, be was “cremated under a pile of rubbish and rubber tires.”(22) His replacement was Ta Mok, a man whose name has become a synonym for brutality and violence. After arresting and trying his former leader, Ta Mok eulogized him as follows: “He (Pol Pot) is nothing more than cow dung. Actually, cow dung is more useful.”(23)

Footnotes  

1 The post-war population figure is based on the 1962 census, the last one before Cambodia was forced into the Vietnam war. Cambodia: A Country Study (United States Government: 1990), 51. In America, this would be the equivalent of approximately 38.7 million to 111.2 million deaths out of a total population of 275.6 million (July 2000 estimate).

2 Yang Sam, Khmer Buddhism and Politics from 1954 to 1984 (Khmer Studies Institutes 1987), 11.

3 Ibid., 49.

4 William Shawcross, Sideshow: Kissinger, Nixon, and the Destruction of Cambodia (Pocket Books, 1979), 186-87.

5 Ben Kiernan, The Pol Pot Regime: Race, Power, and Genocide in Cambodia under the Khmer Rouge, 1975-1979 (Yale University Press: 1996), 327.

6 David Chandler, The Tragedy of Cambodian History: Politics, War, and Revolution since 1945 (Yale University Press, 1991), 271-72.

7 Kiernan, Regime, 98.

8 Cambodia: A Country Study, 19-20.

9 Michael Vickery, Cambodia: 1975-1982 (South End Press 1984), 22.

10 Ibid., 23.

11 Many reasons for this have been given, such as fears of imminent American bombing, an inability to feed these people, the need for farmers to get back to growing crops, breaking up potential opposition, unearthing spies, or the rural people’s revenge upon the urbanites.

12 Kiernan, Regime, 55-57.

13 Vickery, Cambodia, 158.

14 David Chandler, Ben Kiernan, and Chanthou Boua (eds. and trans.), Pol Pot Plans the Future: Confidential Leadership Documents from Democratic Kampuchea, 1996-1997 (Yale University Southeast Asia Studies. 1988), 14, 36.

15 Ibid., 27. “Modern” was defined as high production, one hectare producing anywhere from 3 to 10 tons. Initially, there would be little modern fertilizer and no equipment. Before the war, Cambodia produced about 1 metric ton of rice per hectare (Hildebrand and Porter Cambodia: Starvation and Revolution, 62). Cambodia: A Country Study claims an average hectare yield of 1.2 tons from 1952-69. Regardless, Cambodia’s rice production figures were among the lowest in Asia.

16 Ibid., 30.

17 Kiernan, Regime, 94.

18 Nayan Chanda, Brother Enemy: The War after the War (Collier Books: 1988), 298.

19 Ben Kiernan, How Pol Pot Came to Power (Verso: 1985), 1982.

20 Vickery, Cambodia: 1975-1982, 160.

21 Chandler, Tragedy, 236-37, 270-71.

22 Time 100 (23-30 Aug. 23-30, 1999). Online at www.time.com/time/asia/asia/magazine/1999/990823/pol_pot1.html.

23 Don Pathan, The News-Times: International News (18 April 1998). Online at: www.newstimes.com/archive98/apr1998/inb.htm.

Wartime coverage

For big institutions that need to deal with the media, buying advertisements through media outlets is a common way to avoid being attacked by the media and sponsoring programs is a good device for using the media as PR agents. After some bad experiences with the media in the Korean War and worse experiences in the Vietnam War, the US military determined to harness the power of the media. Like any other service-providers keen to establish and maintain the popularity of their products, the military sought to advertise their services: patriotism, heroism, military might and, of course, war. During the Gulf War they played the role of an advertising client of the media, especially the broadcast media, and, in effect, sponsored a live war spectacle in the Persian Gulf. Thousands of soldiers and innocent civilians made up the cast for a show which attracted millions to their TV screens. It was a masterpiece of collaboration between the army and the media.

In order to sustain government and national policies, especially in ‘democratic’ countries, public support is vital, and today the media monopolize this power of persuasion. We can see power centres attempting to control media as early as the 1400s. When Gutenberg invented the printing press, the Roman Catholic Church saw this tool being used to undermine the papal authority, and declared it as ‘evil.’ During the second half of the twentieth century, especially in democratic countries like the US, the broadcasting media have themselves become a major power centre. Since the majority of the intellectuals in these countries regard the media as a ‘watchdog’ over the actions of government, the media exercise tremendous political authority as well as economic power. Since very few, if any, major policy decisions can be made without media approval, government needs to reconcile itself to the media rather than control them. Indeed, whoever needs the media’s ‘seal of approval’ must appeal to the media.

Except for government financed channels, all media outlets are commercial and the goal of channels like ABC, NBC, and CNN is making profit, rather than playing the ‘watchdog’ role. Inevitably, the ‘watchdog’ role is often compromised by the need to make profit. A well-known example of this in the past was the relationship between the media and the cigarette industry. Cigarette companies paid huge amounts of money to the media which encouraged them not to discuss the harmful side- effects of smoking. ‘Information concerning the hazards of cigarette smoking was available as early as 1938 but was ignored, censored or played down by the media to such an extent that, even two decades later, only 44 percent of the people thought smoking was a cause of lung cancer’ (Jensen, 1993, p.212). In exchange for some benefits, the media can be manipulated to hide information and sometimes even give false information. Such a case occurred during the Reagan administration: each of the three big networks ABC, CBS and NBC was acquired by corporations that might have been unqualified under earlier FCC standards which Reagan lifted. In return, the big media dispensed relentlessly positive news about Reaganism and the great trickle-down dream (ibid., p.25). Furthermore, by writing positive news, ‘government lying was too willingly supported by the media’ (ibid., p.26). The general public are quite ignorant of the extent of distortion and false reporting. We are not speaking of hiding some few government blunders but of giving erroneous background information to favour a declaration of war or the application of murderously punitive economic sanctions against a country. Seriously independent, investigative journalists, such as those who publish annually The Censored Year Book, document many cases of disinformation and misinformation by the US media on serious issues that involve loss of human life. 

Following what they saw as the bias of the media during the Korean and Vietnam Wars, the American military made a study of the weak points of the media, as of an enemy. In particular, they realized that the media’s concern to find the most interesting, up- to-date and spectacular news so that their channel would be viewed by large audiences was more important to them than their ‘watchdog’ role: ‘the larger the audience, the more they can charge for advertising’ (Fitzgerald). The media’s need for high ratings made them vulnerable to bargaining pressure, which the military exploited as any business interest would. War crimes and horrors were not to be shown, if the media wanted access to the international which would secure their audience ratings. The media’s capacity to present war as a big show was first realized (and managed) by British officials during the Falklands conflict. They knew that if the media were denied other alternatives than showing the official propaganda footage, they would use the propaganda rather than have nothing to broadcast. The British experience became the pattern for US military officials who set up a new, semi-formal code for US media and military relations. Following the Falklands pattern, military officials in charge of the Grenada, Panama and Gulf wars made it clear to media executives (through, for example such agreements as the Pentagon’s ten-page list of rules, revised in January 1991) that if they did not misbehave by revealing war crimes or US casualties they would have access to their military show and would make some profit. The deal suited both sides. CNN Executive Vice-President Ed Turner said:‘In the end, we are going to co-operate [with the US military]’ (Sukow, 1991) revealing his desire not to miss the chance to air the curious military show about to happen in the Arabian desert. However, it was not a show, it was a war. As a result, just as arguments for a non-military resolution were denied prominence, so too the unpleasant realities of the imposed military resolution, including the loss of human life, were hidden from a world-wide audience.

Conclusion

The military evolved tactics against the media to influence them as they had once influenced the military, began with the Korean War. Until the beginning of the end of the Vietnam War, the relations continued in the same pattern. Following the British example in the Falklands, the US military had their own model of media control in place before the Grenada invasion, and had made it more effective still for the Panama invasion. During the Gulf War, in the latest phase of these evolving tactics, there began a new level of almost overt commercial co-operation between the US military and the US mass media.

Today media and military planners work together on the battlefield. In the Gulf War, reflecting on the effort the broadcasting companies and other mass media put into advertising the war and attaining public support for it, we can say that correspondents seemed as if they were working as members of the army: the media functioned as a department of the military with the task of achieving public support for the victory. The co-operation between the army and news media succeeded. In the Gulf War, many reprehensible acts were committed by the US and its allies such as the bombing of civilian targets, including shelters and apartments, or concocting lies in order to make propaganda against the enemy seem legitimate. Sometimes this was even done by means of the President, George Bush. However, the war was legitimized in the eyes of the US public, and also in the eyes of many people all around the world.

In the past, the relationship between the military and the media was not so close. For the sake of getting good and interesting coverage, in many cases, the media harmed the aims of the military by exposing their failures or wrong actions, such as in the Vietnam War. In response, military and government offices increased censorship and stopped media access to military and governmental sources. After a long struggle and animosity between the media and the military, they appear to have become wholly reconciled in a mode of co-operation beneficial for both sides: exciting coverage and an international audience for the media and unquestioning public support for the military and government policies. Today the media, knowingly or unknowingly, function as the US Army’s PR agent, and in return the military gives them an important and exciting international event to report, which everyone is curious to see: war.

References

• FITZGERALD, J. (1995) ‘Aesthetics & Media Criticism’. Lecture in Emerson College, Media Criticism Aesthetics course, January 19.
• JENSEN, C. (1993) The News That Didn’t Make the News and Why, The 1993 Censored Year Book, Sheburne Press.
• KARNOW, S. (1984) Vietnam: A History. The first Complete Account of Vietnam at War, Penguin Books, New York, NY, p.23.
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