Jack Snyder and Karen Ballentine
Nationalism and the marketplace of ideas
The conventional wisdom among human rights activists holds that
a great deal of the ethnic conflict in the world today is caused
by propagandistic manipulations of public opinion. Human Rights
Watch, for example, points the finger at unscrupulous governments
who try to save their own skins by "playing the communal card."
As antidotes, such groups prescribe democratization, wide-open
debate in civil society, and greater freedom of the press.(1)
Scholars likewise argue that a major stimulus to belligerent nationalism
is the state's manipulation of mass media and mass education to
infuse the nation with a sense of in-group patriotism and out-group
rivalry.(2) They, too, prescribe greater freedom of speech.(3)
We agree that media manipulation often plays a central role in
promoting nationalist and ethnic conflict, but we argue that promoting
unconditional freedom of public debate in newly democratizing
societies is, in many circumstances, likely to make the problem
worse. Historically and today, from the French Revolution to Rwanda,
sudden liberalizations of press freedom have been associated with
bloody outbursts of popular nationalism. The most dangerous situation
is precisely when the government's press monopoly begins to break
down.(4) During incipient democratization, when civil society
is burgeoning but democratic institutions are not fully entrenched,
the state and other elites are forced to engage in public debate
in order to compete for mass allies in the struggle for power.(5)
Under those circumstances, governments and their opponents often
have the motive and the opportunity to play the nationalist card.
When this occurs, unconditional freedom of speech is a dubious
remedy. Just as economic competition produces socially beneficial
results only in a well-institutionalized marketplace, where monopolies
and false advertising are counteracted, so too increased debate
in the political marketplace leads to better outcomes only when
there are mechanisms to correct market imperfections.(6) Many
newly democratizing states lack institutions to break up governmental
and non-governmental information monopolies, to professionalize
journalism, and to create common public forums where diverse ideas
engage each other under conditions in which erroneous arguments
will be challenged. In the absence of these institutions, an increase
in the freedom of speech can create an opening for nationalist
mythmakers to hijack public discourse.
In developing these arguments, we first define nationalist mythmaking
and explain the scope of our claims. Second, we present our concept
of the marketplace of ideas and offer hypotheses about conditions
that facilitate nationalist mythmaking, illustrating these propositions
with examples from that classic hotbed of nationalist mythmaking,
the Weimar Republic, and from other recent and historical cases.
Third, we test our argument against two hard cases, ethnic conflict
in the former Yugoslavia and in Rwanda, both dramatic clashes
that seem superficially to fit the conventional view that a government
media monopoly is the problem, and unfettered speech the antidote.
Fourth, we explore cases with comparatively moderate outcomes
to determine the conditions under which democratization does not
produce intense nationalist mythmaking. We conclude with suggestions
for better institutionalizing public debate in new democracies.
Nationalist Mythmaking
Conventional wisdom is right in focusing on inflammatory propaganda
as a cause of nationalism and ethnic conflicts. The archetype
for this notion is the stem-winding oratory of Adolf Hitler, with
its renowned pied-piper effect on malleable audiences.(7) Likewise,
the world's first instance of aggressive nationalism, the Wars
of the French Revolution, was sparked by an outpouring of warlike
commentary in France's newly free press, which swept the demagogic
journalist Jacques Pierre Brissot into power.(8) Recent reincarnations
of this phenomenon, stressed in analyses by non-governmental organizations
(NGOs) and by scholars, include the Hutu "hate radio" stations
that encouraged genocide against Rwanda's Tutsi minority, as well
as President Slobodan Milosevic's use of the television monopoly
to foster an embattled, surly mentality among Serbs.(9)
Conventional wisdom is one-sided, however, when it blames nationalist
demagogy primarily on governmental media monopolies and consequently
prescribes unfettered free speech as the remedy. A 1995 report
by Human Rights Watch, for example, concluded that in ten of the
hottest contemporary ethnic conflicts, manipulative governments
had "played the communal card" as a way to forestall declining
popularity or to pursue strategies of divide-and-rule. "Dictatorship
offers the ideal condition for playing the 'communal card'," because
"official control of information makes public opinion highly manipulable."(10)
Yet almost all of the countries studied in the report - India,
Israel, South Africa, Romania, Sri Lanka, the former Yugoslavia,
Lebanon, Russia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan - had recently held openly
contested elections where powerful opposition groups were more
nationalist than the government.(11) In addition, Human Rights
Watch argued that, because "conditions for polarization along
communal lines are less propitious in a society where public debate
is encouraged," where past human rights abuses are vigorously
prosecuted, and where there is "free participation in a broad
range of voluntary and public associations," the cure is "vigorous
civic debate" in a "well developed civil society."(12) But in
fact, the Hindu fundamentalist Bharatiya Janata Party, the Armenian
Karabakh Committee, and most of the instigators of ethnic conflict
in the Human Rights Watch cases are "civil society," that is,
voluntary organizations not created by the state. The Weimar Republic
had record numbers of newspapers per capita, choral societies,
and grassroots nationalist organizations, all indicators of a
vigorous civil society; likewise, the nationalistic Jacobin Clubs
of the French Revolution were spontaneous emanations of civil
society.(13)
Conventional analyses fail to emphasize that a "well developed"
civil society is not simply a matter of many clamoring voices,
but also the set of institutions and social norms that make pluralism
a civil process of persuasion and reconciling of differences.(14)
No matter how well-intentioned and knowledgeable, non-governmental
organizations promoting human rights tend to understate the tension
between their ideal of an open society and the difficulty of establishing
its preconditions in newly democratizing societies. As a consequence,
their remedies may sometimes fuel nationalist mythmaking rather
than dampen it. It is understandable that such groups are reluctant
to explore the trade-offs entailed in promoting free speech, since
there is undoubtedly a risk that qualifications to the argument
for free speech can be exploited by dictators who wish to snuff
out freedom of expression entirely. Nonetheless, because the risks
of uncritical advocacy of unconditional free speech can be very
high, these trade-offs must be analyzed forthrightly.
DEFINING NATIONALISM AND MYTHS
Nationalism, according to the most widely accepted definition,
is the doctrine that the state and the nation should be congruent.
Nationalism holds that legitimate rule is based on the sovereignty
of a culturally or historically distinctive people in a polity
that expresses and protects those distinctive characteristics.(15)
We examine under this definition both the state-seeking activity
of ethnic groups in multi-ethnic states and also the rivalries
of established and more ethnically homogeneous nation-states,
insofar as their leaders seek to legitimate their power and appeal
for popular support for their policies by claiming to fulfill
the historical mission or cultural identity of the nation.(16)
"Myths," for our purposes, are assertions that would lose credibility
if their claim to a basis in fact or logic were exposed to rigorous,
disinterested public evaluation.(17) The assertion that the Holocaust
never happened is an example of a myth, in this sense. Nationalist
mythmaking, then, is the attempt to use dubious arguments to mobilize
support for nationalist doctrines or to discredit opponents. For
some scholars, nationalist mythmaking is understood exclusively
in this sense of promoting demonstrable falsehoods: in Ernest
Renan's words, "getting its history wrong is part of being a nation."(18)
Other scholars of nationalism, however, conceive of myth in the
sense of mythomoteur, that is, as a story about the origins, special
character, and destiny of the "nation."(19) The values embodied
in such mythomoteurs are not subject to falsification, no matter
how astutely they are scrutinized. Assertions like "it is good
to be Ruritanian" or "Ruritanians deserve their own state" cannot
be falsified, not because they are irrational, but because they
are normative claims which exist independently of objective standards
of argumentation. Nationalist mythomoteurs can, on occasion, lead
to conflict: for example, when both Ruritanians and Megalomanians
identify the same territory as "our historic homeland," and each
claims to "deserve" exclusive, sovereign control over it. Because
of the non-falsifiability of national mythomoteurs, even a well-constituted
marketplace of ideas cannot provide iron-clad restraints against
this kind of mythology. A well-constituted marketplace can, however,
effectively mitigate the propagation of falsifiable nationalist
myths. This capacity is of no small consequence since, typically,
nationalist conflict is not the spontaneous emanation of vague
mythomoteurs but the product of deliberate elite efforts to mobilize
latent solidarities behind a particular political program, which
falsifiable myths are used to justify. Thus, some of the justifications
offered for why Ruritanians deserve to rule a territory (e.g.,
"we ruled it six centuries ago") or why they should preventively
attack the Megalomanians (e.g., "they were able to kill ten million
of us during the last war, because we let our guard down") entail
empirical claims or causal inferences that are subject to objective
scrutiny and perhaps verification or refutation.
We do not contend that all nationalist ideas are myths, let alone
falsifiable ones. Nor do we argue that nationalists are uniquely
prone to political mythmaking, nor that nationalism and nationalist
conflict stem only from mythmaking. Besides myths, scholars have
identified many factors that plausibly contribute to nationalism
or nationalist conflict: the rise of the modern state, economic
change, political repression, socio-economic inequality, security
threats, and so forth. Our focus on mythmaking is not intended
to compete with these approaches, but to complement them. We argue
that these factors work their effects on nationalism through the
process of persuasion and mythmaking in the marketplace of ideas.
As many scholars have stressed, whatever background factors may
contribute to nationalism, nationalist agitation and propaganda
are always necessary conditions to the development of a mass nationalist
movement.(20)
Though nationalism and nationalist myths are not the only cause
of conflict between nations, we do argue that a tendency to breed
conflict is inherent in typical nationalist myths, because they
overemphasize the cultural and historical distinctiveness of the
national group, exaggerate the threat posed to the nation by other
groups, ignore the degree to which the nation's own actions provoked
such threats, and play down the costs of seeking national goals
through militant means.(21) Nationalist mobilization against alleged
threats from other national groups, whether within the state or
abroad, heightens the risk of conflict by stereotyping opponents
as irremediably hostile, yet inferior and vulnerable to vigilant
preventive attack.(22) Whether such myths can be successfully
sold depends in large measure on the structure of the marketplace
of ideas in which they are advanced.
Imperfect Markets and Nationalist Mythmaking
Liberal conventional wisdom, steeped in John Stuart Mill's argument
that truth is most likely to emerge from no-holds-barred debate,
optimistically expects the invisible hand of free competition
to check the mythmaking of nationalist demagogues. Under conditions
of "perfect competition" in the political marketplace, it may
indeed be true that, on balance, unfettered debate tends to discredit
ill-founded myths by revealing their factual inaccuracies, their
logical contradictions, or the hidden costs of acting on their
implications.(23) That is probably one reason why mature democracies
never fight wars against each other.(24) However, when waning
authoritarian power is newly challenged by the forces of mass
politics, competition in the marketplace of ideas is likely to
be highly imperfect, and opportunities for nationalist mythmaking
abound.
In the political marketplace, governmental and non-governmental
elites advance arguments about the benefits of policies and commit
themselves to these policies in order to gain political support.(25)
Consumers in the marketplace decide whom to support based in part
on the persuasiveness of the arguments of elite entrepreneurs
and on the credibility of the elites' commitments to implement
desired policies. Middlemen in the marketplace (journalists and
policy experts) and market institutions (the media, analytical
institutions, and the laws regulating them) convey political entrepreneurs'
commitments and arguments to consumers in ways that provide varying
degrees of information about their credibility and accuracy. The
better institutionalized the market, the better it scrutinizes
arguments and forces ideas to confront each other in common forums,
and therefore the better the information the market provides.
The media that comprise the marketplace include not only instruments
of mass communication like television and newspapers, but also
local networks of face-to-face persuasion, as well as elite publications
and discourse that generate ideas for mass dissemination.(26)
Thus, the commodities exchanged in the market are consumers'
political support and suppliers' policy commitments. The role
that ideas play in the "marketplace of ideas" is not that of goods,
but that of advertisements for political support.(27) Ideas put
forward in the marketplace convey purported information about
values and interests, and also about facts and causal inferences
from facts. Thus, the supplier uses advertising to convince the
consumer to want what the supplier has to offer: for example,
to believe that the fulfillment of the nation's destiny is rightful
and valuable, and that the consumer's personal interests and values
will be served by it. The supplier also tries to convince the
consumer that the offered policies will produce the advertised
benefits with a high probability at a low cost, and that alternative
policies will lead to worse results. To accomplish this, the suppliers'
advertising includes claims about, for example, the nature of
the nation's opponents, the likelihood of cooperation with other
national groups, the history of past interactions with them, and
the prospects of success from nationalist mobilization or armed
conflict.(28)
Our conception of the marketplace of ideas is based on the description
of economic markets provided by standard economic analysis. The
structure of the market consists of the degree of concentration
of supply, the degree of segmentation of demand, and the strength
of institutions regulating market interactions, including those
that provide information or regulate advertising. Imperfect competition
occurs when there are few sellers because of large scale economies
and high barriers to entry, and when products are differentiated
for sale to segmented markets. Market segmentation may occur as
a result of consumers' distinctive tastes for differentiated products,
the artificial inculcation of differentiated preferences through
targeted advertising, transportation costs or other advantages
in distribution and marketing to a particular set of consumers,
or political barriers to exchange between market segments. Under
these conditions, sellers tend to engage either in competitive
advertising, collusion to divide up market share, or a combination
of the two.(29) Rivalry is more likely when barriers to entry
are falling, or in a "young industry," where "sellers may not
have learned what to expect of rivals" and "may be scrambling
to secure an established place in the industry, in the process
inadvertently starting a price war."(30) To achieve socially beneficial
outcomes under imperfect competition, regulation is needed to
break up trusts, prohibit collusion, and insure truth in advertising.
The marketplace of ideas in newly democratizing states often
mirrors that of a young, poorly regulated industry, where barriers
to entry are falling, competition is imperfect, and oligopolistic
elites exploit partial media monopolies in intense competition
to win mass support in a segmented market. This kind of imperfectly
competitive market may yield the worst of both worlds: elites
are driven to compete for the mobilization of mass support, but
by targeting niche markets, they can avoid debating in a common
forum where ideas are publicly held up to rigorous scrutiny by
competitors and expert evaluators. In these circumstances, nationalism
may help elites to gain support in an ethnic market niche and
also to maintain high barriers to entry by diverting demands for
civic participation into mobilization for national goals. Thus,
market conditions in newly democratizing states often create both
the incentive for nationalist advertising and the conditions for
its success, as we explain below.
PARTIAL MONOPOLIES OF SUPPLY
What human rights advocates fear most is a complete governmental
monopoly over the press. In this situation, the government can
propagate any nationalist myth without having to face countervailing
arguments. While we agree that perfect monopoly is hardly desirable,
we argue that it is not the only - and perhaps not the most -
dangerous condition for nationalist mythmaking. Conditions of
perfect monopoly make the audience skeptical. In communist and
other authoritarian states, for example, people tend to discount
propaganda precisely because they know that it comes from a monopolistic
source, and typically turn to informal networks and stratagems
for reading between the lines of official discourse.(31) Moreover,
perfect monopolists often lack a motive to mobilize their population's
nationalism. Facing no active opposition and ruling without popular
consent, they face little need to compete for the mantle of popular
legitimacy by whipping up mass enthusiasms. Indeed, unleashing
mass nationalism would only hinder their goal of depoliticizing
domestic politics and would introduce needless complications into
their management of foreign relations.(32) For this reason, dictatorships
play the nationalist card only under two conditions: when their
ability to monopolize power and discourse is slipping, like that
of the Argentine junta on the eve of the Falklands War, or when
their ascent to power, and hence their legitimacy, have been based
on the use of popular nationalism to prevail in an initially pluralistic
setting, such as Bonaparte after the French Revolution, Hitler
after the Weimar Republic, or the Japanese military regime after
the collapse of the Taisho democracy of the 1920s.(33)
Especially prone to nationalist mythmaking are situations of
partial monopoly over supply in the marketplace of ideas, which
often occur during the earliest stages of democratization. In
such conditions of intra-elite competition, governments and other
elite interests often enjoy residual market power as the legacy
of authoritarian monopoly control: the state or economic elites
of the threatened ruling circles may still control key components
of the mass media or have the resources to shape its content.
Nationalist militaries may invoke their monopoly of specialized
expertise to exaggerate foreign threats; the government may tendentiously
regulate broadcast media in what it calls "the public interest";
private economic lobbies may buy journalists, supposedly neutral
experts, and media access. For example, Alfred Hugenberg, the
chairman of the board of directors of Krupp Steel during World
War I and the chairman of the German National People's Party during
the Weimar Republic, established the Telegraph Union wire service,
which gave him control over half of Germany's press.(34) By providing
loans, reduced-rate newsprint, and accounting services to inflation-ridden
papers, Hugenberg achieved substantial control over many papers
while maintaining their facades of independence. Though even small
cities often had multiple newspapers, Hugenberg's service fed
them all the same nationalist-slanted copy.
As a democratizing political system opens up, old elites and
rising counter-elites must compete for the support of new entrants
into the marketplace through popular appeals, including appeals
to the purported common interests of elites and mass groups in
pursuing nationalistic aims against out-groups. In many instances,
including the case of Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic, these
elites evince little interest in nationalism until rising pressure
for mass political participation gives them an incentive to do
so.(35) This strategy worked extremely well, for example, for
the Kaiser-appointed governments of Bismarckian and Wilhelmine
Germany, which faced the dilemma of winning budgetary approval
from a Reichstag elected by universal suffrage. Five times between
the founding of the Reich and 1914 the government chose to fight
elections on what it styled as "national" issues - the Kulturkampf
against the Catholics in 1874, the campaign of 1878 tarring socialists
as anti-national, the campaigns to support bills to strengthen
the army in 1887 and in 1893, and the "Hottentot election" on
German colonial policy in 1907. Each time elections were fought
on "national" grounds, voter turnout increased and more rightist
candidates were elected, in part because conservative candidates
got more votes overall and in part because coalitions of right-wing
parties were more cohesive. Hidden financing of nationalist movements
and publications by the Navy and by industrial interests, combined
with prosecutions of opposition voices under a restrictive press
law, played an essential part in this strategy.(36)
Rising counter-elites also tend to play the nationalist card;
indeed, they often make the initial move in a spiral of nationalist
outbidding. From the French revolution to contemporary Armenia,
Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Croatia, it has often been elites from
outside the ruling circles who pushed nationalist issues to the
fore of the public debate, asserting a right to rule on the grounds
that old elites were lax in pursuing the national or ethnic interest.
In principle, populist counter-elites in conditions of incipient
democratization can opt for any of several ideological stances
vis-a-vis the old authoritarian regime. They can pursue a liberal
strategy, criticizing the old elites' denial of individual civic
rights; a socialist line, criticizing class domination; an ethnic
line, criticizing the old elite for favoring a particular cultural
group; or a more inclusive nationalist line, arguing that the
narrow, venal old elite was ignoring the broader national interest.
Nationalism is often attractive to rising counter-elites in part
for the same reason that old ruling elites adopt it: unlike liberalism
or socialism, nationalism allows the aspiring elite to make claims
in the name of the masses without necessarily committing itself
to a policy of sharing power and wealth with the masses once it
has seized control of the state. Other incentives may depend more
on context: e.g., which ideologies are discredited by association
with the hated ancien regime, whether cultural differences are
already salient and thus available to be politicized as ethnonationalism,
and whether the rising counter-elite has some particular comparative
advantage as the standard bearer for a distinctive national culture,
as might be the case with literary or religious elites.(37) Also
important, however, is whether the structure of demand in the
marketplace of ideas is highly segmented, and thus permissive
for nationalist mythmaking.
SEGMENTATION OF DEMAND
A well-constituted marketplace of ideas depends not only on the
expression of diverse views by different groups in society, but
also on individuals' exposure to diverse ideas. A highly segmented
marketplace has the former, but not the latter. In a segmented
marketplace of ideas, individuals in one market segment lack exposure
to ideas expressed in other segments, or exposure is filtered
through sources that distort those ideas.
Demand in the marketplace of ideas is likely to be segmented
in newly democratizing states. A common sphere of democratic discourse
depends on the development of unifying institutions, such as state-wide
non-partisan media, which take time to construct. In many cases,
the authoritarian states or colonial powers that were the democratizing
states' predecessors leave a legacy of divisive institutions and
ideas that were elements in a strategy of divide-and-rule. In
other cases, democracy and freedom of expression are newly thrust
upon traditional societies whose political horizons have historically
been local and communal.(38) Even in democratizing post-communist
states with a legacy of hypercentralization, the media's financial
vulnerability often leaves it vulnerable to capture by partisan
segments, thus spoiling it as a neutral forum for debate.(39)
Narrow market segments magnify the effects of oligopolistic control
over supply; because they are more susceptible to domination by
a single, myth-purveying supplier. Unlike true monopolists, oligopolists
are forced to compete, but they often do so by increasing sales
to consumers in segments of the market that they can monopolize,
rather than in market segments where they face strong competitors.
When this happens, there is no common marketplace of ideas, in
which contending discourses and evidence confront each other directly
on an even playing field. Instead, the existence of parallel monopoly
discourses creates the illusion of market pluralism and free choice
of ideas and, by vitiating skepticism, makes oligopolistic propaganda
more effective than under pure monopoly.(40) Thus, the more segmented
the market, the more the effects of partial monopolies of supply
are magnified, and the more feasible is mythmaking.
Nationalist groups in the newly democratic Weimar Republic, including
those backed by heavy industrial cartels, competed for mass electoral
support against labor parties and liberals not so much by preaching
to the constituencies of their opponents as by exploiting partial
propaganda monopolies to mobilize their own. Hugenberg had only
50 percent of the overall Weimar media market, but he enjoyed
a virtual monopoly over the flow of news to papers in Germany's
small cities and towns, the locations that later voted most heavily
for Hitler.(41) Exploiting Hugenberg's priming of middle class
opinion, Hitler's successes came not from winning over liberal,
socialist, or undecided opinion in open debate, but by cornering
the nationalist market segment through skillful penetration of
grassroots voluntary organizations, such as veterans groups and
beer-drinking societies.(42) Since Hitler attained a dominant
position in the Reichstag with only one-third of the vote, and
used this as a platform for an unconstitutional seizure of the
media and other state powers, monopolizing one segment of the
market was enough to be decisive in a splintered polity.(43)
Segmented markets of ideas in democratizing states are conducive
to nationalism for several reasons. The most fundamental reason
is that elites have an incentive to promote nationalist populism
as a substitute for true democratization. Segmented markets allow
elite oligopolists to carve out a market niche where their nationalist
ideas are not held up to systematic scrutiny. This is true even
if the segmental divisions do not follow linguistic, ethnic, or
communal lines. The nationalist market niches in Weimar Germany
and in contemporary Russia, for example, reflect segmental cleavages
within the majority ethnic group, such as those between urban
and rural groups, between large cities and small towns, between
soldiers or veterans and civilians, between economic strata, or
between age groups. In these cases, mobilization of support by
nationalists and by nationalistic Russian communists relied more
heavily on face-to-face ward-heeling, handbills, and pamphlets
targeted to specialized constituencies than on open media debate
aimed at a broader range of society.(44)
Market segmentation in newly democratizing states sometimes follows
communal or linguistic lines. Language differences and exclusive
face-to-face social networks may channel the dissemination of
ideas along ethnic lines. These ethnic segments rarely start out
with a highly developed sense of national political identity or
nationalist political goals. On the contrary, ethnicity typically
becomes politicized as nationalism only after the emergence of
mass political discourse. Still less do ethnic market segments
start out with consumer preferences for militant, xenophobic nationalism,
based on "ancient hatreds." An ethnically differentiated market
segment may, however, share a set of common experiences and a
common, parochial discourse, which mythmakers can exploit.(45)
Propaganda is most effective when it taps into the audience's
predispositions or when it can link a new idea to attitudes that
the audience already holds.(46) Thus, Milosevic's success in mobilizing
Serbian ethnic sentiment was due not only to his monopoly over
Belgrade television but also to the historical legacy of ethnic
conflict and the tense situation between Albanians and Serbs in
Kosovo, which left his Serbian audience primed to accept his divisive
and uncontested message. In this situation, there was positive
feedback between supply and demand, in that segmented public opinion
was ripe for nationalist appeals, which in turn increased nationalism
and deepened the segmentation of the market.
Even those scholars who tout the rationality of public opinion
attach two crucial qualifications, one on the supply side and
one on the demand side: the public responds rationally to events
within the limits of the information and analysis that it receives,
and given its predispositions.(47) John Zaller, for example, shows
that American voters rely for their opinions on perceived experts
whom they believe share their own values.(48) In this view, experts
do not tell people what to care about, but they do shape people's
estimates of the costs and feasibility of various means for pursuing
the ends that they value. Consequently, demand reflects not only
the preferences of consumers but also the extent to which consumers
with similar predispositions are isolated in separate market segments,
each dominated by a single supplier.
Often the ethnic or communal segmentation of the market is not
a spontaneous reflection of language or traditional social organization,
but rather the modern artifact of elite strategies of divide and
rule. For example, European colonial rulers - whether Stalin in
Central Asia or Belgians in Rwanda - often highlighted or even
created ethnic cleavages in order to split local populations and
insure the dependence of native functionaries. Even in the heart
of Europe, Bismarck and his successors concocted the segmentation
of the German marketplace of ideas through their nationalistic
agenda-setting and electoral propaganda, which divided the middle
classes from socialists and Catholics, who were stigmatized as
"enemies of the Reich." The belligerent tone of the bourgeois
press, pressure groups and associations like the Navy League and
Colonial Society, and political parties were all shaped by the
nationalist themes around which elections were fought. Militarist
ideas promoted in these campaigns and fostered by the middle-class,
Protestant, patriotic organizations they spawned - including the
notions of a need for Lebensraum, victimization by the encircling
great powers, the superiority of German culture, and the spiritual
benefits of war - became standard fare in right-wing thinking.
In this way, electoral tactics erected high walls between segments
of German society, which continued to shape political discourse
and electoral strategies down through the Weimar period.(49)
Sometimes elites segment the marketplace in a way that inadvertently
loads the dice in favor of nationalist ideas. Tito's decentralizing
reforms of the 1960s, which were intended in part to assuage and
defuse ethno-nationalism, put Yugoslavia's media in the hands
of regional leaderships, which in the 1980s fell into the hands
of nationalists like Milosevic. This federalization of power left
pan-Yugoslav reformers like Ante Markovic with no instrument for
transcending the Serb and Croat nationalists' media monopoly over
their respective ethnic niche markets.
While governmental elites in democratizing states are segmenting
the emerging marketplace of ideas, counter-elites and consumers
are rarely passive. Often, elite manipulations produce unintended
consequences, and nationalist mobilization spins out of control.
In Wilhelmine Germany, for example, the strategy of popular nationalism
became less and less manageable for the "iron and rye" coalition
of heavy industrialists and landed aristocrats. Numerically, the
working class grew faster than other constituencies, shrinking
the base from which the government could mobilize a majority.
Moreover, the conservative elites' mass allies increasingly tried
to use nationalist issues to push the old elites aside. After
Germany's supposed humiliation by France in the Moroccan Crisis
of 1911, mass nationalist groups and middle-class military officers
claimed that the old elites running the German state lacked the
dynamism to meet the looming challenge from Germany's enemies.
To stay ahead of this tide of popular criticism, even the Junker
aristocrats leading the Conservative party felt compelled to slam
the weak policy of the Bethmann Hollweg government.(50) The elites
had unleashed a power that they were unable to control.
Segmentation of demand, in short, may be shaped by a number of
factors: the pre-existing preferences or experiences of groups
sharing a common outlook; differentiated preferences induced by
targeted advertising; division of media markets by language or
region; or divisions imposed by political boundaries, as in federal
systems. Such factors may be overridden, however, if political
discourse is channeled into a wider framework by strong catchall
parties or non-partisan media institutions.
MEDIA INSTITUTIONS AND NORMS
Where markets are imperfect, increased freedom of speech will
tend to exacerbate nationalist mythmaking unless institutions
and norms correct the flaws in the market. A well-institutionalized
marketplace of ideas requires anti-trust and equal time regulations
guaranteeing media access, the training of journalists in the
verification of sources and the separation of fact from opinion,
and the development of expert evaluative institutions whose prestige
depends on maintaining a reputation for objectivity. Without such
regulatory institutions, free speech by itself will not guarantee
that a range of voices is effectively heard, that competing arguments
are forced to confront each other on the merits, that participants
in debate are held accountable for the accuracy of their statements,
that factual claims are scrutinized, that experts' credentials
are verified, that hidden sources of bias are exposed, or that
violators of the norms of fair debate are held up to public censure.(51)
Regulation entails some risk of abuse, the severity of which
depends in part on how it is carried out. In centralized forms
of regulation, a state official or governmental body decides who
has access to the media and what are the ground rules for its
use. In contrast, decentralized regulation is achieved through
routines of professional behavior in institutions such as the
professional media, universities, think tanks, and legislative
oversight bodies. Both forms of regulation may be useful antidotes
to market imperfections, and both may be used in combination.
Decentralized regulation is generally preferable, since centralized
regulation creates the risk that the state will exploit its regulatory
power to establish its own media monopoly. However, where decentralized
institutions are weak or lack the required professional norms,
centralized regulation, especially if it is subject to democratic
control or held accountable to international standards, may be
preferable to an imperfect, unregulated marketplace.
Similarly, the regulation of the content of speech, such as the
banning of hate speech, is more subject to abuse than the establishment
of norms of debate, which set standards for how people are expected
to argue their cases. The latter would include the professional
journalist's norm of distinguishing facts from opinion, the scholar's
norm of citing sources of alleged facts, and the League of Women
Voters' norm of expecting candidates to debate issues in a common
forum in front of a panel of disinterested expert questioners.
Establishing strong norms of debate is generally preferable to
regulating the content of speech, but when norms are weak, content
regulation may also be needed. Like centralized regulation, content
limits should be accountable to democratic oversight or international
standards.
Regulation is not a panacea. Indeed, skeptics doubt how well
media institutions structure public debate even in the most mature
democracies. Nevertheless, there is substantial evidence that
effective evaluative institutions do have an impact on public
views. Studies show that, apart from the influence of a popular
president, American public opinion is swayed most strongly by
the media testimony of experts who are perceived to be credible
and unbiased.(52)
If the marketplace of ideas is imperfect even in mature democracies,
its flaws are still more grave in new democracies. An integrated
public sphere, in which each idea confronts every other idea on
its merits, does not get created overnight. Without the functional
equivalents of institutions like the New York Times, the MacNeil-Lehrer
News Hour, the Brookings Institution, and the Congressional Budget
Office, discussion may be open, but an exchange and evaluation
of contending views before a common audience may not occur. In
many newly democratizing societies, press laws are biased and
capriciously enforced.(53) The middlemen of the marketplace of
ideas - journalists, public intellectuals, and public-interest
watchdogs - tend to perform poorly in the initial stages of the
expansion of press freedom. Instead of digging out the truth and
blowing the whistle on fallacious arguments, journalists in emerging
markets are often beholden to a particular party or interest group,
make little attempt to distinguish between fact and opinion, and
lack training in the standards of journalistic professionalism.(54)
While Thomas Jefferson said that if forced to choose, he would
rather have a free press than a democratic government, in assessing
the actual state of the press in young America, he remarked that
"a suppression of the press could not more completely deprive
the nation of its benefits, than is done by its abandoned prostitution
to falsehood. Nothing can now be believed which is seen in a newspaper.
Truth itself becomes suspicious by being put into that polluted
vehicle."(55)
Even if a new democracy has a responsible elite press, its ability
to impose a coherent structure on discourse may not penetrate
to the grassroots level. Weimar's liberal, Jewish-owned, mass
circulation newspapers were objective and even erudite, but their
ideas failed to penetrate beyond Berlin or Hamburg. Even in those
urban centers, workers read the liberal press only for the sports,
feature stories, and movie listings, ignoring the political views
of the "class enemy." Today, India's elite English-language press
has a laudable system of self-regulation and responsible coverage
of communal conflict, but the populist vernacular press remains
immune to these high standards. In newly democratizing states,
the penetration of ideas to the grassroots often requires face-to-face
contacts. In India, at least before Indira Gandhi's time, this
was accomplished by the moderate, secularist political machine
of the Congress Party. In contrast, at the dawn of Sri Lankan
democracy in the 1950s, only Sinhalese Buddhist priests, who fiercely
opposed toleration of the Tamil Hindu minority, had networks for
persuading voters at the crucial village level.(56)
MARKET FORCES THAT PROMOTE NATIONALIST MYTHMAKING
In summary, under conditions of incipient democratization, the
increased openness of public debate often fosters nationalist
mythmaking and ethnic conflict because opportunistic governmental
and non-governmental elites exploit partial monopolies of supply,
segmented demand, and the weakness of regulatory institutions
in the marketplace of ideas. We argue that the greater these market
imperfections (that is, the greater the rivalry between oligopolistic
elites, the greater the consumer segmentation, and the more dependent
and partisan are media institutions), then the greater the likelihood
for nationalist mythmaking to dominate public discourse, and the
greater the likelihood for mythmaking to promote conflict. Conversely,
the more perfect the marketplace and the more integrated the public
sphere, the less effective is nationalist mythmaking. These hypotheses
are probabilistic, not invariant relationships or sufficient causes.
This article does not present a systematic test of all these propositions.
As a first step towards evaluating them, however, we examine two
hard cases, Yugoslavia and Rwanda, which are often invoked on
behalf of the conventional wisdom that governments are largely
responsible for nationalist mythmaking and that unconditional
free speech is the best antidote.
Monopolizing Market Segments in the Former Yugoslavia
On the surface, the story of the media in the Yugoslav conflict
may seem to fit the Human Rights Watch analysis quite well. Government
officials in the republics of Serbia and Croatia used their near-monopoly
control of the news media to fuel their publics' ethnic prejudices,
mobilizing a popular nationalist constituency to support their
rule while discrediting more liberal opponents. However, the media
monopoly merely gave elites in the republics the tools to sell
nationalist myths. The motive and the opportunity were created
by the Serbian elite's fear of democratization, by the plausibility
of these myths to consumers in a segmented market, and by the
unevenness of journalistic standards. Under these highly imperfect
market conditions, the weakening of the central Yugoslav state
created a potential opening for increased political pluralism,
which threatened the oligarchs who ruled the federal republics
and also created an opportunity for political entrepreneurs -
including politicians, journalists, and intellectuals - to exploit
their media market power in the competition for mass support.
Tito's dispersion of control over television to the republics
in the 1960s and 1970s, under the theory that a federalist devolution
of power would dampen underlying ethnic tensions, turned out to
have been a grave mistake. By 1989, when Yugoslav Prime Minister
Ante Markovic finally embarked on the creation of an all-Yugoslav
television network, it was already too little, too late. This
suggests that NGOs' standard prescription of reducing centralized
state media power needs strong qualifications.
In 1987, Slobodan Milosevic, head of the Serbian Central Committee
of the League of Communists, mounted a systematic campaign using
his control over the Serbian state television monopoly to convince
the Serbian people that Serbs residing in Kosovo province, the
historic cradle of Serbdom, were suffering discrimination, repression,
and rape at the hands of the Albanian majority there. He chose
the television correspondent who would report to Belgrade from
Pristina, the capital of Kosovo, and personally phoned the station
almost daily to tell the editors what stories to highlight.(57)
After Milosevic's April 1987 speech in Kosovo, Belgrade TV showed
the local Albanian police clubbing the Serbian crowd, and Milosevic
saying "From now on, no one has the right to beat you," but it
left out the pictures of the crowd stoning the police.(58) Exploiting
the wave of chauvinist sentiment touched off by this media campaign,
Milosevic used the Kosovo issue as a pretext to purge anti-Milosevic
journalists, charging them with issuing "one-sided and untrue
reports," and to consolidate conservative domination in party
circles in Belgrade. Thus, nationalist media manipulation was
the centerpiece of Milosevic's successful strategy for defeating
liberal reformers in the scramble for both mass and elite support
as power devolved from the center in the post-Tito period. Milosevic
never achieved an absolute monopoly over the Serb media, but he
controlled its commanding heights, the state television station
and Belgrade's three major daily newspapers. An independent TV
station and the semi-independent Borba newspaper were prevented
by low wattage and limited newsprint from reaching beyond the
Belgrade suburbs into Milosevic's stronghold in rural Serbia.(59)
Because of Yugoslavia's decentralized federal structure, republican
television stations were totally independent of the central government,
but were monopolized by the republican Communist parties. The
Yugoslav media, like most other aspects of Yugoslav life, had
become by the 1980s "an alliance of regional oligarchies."(60)
Republican television stations would not even show Prime Minister
Markovic's speeches. To combat this, Markovic established an all-Yugoslav
network, Yutel, in 1989. However, the central government's financial
limitations, themselves a consequence of Yugoslavia's federal
structure, left Yutel dependent on army surplus equipment and
the sufferance of local broadcasters. After only four months on
the air, Croatia pulled the plug on Yutel over a sensitive story
on Slavonia, and most other republics followed suit. As the coup
de grace, Serbian nationalist thugs trashed Yutel's Belgrade office.(61)
Thus, the ability of republican government leaders to manipulate
the mass media reflected the collapse of the multi-national Yugoslav
state.
However, the ethnic segmentation of the media market cannot be
blamed entirely on republican governments. Journalists and scholars
also played the ethnic card, in some cases well before Milosevic.
Many Serbian intellectuals were obsessed with the Albanian threat
in Kosovo even before Milosevic began his media campaign on the
issue. In 1986, for example, a large number of prominent members
of the Serbian Academy of Sciences published a memorandum on the
"genocide" being perpetrated against Serbs in Kosovo. This document
was condemned by the Serbian Central Committee and the mainstream
Belgrade press, still operating under traditional Yugoslav norms
of comity between ethnic groups, though Milosevic urged them to
keep the condemnation secret. Some of these nationalist intellectuals
and a portion of the Serbian journalistic community may have been
acting partly out of sincere concerns. But in the view of some
analysts, these intellectuals saw the Kosovo issue as a vehicle
for breaking down communist limitations on intellectual freedom
and for press "liberalization."(62) This reflected the necessity
for all Yugoslav elites to reposition themselves on a new foundation
of ideological legitimacy in the context of the waning of centralized
communist authority. In this setting, the professional journalistic
community split, some choosing the nationalist route and energetically
aiding the Milosevic takeover, some resisting it and ultimately
being forced out.(63) Mark Thompson of the journalism NGO Article
19, though generally a strong partisan of Yugoslavia's independent
journalists, describes the Milosevic takeover in the fall of 1987
as "a collusion among Serbia's Communist politicians, its bureaucracy,
its intellectual class, and its news media."(64)
Thus, organized forces in "civil society," no less than in government,
saw the benefits of the strategy of monopolizing media control
within a market niche. They were sometimes even willing to conspire
explicitly with the ethnic archfoe to accomplish it. For example,
after Serb, Croat, and Muslim nationalist parties emerged as the
winners of Bosnia's 1991 elections, the three nationalist foes
tried to collude to divide up among them the assets of Bosnia's
integrated, civic television service, and to exclude the moderate
parties of their respective ethnic groups.(65)
The success of media propaganda depended both on monopoly of
supply and also on the nature of demand, including the plausibility
of the message in light of consumers' predispositions. Some propaganda
campaigns were strikingly successful. For example, the Serbs enjoyed
a six-month period of television monopoly in northern Bosnia,
which they used to prime their population for the 1992 campaign
of "ethnic cleansing" by repeatedly charging that Muslims were
plotting to establish an Islamic fundamentalist state. Later,
Serbs guarding prison camps accused their Muslim captives of precisely
the charges that had been reiterated on the news. Similarly, as
a result of Serb propaganda, 38 percent of Belgrade residents
in a July 1992 poll thought that it was the Muslim-Croat forces
who had recently been shelling the Bosnian capital of Sarajevo,
versus only 20 percent who knew it had been the Serbs.(66) However,
viewers refused to swallow every lie whole. When the popular nationalist
Vuk Draskovic mounted a mass anti-war rally in March 1991, the
government-controlled media's attempts to portray him as in league
with the Croats and Albanians fizzled as too implausible. The
following year, only 8 percent of Serbian respondents thought
that state television kept them "well informed," versus 43 percent
for the independent media.(67)
Thus, the impact of the supply of nationalist propaganda must
be assessed in light of the demand for it. As Mark Thompson put
it: "People's bedrock attitudes toward the wars in Croatia and
Bosnia are not created by the state media; rather, the media play
variations upon those attitudes, which derive from other sources
(national history, family background, education, oral culture).
Media did not inject their audiences with anti-Muslim prejudice
or exploitable fear of Croatian nationalism. The prejudice and
fear were widespread, latently at least; there was a predisposition
to believe 'news' which elicited and exploited the prejudice;
without the media, however, Serbia's leaders could not have obtained
public consent and approval of its nationalist politics."(68)
The importance of underlying predispositions is demonstrated
by comparing the propaganda strategies that Milosevic tailored
for the Serbs and those Tudjman adopted for the Croats. Belgrade
television portrayed the Serbs as always on the defensive, the
perennial victims of every battle. Dead Serbs were favored imagery.
This was thought to strike the right chord in a people who glorify
a defeat at the hands of the Turks half a millennium ago in the
battle of Kosovo. In contrast, government propaganda directives
told Croatian television to soft-pedal defeats, never show footage
of destroyed Croat towns, and "always finish such reports with
optimistic declarations and avowals."(69) The government feared
that Croats, lacking as firm a tradition of statehood as the Serbs
had, might simply give up hope if they knew the odds they faced.
What was lacking in the Yugoslav case was not just free speech,
but strong institutions to counteract market imperfections and
to promote a professional, unbiased, pan-Yugoslav mass media.
Standard antidotes to state power would have been of doubtful
effectiveness in this case, even though it is true that media
monopolies in the hands of republican governments caused most
of the damage. Federalism, that standard remedy for constraining
state exploitation of ethnic minorities, was in fact one of the
main problems. Moreover, "consociational" power-sharing, which
is often prescribed as a complement to federalism, was also troublesome.
In the Bosnian media, for example, the practice of allotting equal
time for each group's biases made the evening news a series of
stories with different slants, while the true story of the Yugoslav
army's role in the attacks on Sarajevo, for example, was suppressed
as a violation of consociational comity.(70) Likewise, providing
piecemeal subsidies to individual newspapers in the capital city,
as the International Federation of Journalists did for Borba,
failed to go to the heart of the problem, since the backbone of
support for nationalism lay in the Serb countryside, where Milosevic's
media monopoly was uncontested. Finally, simply prescribing maximum
freedom of speech would have been unavailing, given the inclinations
and the capacity of various elite strata, both inside and outside
the government, to exploit the population's predispositions to
ethnic anxiety.
Rwandan Hate Radio
The 1994 mass murder of some 800,000 Tutsi and moderate Hutu
organized by extremist Hutu in top circles of the Rwandan government
is another case that may seem to fit the Human Rights Watch analysis
perfectly. Officials of the authoritarian regime of President
Juvenal Habyarimana, feeling their power endangered, used their
monopoly control of mass media and university appointments to
create a "finely tuned propaganda machine" that played on Hutu
fears of the former Tutsi elite and purveyed false, inflammatory
versions of the history of relations between the two groups. In
April 1994, the Hutu official clique unleashed militias trained
in the techniques of genocide. Independent journalists were a
special target in the first wave of the killings. At the same
time, Radio-Television Libre des Mille Collines, a pseudo-private
station established by Habyarimana's wife, spread the word that
Tutsi rebels were about to rise up and kill Hutu, and consequently
that all Hutu should join the militias in a campaign of preventive
killing. Militias threatened to kill Hutu who did not participate
in the genocide, so it is difficult to judge how much of the killing
was triggered by the radio propaganda per se.(71) Nonetheless,
all sources agree that the hate broadcasts played a significant
role in the second phase of the killing, after the initial militia
sweeps. Holly Burkhalter, the Washington director of Human Rights
Watch, argued that jamming the hate radio was "the one action
that, in retrospect, might have done the most to save Rwandan
lives." The radios instead withdrew from the advancing Tutsi army
into the safe haven of the French army zone, where they continued
to broadcast.(72)
NGOs such as Human Rights Watch and Africa Rights, as well as
many independent scholars, drew the lesson that the international
community needs to encourage Rwanda and Burundi to democratize,
to foster an independent press, and to bring the perpetrators
of genocide to justice.(73) However, upon closer examination,
their prescriptions are contradicted by their own highly persuasive
analyses of the causes of the Rwandan genocide. After the genocide,
NGOs continue to advocate precisely those measures that their
analyses show to have triggered the killings: an increase in political
pluralism, the prospect of trials of the guilty, and the promotion
of anti-government media.(74)
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, falling coffee prices and
economic disruptions caused by fighting with Uganda-based Tutsi
rebels put the Habyarimana regime on the defensive. Under intense
pressure from the domestic Hutu opposition and from international
aid donors, the regime agreed under the 1993 Arusha Accords to
a limited political opening, involving power-sharing with opposition
groups, the legalization of numerous opposition political parties
calling for democratic elections and, as an Africa Rights report
puts it, "an explosion in the number of newspapers and journals"
published by anti-government groups after the abandonment of the
press monopoly in July 1990.(75) "A vibrant press had been born
almost overnight," says Gerard Prunier, but its biased commentary
was written "in terrible bad faith."(76) Hutu extremists attached
to the regime continued to monopolize the radio, a key asset among
a population that was 60 percent illiterate. After a Tutsi rebel
attack on the capital in 1993 was parried only with the help of
French troops, Habyarimana had no alternative but to accept the
Arusha agreement, which provided for Tutsi participation in government,
a rebel military unit to provide security for Tutsi politicians
in the capital, and the exclusion of Hutu extremists from the
joint Hutu-Tutsi government. Moderate Hutu from southern Rwanda,
where "Hutu" and "Tutsi" were racially almost indistinguishable,
began to mobilize politically against Hutu extremists in the government
clique and their northern Rwanda social base.(77)
As part of the settlement, an international commission named
names of highly placed Hutu extremists who were complicit in small-scale
killings of Tutsi. "Individuals named were promised an amnesty,"
says Africa Rights's Alex de Waal, "but knew that their actions
were under scrutiny," and so distrusted these guarantees. Human
rights groups were active in this period of internationally sponsored
power-sharing and pluralization. "Rwanda had one of the most vigorous
human-rights movements in Africa," says de Waal. "Six independent
human rights organizations cooperated in exposing abuses by government
and rebel forces."(78)
In this setting, the clique around Habyarimana had every reason
to fear democratization and calls for justice from the international
community. To forestall a fall from power and judicial accountability,
these officials developed the plan for a mass genocide. "The extremists'
aim," says Africa Rights, "was for the entire Hutu populace to
participate in the killing. That way, the blood of genocide would
stain everybody. There could be no going back for the Hutu population."(79)
But there was a flaw in this plan. Habyarimana, heavily dependent
on foreign aid to prop up his system of official patronage, balked
at implementing a bloodbath that he knew would cut him off from
foreign funds. The president's extremist allies in the military
and security services had no such qualms. From January to March
1994, their unofficial journal Kangura, an example of the "flowering"
of Rwandan media in the period of pluralism and incipient power-sharing,
warned Habyarimana not to flinch from the destruction of the Tutsi
and predicted with astonishing accuracy the details of his assassination:(8)
Habyarimana was killed in April by his own presidential guard
upon returning from a meeting at Dar Es Salaam where he made renewed
concessions to international donors, the UN, and the Organization
of African Unity. As de Waal aptly states, "Habyarimana was a
victim of the international peace industry."(81)
Despite the clear evidence that NGO analysts themselves recite,
they fail to acknowledge that the very solutions they continue
to promote are the same as the steps that caused the killings.
Human Rights Watch correctly notes that the "free and fair" election
of Burundi's first Hutu president in October 1993 set the stage
for the killing of some 50,000 Hutu and Tutsi. The Tutsi military,
fearing that the elected government's power-sharing scheme would
neutralize the army as a security guarantee for the Tutsi minority,
launched a coup to protect its monopoly of force, touching off
a series of reprisals. Yet Human Rights Watch urges democratic
accountability and prosecution of the killers "to deter further
slaughter," despite the fact that it was precisely the threat
of such accountability that provoked the slaughter in Rwanda and
Burundi in the first place.(82)
Both the Rwanda and Burundi cases show that the ideals of democratic
rights, uncompromising justice, and free speech must make pragmatic
accommodations to recalcitrant reality. Recognizing this, Reporters
sans Frontieres warns that the "error committed in Rwanda, which
consisted of applying the rule of 'laissez faire' in the name
of the principle of liberty of the press, must not be repeated
in Burundi." While working to reconstitute the private news media
in both countries and to bring journalists implicated in the genocide
campaign to justice, the French NGO acknowledges that the thirteen
newspapers that it is helping in Rwanda are short on personnel,
paper, and facilities; have a circulation under 1,000 each; cost
a day's wage to buy one issue; and consist primarily of opinions,
not news. Realistically skeptical about some of the journalists
it supports, Reporters sans Frontieres conditions aid on a pledge
to forswear ethnic hate speech. In Burundi, Reporters sans Frontieres
notes the paradox that many journalists working under a new law
on press freedom are calling for an ethnic dictatorship that would
shut down non-official expression of views. Since the invisible
hand of the marketplace of ideas is so unreliable in such circumstances,
Reporters sans Frontieres relies also on the visible hand of two
international radio stations broadcasting into Rwanda and Burundi
from Zaire.(83)
Conditions for Successful Liberalization of the Marketplace
of Ideas
In numerous recent cases, such as South Africa, increases in
press freedom and democratic participation in politics spawned
no sanguinary outbursts of nationalism. Historically, Britain
democratized and evolved a free press without developing German-style
populist nationalism. These cases had better outcomes because
their elites had weaker motivations to propound nationalist myths,
because their markets were not as segmented, or because effective
institutions of free debate were in place before the democratization
of political participation. If elites believe that the expansion
of free speech and democratic participation poses little threat
to their interests, nationalism will be moderate. This pattern
suggests that activists should target their efforts at patiently
putting in place these preconditions of constructive public discourse,
rather than clamoring for no-holds-barred press freedom across
the board. Institutional foundations of free debate are achieved
either by historical evolution or by conscious design, not instantaneously
by the invisible hand of competition.
The paradigm-setting case for these conditions is Great Britain.
England did fight an intense civil war in the seventeenth century
shortly after a dramatic increase in the number of newspapers
and the freedom of political expression in them.(84) However,
by the dawn of the age of mass nationalism in the late eighteenth
and early nineteenth centuries, Britain had already achieved a
set of well-established norms of free speech among wide circles
of the elite. The decisive move to end censorship in Britain came
at the beginning of the eighteenth century, at a time when the
political position of the Whig aristocracy was at its strongest
and the proportion of the British population who could vote in
parliamentary elections was actually declining. In that same era,
Britain's integration of the Scottish and Welsh peoples into a
centralized state before the era of mass democracy prevented ethnic
segmentation of the market, at least in the core of the realm.(85)
By the mid-nineteenth century, when the penny press and the expansion
of the electoral franchise further widened the scope of political
debate to include the middle class, existing journalistic institutions
and norms of debate provided a structure to channel and regulate
the exchange of ideas. Moreover, Britain's traditional ruling
class shared many commercial interests with the rising middle
class, and so had little reason to "play the nationalist card"
to forestall democratic policies like the repeal of tariffs on
imported food. In a limited way, some aristocratic demagogues,
most notably Lord Palmerston on the eve of the Crimean War, succeeded
in diverting public opinion away from political reform towards
a foreign policy of nationalist expansion, but these adventures
were moderate in scope. Though Britain conquered vast portions
of the globe, it generally did so in a cost-conscious way: it
appeased foes strategically, pulled back from overcommitments,
and never placed its nationalism beyond the pale of rational discussion
weighing the costs and benefits of imperial policies.(86)
Several contemporary success cases of relatively peaceful democratization
and media liberalization share one or more of these characteristics
of the British case: that is, guarantees of the interests of powerful
elites, no ethnic segmentation of the market, or thorough institutionalization
of the marketplace of ideas before democratization. Indeed, some
of these moderate cases are former British colonies, which inherited
along with the English language a tradition of professionalized
journalism from the colonial period. One factor in the smooth
South African transition, for example, was the well-established
English-language opposition press, exemplified by the Rand Daily
Mail and its successors, which for decades had been consistently
more liberal than many of its readers.(87) The political opening
in the 1990s permitted the English-language press to report more
freely, and a new black press was funded by churches and through
Danish and Norwegian subsidies. Television and especially print
news, already staffed with a professional cadre, moved quickly
toward international norms. This allowed the divisions between
Afrikaner, English, and black media that had prevailed under apartheid
to be overcome rapidly.(88) Moreover, Nelson Mandela's moderate
rhetoric reassured whites about the consequences of free speech,
as does their residual power to veto threatening developments.
India is another case in which a balanced marketplace of ideas
was well institutionalized long before the transition to democratic
politics, and in which the central ruling elite saw its interests
as served by moderate, secular policies rather than divisive,
ethno-communal ones. By the turn of the century, the English-language
Indian press was already able to use the pressure of open public
debate to constrain the non-elected British regime's policies.(89)
By the time of independence, a number of highly professional,
major urban newspapers had developed a voluntary press code for
reporting on communal riots, which abjured inflammatory headlines,
refrained from specifying casualty figures during the heat of
the moment, scrupulously cited sources, and dug for accurate information
on the causes of riots. These informal codes were institutionalized
in the Press Council, modeled on its British forebear. The Council
was given the same statutory powers to investigate violations
as a civil court.(90) Smaller, partisan papers sometimes inflamed
communal tensions, however, and during the 1947 riots a restrictive
press ordinance with pre-publication censorship was temporarily
adopted.(91) In provincial towns, publishers and journalists are
highly dependent on the support of local business elites, and
expedience often gets in the way of truth in reporting on communal
tensions. The vernacular (i.e., non-English) press commonly circulates
false reports, inflated death figures, and unevaluated statements
by communal leaders. This gap between the restrained, professional,
state-wide press and the inflammatory communal press has been
growing over the past two decades, as a result of economic change
and the growth of literacy in provincial areas.(92) Social change,
sharply rising newspaper readership, and the emergence of a local
intelligentsia has played a central role in reigniting communal
conflict in Kashmir, for example.(93)
In the heyday of the Congress Party's centralized, secular leadership,
local Congress notables kept a short leash on the expression of
communal prejudices. In the 1970s, however, Indira Gandhi sought
to free herself from Congress's grassroots organizational structure
through direct appeals not only to religious groups, but also
to increasingly politicized lower-caste and lower-class segments
of Indian society. As Human Rights Watch argues correctly, these
segmental appeals touched off an increasing communalization of
Indian politics.(94) However, the problem nowadays is hardly that
the central, secular elites, including the elite media, are too
demagogic, but that their power was weakened vis-a-vis nationalist
challengers by the de-institutionalization of the Congress Party.
In other contemporary cases, the nationalist dogs are not barking
because old elites have found a safe haven in the new regime.
In many of the democratizing post-communist states of Eastern
Europe, former apparatchiks have profited from the privatization
of industry, attracted a mass constituency based on appeals to
economic security rather than nationalism, and still rule many
of these countries. Likewise, in Latin America, former military
elites have been given "golden parachutes," and journalistic institutions
were already well established as the result of earlier periods
of democratization.(95)
Prescriptions for an Integrated Marketplace of Ideas
Democratization and free speech can be made compatible with ethnic
harmony and the moderation of nationalist sentiment only under
favorable conditions of supply, demand, and institutional regulation.
If these conditions do not exist, they need to be created before,
or at least along with, the unfettering of speech and political
participation.
On the supply side, the international community may be needed
to help break up information monopolies, especially in states
with very weak journalistic traditions and a weak civil society.
In Cambodia, for example, the UN's successful media and information
program was designed, according to the UN commander, to "bypass
the propaganda of the Cambodian factions" by directly disseminating
information about the elections.(96) The breakup of monopoly power
over politics and discourse must coincide, however, with measures
to reduce elites' incentives for nationalist mythmaking or to
eliminate their capacity to make trouble. As our cases show, it
is reckless for the international community to threaten elites
with across-the-board exposure and prosecution of past crimes,
unless there exists the will and capability to render harmless
the likely backlash from elites that are pushed to the wall. Otherwise,
elites that are potentially threatened by democratization and
the end of censorship should be guaranteed a soft landing in the
emerging open society. Many Latin American and East European countries
have done well by keeping prosecutions limited. In contrast, fine
moral declarations without effective actions are the worst possible
policy.
On the demand side, ethnically segmented markets should be counteracted
by the promotion of civic-territorial conceptions of national
identity, as in Ukraine. Inclusive national identities can be
fostered through an integrative press, which expresses a variety
of outlooks on the same pages. All too often, international aid
goes to the opposition press in democratizing countries regardless
of its journalistic quality, on the grounds that creating a pluralism
of voices is the essential objective. In Romania, for example,
the U.S. Agency for International Development has subsidized anti-government
newspapers that fail to meet even the most minimal standards of
accuracy in reporting.(97) Instead, aid should go to forums that
present varied ideas, not a single line, in a setting that fosters
effective interchange and factual accuracy. In post-1945 Germany,
for example, American occupiers licensing newspapers showed a
strong preference for editorial teams whose members spanned diverse
political orientations.(98) This approach extends Donald Horowitz's
critique of Arend Lijphart's strategy of "consociational" representation
of communal power blocs into the realm of public discourse. Whereas
Lijphart's approach rewards politicians who mobilize support along
ethnic lines, Horowitz advises electoral rules that reward vote-pooling,
in order to promote cross-ethnic political alliances and to break
down the communal segmentation of politics. Applying Horowitz's
principles to the marketplace of ideas, we counsel idea-pooling
through integrative public forums, to break down the intellectual
boundaries between ethnically exclusive "imagined communities."(99)
For this reason, we urge NGOs and other aid donors to reconsider
projects to provide ethnic minorities with their "own" media.(100)
Instead, we suggest supporting media that strive to attract a
politically and ethnically diverse audience, invite the expression
of various viewpoints, and hold news stories to rigorous standards
of objectivity. This can be done by expanding existing NGO programs
to train journalists from newly democratizing countries, such
as those of the International Press Institute in Vienna,(101)
and by providing quality news organizations with equipment, subsidized
newsprint, or other logistical support. Special efforts should
be made to encompass the regional and local press in these efforts.
In case after case - Weimar, Germany, India, Sri Lanka, and contemporary
Russia - key vehicles of nationalist mythmaking have been face-to-face
networks and rough-hewn periodicals. To provide an effective alternative
to these, media projects should focus on the inclusion of local
journalists in the activities of state-wide media associations,
mid-career training sabbaticals for grassroots journalists, and
financial subsidies to make a high quality local press independent
and affordable.
Major efforts should be made to promote the institutionalization
of effective norms of elite discourse, journalistic professionalism,
and independent evaluative bodies before the full opening of mass
political participation. Whenever possible, market imperfections
should be counteracted by decentralized institutions, not centralized
regulatory directives, and by the promotion of norms of fair debate,
not by restrictions on the content of speech. In some cases, however,
certain kinds of constraints on speech may be necessary in multiethnic
societies while these institutions are being built. This may be
ethically uncomfortable for Western liberals; moreover, it is
politically difficult to design constraints on democracy and free
speech that do not play into the hands of elites who want to squelch
freedom entirely. When electoral polarization touched off communal
riots in Malaysia in 1969, for example, Malay elites banned public
discussion of ethnic issues and imposed a regime of ethnic coexistence
that insured Malay political domination and economic prosperity
for the Chinese business community. After a quarter-century of
tight press controls, the uneasy communal peace still holds, but
this interlude, which might have been used to prepare an institutional
infrastructure for a more durable, democratic solution, has been
squandered.(102)
Neither the ethnic strife unleashed by unchecked democratization
in cases like Sri Lanka nor the temporary, repressive communal
cease-fire in cases like Malaysia is desirable. One element of
a better solution is for international donors to offer incentives
to political and economic to elites to prepare the institutionalization
of open discourse, while tolerating some limits on free expression,
including limits on ethnic hate speech, in the short run. Another
element is direct aid to professionalize those elements of the
media that are attempting to create a integrated forum for responsible,
accurate debate. But when these remedies are unavailing, those
who value both unfettered speech and peace must, without illusions,
assess the tradeoff between them.
We thank Fiona Adamson, Laura Belin, Mark Blyth, V.P. Gagnon,
Sumit Ganguly, Robert Jervis, Arvid Lukauskas, Edward Mansfield,
Anthony Marx, Helen Milner, Alexander Motyl, Anne Nelson, Bruce
Pannier, Laura Pitter, Ronald Rogowski, Aaron Seeskin, Robert
Shapiro, Kevin Smead, Stephen Van Evera, Robin Varghese, and Leslie
Vinjamuri for helpful comments or other assistance, and the Harry
Frank Guggenheim Foundation, the Institute for the Study of World
Politics, and the Pew Charitable Trusts for financial support.
1. Human Rights Watch, Playing the "Communal Card" (New York:
Human Rights Watch, April 1995), reprinted as Slaughter among
Neighbors: The Political Origins of Communal Violence (New Haven,
Conn.: Yale University Press, 1995); Human Rights Watch, "'Hate
Speech' and Freedom of Expression," Free Expression Project, Vol.
4, No. 3 (March 1992); see also Leonard Sussman, Press Freedom
1996: The Journalist as Pariah (New York: Freedom House, 1996);
Article 19, the International Centre Against Censorship, Guidelines
for Election Broadcasting in Transitional Democracies (London:
Article 19, August 1994).
2. Eric Hobsbawm, "Mass Producing Traditions," in Hobsbawm and
Terence Ranger, eds., The Invention of Tradition (Cambridge, U.K.:
Cambridge University Press, 1983), pp. 263-307; Eric Hobsbawm,
Nations and Nationalism since 1780 (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge
University Press, 1990), pp. 80-100, 141-142; Stephen Van Evera,
"Hypotheses on Nationalism and War," International Security, Vol.
18, No. 4 (Spring 1994), pp. 26-33; Paul Kennedy, "The Decline
of Nationalistic History in the West, 1900-1970," Journal of Contemporary
History, Vol. 8, No. 1 (January 1973), pp. 77-100. V.P. Gagnon,
Jr., "Ethnic Conflict as Demobilizer: The Case of Serbia," Institute
for European Studies Working Paper No. 96.1 (Cornell University,
May 1996), argues that propaganda does not mobilize popular nationalism,
but rather that ethnic conflict and media control demobilizes
opposition to the regime.
3. Van Evera, "Hypotheses," p. 37; V.P. Gagnon, Jr., "Ethnic
Nationalism and International Conflict: The Case of Serbia," International
Security, Vol. 19, No. 3 (Winter 1994/95), pp. 130-166, at 165.
4. Van Evera, "Hypotheses," p. 33. Human Rights Watch, Playing
the "Communal Card," p. viii, points this out, but disregards
it when drawing conclusions. According to Freedom House's ratings,
civil liberties, which include freedom of speech, improved in
Yugoslavia, Rwanda, and Burundi shortly before the recent outbreaks
of massive ethnic violence there. Raymond Gastil and R. Bruce
McColm, eds., Freedom in the World (New York: Freedom House, 1988-93),
pp. 411-412 (1988), 272-274 (1989-90), 104-105, 313-315 (1990-91),
and 153-155, 429-431 (1992-93).
5. Van Evera, "Hypotheses," p. 33. In mature democracies, government
policy is made by officials chosen through free and fair elections
on the basis of wide suffrage; the actions of officials are constrained
by constitutional provisions and commitments to civil liberties;
and government candidates sometimes lose elections, and leave
office when they do. We define states as democratizing if they
have recently adopted some of these democratic characteristics,
even if they retain important non-democratic features. See Edward
D. Mansfield and Jack Snyder, "Democratization and the Danger
of War," International Security, Vol. 20, No. 1 (Summer 1995),
pp. 8-10. On the gap between institutions and participation, see
Samuel Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies (New
Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1968).
6. R.H. Coase, "The Market for Goods and the Market for Ideas,"
American Economic Review, Vol. 64, No. 2 (May 1974), pp. 384-391,
argues that imperfect markets for ideas are in no less need of
regulation than imperfect markets for goods. On the benefits of
gag rules in ethnically or religiously divided societies undergoing
democratization, see Stephen Holmes, Passions and Constraint:
On the Theory of Liberal Democracy (Chicago: University of Chicago,
1995), chapter 7, esp. pp. 206-213.
7. The impact of Hitler's oratory before his rise to power was
mainly in motivating supporters who were already predisposed toward
his outlook. Few people heard him on the radio until after he
had been elected chancellor. Ian Kershaw, "Ideology, Propaganda,
and the Rise of the Nazi Party," in Peter Stachura, ed., The Nazi
Machtergreifung (London: Allen & Unwin, 1983), pp. 162-181;
Thomas Childers, "The Social Language of Politics in Germany:
The Sociology of Political Discourse in the Weimar Republic,"
American Historical Review, Vol. 95, No. 2 (April 1990), pp. 331-358.
8. T.C.W. Blanning, The Origins of the French Revolutionary Wars
(London: Longman, 1986), p. 113; Jeremy Popkin, Revolutionary
News: The Press in France, 1789-1799 (Durham, N.C.: Duke University
Press, 1990), p. 41.
9. Rakiya Omaar and Alex de Waal, Africa Rights, Rwanda: Death,
Despair and Defiance (London: Africa Rights, September 1994, exp.
ed., 1995, all page references to 1994 ed.); Mark Thompson, Article
19, Forging War: The Media in Serbia, Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina
(London: Article 19, May 1994).
10. Human Rights Watch, Playing the "Communal Card," pp. viii,
xiv.
11. Thus, the Indian Congress government was outflanked by the
nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party, the Israeli Labor government
by Likud, South Africa's De Klerk government by irreconcilable
Afrikaners, Romania's Iliescu government by the anti-Hungarian
nationalist party, the Sri Lankan government by grassroots Buddhist
organizations, Serbia's Slobodan Milosevic by Vojislav Seselj,
the Syrian-backed Lebanese government by leaders of the various
communal groups, Russian President Boris Yeltsin by Vladimir Zhirinovsky,
the moderate Armenian government of Levon Ter-Petrosian by the
nationalist Dashnaks, and the inert Azerbaijani government of
Ayaz Mutalibov by the ethno-populist Abulfez Elchibey. Human Rights
Watch's own study often acknowledges this phenomenon, but blames
the government for weakly resisting these pressures. Playing the
"Communal Card," p. 28.
12. Human Rights Watch, Playing the "Communal Card," xiv, xvii.
For a more nuanced NGO view, see Bruce Allyn and Steven Wilkinson,
Guidelines for Journalists Covering Ethnic Conflict (Cambridge,
Mass.: Conflict Management Working Paper, January 1994).
13. Pierre Birnbaum, States and Collective Action (Cambridge,
U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1988), pp. 39-40; Peter Fritzsche,
Rehearsals for Fascism: Populism and Political Mobilization in
Weimar Germany (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990), p. 75.
Robert Putnam, Making Democracy Work (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
University Press, 1993), fails to address the Weimar case.
14. Larry Diamond, "Rethinking Civil Society: Toward Democratic
Consolidation," Journal of Democracy, Vol. 5, No. 3 (September
1994), pp. 5-6; Steven Fish, "Russia's Fourth Transition," Journal
of Democracy, Vol. 5, No. 3 (September 1994), pp. 31-33.
15. Ernest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell
University Press, 1983), chap. 1.
16. Although narrower definitions are in principle preferable,
we adopt a broader definition that includes both state-seeking
ethnic nationalism and nationalism in comparatively homogeneous,
established states, on the grounds that our theory illuminates
a dynamic that occurs equally in both types of case. On the relative
merits of broad versus narrow definitions of nationalism, see
Alexander Motyl, "The Modernity of Nationalism," Journal of International
Affairs, Vol. 45, No. 2 (Winter 1992), pp. 307-324.
17. Similarly, John Zaller, The Nature and Origins of Mass Opinion
(Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1992), p. 313, defines
"elite domination" of opinion as "a situation in which elites
induce citizens to hold opinions that they would not hold if aware
of the best available information and analysis."
18. Quoted in Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism, p. 12.
19. Anthony D. Smith, The Ethnic Origins of Nations (Oxford,
U.K.: Blackwell, 1986), pp. 15, 24; John Armstrong, Nations before
Nationalism (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press,
1982).
20. Miroslav Hroch, Social Preconditions of National Revival
in Europe (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1985),
pp. 11-13; Elie Kedourie, Nationalism (London: Hutchinson, 1960).
21. However, where democratic norms are intimately bound to national
self-conceptions, nationalism may in fact support peaceful democracy
by promoting loyalty to civic institutions. See Victor Zaslavsky,
"Nationalism and Democratic Transition in Postcommunist Societies,"
Daedalus, Vol. 12, No. 2 (Spring 1992), pp. 97-122; Rogers Brubaker,
Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany (Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard University Press, 1992), chaps. 2 and 5.
22. Van Evera, "Hypotheses," pp. 26-33; Jack Snyder, Myths of
Empire (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1991), pp. 5-6.
23. We define perfect competition in the marketplace of ideas,
which exists only as an ideal type, as a situation of no monopolies
of information or media access, low barriers to entry, full exposure
of all consumers to the full range of ideas, the confrontation
of ideas in common forums, and public scrutiny of factual and
causal claims by knowledgeable experts. On the benefits of a free
market of ideas, see John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (Cambridge,
U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1989), part 2. Mill himself
argued only that unconstrained debate was a guarantee that superior
ideas would not be permanently suppressed; even he did not contend
that the invisible hand of competition would automatically lead
to the victory of the best idea, let alone of truth.
24. Stephen Van Evera, "Primed For Peace: Europe after the Cold
War," International Security, Vol. 15, No. 3 (Winter 1990/91),
p. 27.
25. Gary Becker, "A Theory of Competition among Pressure Groups
for Political Influence," Quarterly Journal of Economics, Vol.
98, No. 3 (August 1983), pp. 371-400.
26. Our conception of the free marketplace of ideas includes
features commonly ascribed to "civil society" and Jurgen Habermas's
notion of "the public sphere." Like civil society, of which it
is part, the free marketplace requires a legally sanctioned societal
capacity for voluntary and autonomous organization. Like the "public
sphere," a well-functioning marketplace is characterized by a
public debate in which rational arguments are more decisive than
appeals to tradition or the status of actors. However, whereas
both civil society and the public sphere are typically conceived
as exclusively non-state realms of activity, the marketplace of
ideas embraces both state and non-state actors, focusing on their
discursive and institutional interaction. Craig Calhoun, "Civil
Society and The Public Sphere," Public Culture, Vol. 5, No. 2
(Winter 1993), pp. 267-280; Jurgen Habermas, The Structural Transformation
of the Public Sphere (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1989).
27. Becker, "A Theory of Competition," p. 392.
28. Ideas may also serve as signals of commitment, staking suppliers'
reputation on their promise to deliver on a policy pledge. For
example, nationalists may choose to enhance their credibility
with their supporters through extremist rhetoric that burns bridges
to alternative constituencies.
29. Paul Samuelson, Economics, 15th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill,
1995), chaps. 9-10, esp. p. 152; Edwin Mansfield, Microeconomics,
4th ed. (New York: Norton, 1982), chaps. 11-12, esp. pp. 323,
344-346, 353-355; James W. Friedman, Oligopoly Theory (Cambridge,
U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1983), pp. 138-145; Robert Kuenne,
The Economics of Oligopolistic Competition (Oxford, U.K.: Blackwell,
1992), pp. 469-476.
30. Richard Leftwich and Ross Eckert, The Price System and Resource
Allocation, 9th ed. (Chicago: Dryden, 1985), p. 407. The same
uncertainty that fuels rivalrous behavior in a "young industry"
typically characterizes periods of democratization and, in the
absence of shared norms or effective enforcement mechanisms, often
produces the same results. See Adam Przeworski, Democracy and
the Market (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1991).
31. Ellen Mickiewicz, Split Signals: Television and Politics
in The Soviet Union (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988);
Allyn and Wilkinson, Guidelines for Journalists, pp. 17-18; Ithiel
de Sola Pool, "Communication in Totalitarian Societies," in Ithiel
de Sola Pool Wilbur Schramm, et al., Handbook of Communication
(Chicago: Rand McNally, 1973), pp. 462-511.
32. Stanislav Andreski, "On the Peaceful Disposition of Military
Dictatorships," Journal of Strategic Studies, Vol. 3, No. 3 (December
1980), pp. 3-10.
33. Robert B. Holtman, Napoleonic Propaganda (Baton Rouge: Louisiana
State University Press, 1950); Richard Smethurst, A Social Basis
for Prewar Japanese Militarism (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1974); on the role of the Japanese press in promoting nationalism
and empire, see John A. Lent, ed., Newspapers in Asia (Hong Kong:
Heineman Asia, 1982), pp. 103, 106-108; on the nationalist rhetoric
of the increasingly free Argentine press on the eve of the Falklands
War, see Richard Ned Lebow, "Miscalculation in the South Atlantic,"
in Robert Jervis et al., Psychology and Deterrence (Baltimore,
Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1985), pp. 98-99.
34. Modris Eksteins, The Limits of Reason: The German Democratic
Press and the Collapse of Weimar Democracy (London: Oxford University
Press, 1975).
35. Laura Silber and Allan Little, Yugoslavia: Death of a Nation
(New York: TV Books, 1996), pp. 38-39.
36. Brett Fairbairn, "Interpreting Wilhelmine Elections: National
Issues, Fairness Issues, and Electoral Mobilization," in Larry
Eugene Jones and James Retallack, eds., Elections, Mass Politics,
and Social Change in Modern Germany (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge
University Press, 1992), pp. 20-23; Robert J. Goldstein, Political
Repression in Nineteenth Century Europe (London: Croom Helm, 1983),
p. 39; Dirk Stegmann, "Between Economic Interests and Radical
Nationalism," in Larry Eugene Jones and James Retallack, eds.,
Between Reform, Reaction, and Resistance: Studies in the History
of German Conservatism from 1789 to 1945 (Providence, R.I.: Berg,
1993), pp. 173, 183; Geoff Eley, Reshaping the German Right (New
Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1980), pp. 140-147.
37. On the latter point, see Karen Barkey, "Consequences of Empire,"
in Karen Barkey and Mark von Hagen, eds., After Empire: Multi-Ethnic
Societies and Nation-Building (Boulder, Colo.: Westview, forthcoming
1997). On the contending discourses of class and nation, see Ronald
Suny, The Revenge of the Past (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University
Press, 1993).
38. Gerard Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis: History of a Genocide
(New York: Columbia University Press, 1995), p. 140.
39. On market segmentation in the Russian case, see Laura Belin,
"Russia: Wrestling Political and Financial Repression," ibid.,
pp. 59-63; Victor Davidoff, "Regional Press Fights Political Control,"
ibid., p. 65; Laurie Wilson, "Communication and Russia: Evolving
Media in a Changing Society," Social Science Journal, Vol. 32,
No. 1 (January 1995), p. 113.
40. For related arguments, see Edward S. Herman and Noam Chomsky,
Manufacturing Consent (New York: Pantheon, 1988).
41. Eksteins, Limits of Reason, pp. 80-81; Thomas Childers, The
Nazi Voter (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1983),
pp. 157-159.
42. Richard Bessel, "The Formation and Dissolution of a German
National Electorate," in Larry Eugene Jones and James Retallack,
eds., Elections, Mass Politics, and Social Change in Modern Germany
(Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1992), pp. 404,
412-413; Peter Fritzsche, "Weimar Populism and National Socialism
in Local Perspective," in Jones and Retallack, Elections, pp.
301-304; Wolfgang Mommsen, "Government without Parties," in Jones
and Retallack, Between Reform, Reaction, and Resistance, pp. 359,
372.
43. E.J. Feuchtwanger, From Weimar to Hitler (London: Macmillan,
1993), pp. 298, 313-314. On the negative effects of unmodified
proportional representation systems like Weimar's in fragmented
polities, see Donald Horowitz, A Democratic South Africa? Constitutional
Engineering in a Divided Society (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1991), pp. 166-176.
44. Childers, "The Social Language of Politics in Germany," pp.
331-358; Laura Belin, "Ultranationalist Parties Follow Disparate
Paths," Transition, Vol. 1, No. 1 (June 23, 1995), pp. 8-12; Jerry
F. Hough, Evelyn Davidheiser, and Susan Goodrich Lehmann, The
1966 Russian Presidential Election (Washington: Brookings, 1996),
esp. pp. 2-13, 45-46, 69-70.
45. Susanne Hoeber Rudolph and Lloyd Rudolph, "Modern Hate,"
New Republic, Vol. 208, No. 12 (March 22, 1993), pp. 24-29; Milton
Esman, Ethnic Politics (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press,
1994), pp. 28-31.
46. Paul Keckemeti, "Propaganda," in Pool, Handbook of Communication,
pp. 844-870; Donald Kinder and David Sears, "Public Opinion and
Political Action," in Gardner Lindzey and Elliot Aronson, eds.,
Handbook of Social Psychology, Vol. 3 (New York: Random House,
1985), pp. 659-741; Robert Jervis, Perception and Misperception
in International Politics (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1976).
47. Benjamin Page and Robert Shapiro, The Rational Public (Chicago:
University of Chicago, 1992). Consumers' level of education -
and presumably their sophistication about propaganda - seems to
have mixed effects. Page and Shapiro, pp. 178, 203-205, 313-330.
48. John Zaller, The Nature and Origins of Mass Opinion (Cambridge,
U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1992).
49. Stegmann, "Between Economic Interests and Radical Nationalism,"
in Jones and Retallack, Between Reform, p. 170; Fairbairn, "Interpreting
Wilhelmine Elections," in Jones and Retallack, Elections, pp.
22-23.
50. Eley, Reshaping the German Right, chap. 11; James Retallack,
"The Road to Philippi: The Conservative Party and Bethmann Hollweg's
'Politics of the Diagonal,' 1909-1914," in Jones and Retallack,
Between Reform, pp. 286-287.
51. For various approaches to regulating speech and media, see
Judith Lichtenberg, ed., Democracy and the Mass Media (Cambridge,
U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1990), esp. pp. 52, 127-128,
144-145, 186-201.
52. Page and Shapiro, The Rational Public, pp. 339-354; for a
skeptical view, see Robert Entman, Democracy without Citizens
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1989).
53. See the periodic country studies by Article 19 and Freedom
House.
54. Phillip Knightly, The First Casualty (New York: Harcourt,
Brace, Jovanovich, 1975), pp. 21-25; Michael Schudson, Discovering
the News: A Social History (New York: Basic, 1978); Belin, "Russia:
Wrestling Political and Financial Repression," pp. 59-63; Lent,
Newspapers in Asia, pp. 176, 211.
55. Letter to John Norvell, June 14, 1807, in Merrill D. Peterson,
ed., The Portable Thomas Jefferson (New York: Viking, 1975), p.
505.
56. James Manor, "The Failure of Political Integration in Sri
Lanka (Ceylon)," Journal of Commonwealth and Comparative Politics,
Vol. 17, No. 1 (March 1979), pp. 21-44, esp. 21-23.
57. Thompson, Forging War, p. 20; Zdenka Milivojevic, "The Media
in Serbia from 1985 to 1994," in Dusan Janjic, ed., Serbia Between
the Past and the Future (Belgrade: Institute of Social Sciences,
1995), pp. 168-169.
58. Velko Vujacic, "Serbian Nationalism, Slobodan Milosevic and
the Origins of the Yugoslav War," The Harriman Review, Vol. 8,
No. 4 (December 1995), p. 29; Thompson, Forging War, p. 20.
59. Gagnon, "Ethnic Nationalism and International Conflict: The
Case of Serbia"; Susan Woodward, Balkan Tragedy (Washington, D.C.:
Brookings, 1995), pp. 99, 230-232, 293; Branka Magas, The Destruction
of Yugoslavia (London: Verso, 1993), pp. 3-76; Thompson, Forging
War, p. 56, 65-66, 114-116, 124.
60. Thompson, Forging War, pp. 6-7, 16.
61. Thompson, Forging War, pp. 38-43; Woodward, Balkan Tragedy,
p. 230. In Croatia, only 600,000 people out of ten million get
their news from media not controlled by the government, according
to a survey conducted by Miklos Biro, "Is Anybody Out There?"
War Report, No. 39 (February/March 1996), p. 17.
62. Milivojevic, "The Media in Serbia," p. 164; Thompson, Forging
War, p. 54; Silber and Little, Yugoslavia, p. 33; see also Magas,
Destruction, pp. 49-76.
63. Gagnon, "Ethnic Nationalism and International Conflict: The
Case of Serbia," pp. 145-152; Vujacic, "Serbian Nationalism,"
p. 30; Thompson, Forging War, pp. 23-24, 52-53.
64. Thompson, Forging War, p. 55.
65. Thompson, Forging War, pp. 221-224; Woodward, Balkan Tragedy,
p. 230.
66. Changes in media content were also used successfully to shift
opinion in favor of peace. On April 9, 1993, 70 percent of Serbian
respondents said they opposed the Vance-Owen peace plan, but on
April 27, after a reversal of policy by the Serbian government
and media, only 20 percent opposed it, and 39 percent were in
favor. Thompson, Forging War, pp. 127-128, 209, 264.
67. Nonetheless, even the independent media found itself caught
in the self-fulfilling prophecies generated by nationalist mythmaking.
As Serbian journalist Stojan Cerovic said in May 1992, "Anybody
who explains the truth can do so only at his own cost. Reality
sounds like the blackest anti-Serbian propaganda, and anyone who
describes it will frighten people and turn them against him."
Thompson, Forging War, pp. 73-75, 127-129. For a dissenting view
which stresses the limited success of appeals to Serbian nationalism,
see Gagnon, "Ethnic Conflict as Demobilizer."
68. Thompson, Forging War, pp. 127-128.
69. Thompson, Forging War, pp. 105-111, 161.
70. Thompson, Forging War, pp. 225-225, 229-231.
71. Quotation from Africa Rights, Rwanda, p. 35; also pp. vi,
37-38, 63-64, 69-72, 150; Human Rights Watch, Playing the "Communal
Card," pp. 7, 9.
72. Holly Burkhalter, "The Question of Genocide," World Policy
Journal, Vol. 11, No. 4 (Winter 1994-95), pp. 44-54, esp. 51,
53.
73. Human Rights Watch, Playing, pp. 16-17; Africa Rights, Rwanda,
p. 720; Reporters sans Frontieres, Rwanda: L'impasse? La liberte
de las presse apres le genocide, 4 juillet 1994-28 aout 1995 (Paris:
Reporters sans Frontieres, 1995), pp. 48-50; Alison Des Forges,
"The Rwandan Crisis," paper prepared for a conference on Sources
of Conflict in Rwanda (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of State,
October 17, 1994).
74. Compare Africa Rights, Rwanda, pp. 32-34 with 720; also compare
Des Forges, "Rwandan Crisis," pp. 1 with 9.
75. Africa Rights, Rwanda, p. 150.
76. Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis, chap. 4, "Slouching towards Democracy,"
esp. pp. 131-133, 157, on the low quality and extremism of these
new entrants into public discourse.
77. Africa Rights, Rwanda, pp. 30-34, 44; Bruce D. Jones, "The
Arusha Process," in Howard Adelman and Astri Suhrke, eds., Early
Warning and Conflict Management in Rwanda (forthcoming); Alan
J. Kuperman, "The Other Lesson of Rwanda: Mediators Sometimes
Do More Damage Than Good," SAIS Review, Vol. 16, No. 1 (Winter-Spring
1996), pp. 221-240.
78. Alex de Waal, "The Genocidal State," Times Literary Supplement,
July 1, 1994, pp. 3-4; see also Africa Rights, Rwanda, pp. 30-32.
79. Africa Rights, Rwanda, p. v; also pp. 568-596; Prunier, The
Rwanda Crisis, p. 170; Jones, "Arusha."
80. Africa Rights, Rwanda, pp. 66-68.
81. De Waal, "The Genocidal State," p. 4; also Jones, "Arusha."
On Habyarimana's death, see Prunier, Rwanda Crisis, pp. 213-229.
82. Human Rights Watch, Playing, pp. 16-17.
83. Reporters sans Frontieres, Rwanda, pp. 6, 41-42; 52-53; Reporters
sans Frontieres, Burundi, le Venin de la Haine: Etude sur les
medias extremistes, 2d ed. (Paris: Reporters sans Frontieres,
July 1995), pp. 63, 68-69; quotation on p. 69.
84. Tim Harris, "Propaganda and Public Opinion in Seventeenth-Century
England," in Jeremy Popkin, ed., Media and Revolution (Lexington:
University Press of Kentucky, 1995), pp. 48-73.
85. Geoffrey Holmes and Daniel Szechi, The Age of Oligarchy (London:
Longman, 1993), chap. 13, esp. pp. 194-195; Martin Daunton, Progress
and Poverty (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), p. 482; Linda
Colley, Britons (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1992),
esp. pp. 25, 220.
86. Snyder, Myths of Empire, chap. 5; Paul Kennedy, Strategy
and Diplomacy (London: Allen and Unwin, 1983), chaps. 1 and 8;
for a more critical view, see Charles Kupchan, The Vulnerability
of Empire (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1994), chap.
3.
87. Elaine Potter, The Press as Opposition: The Political Role
of South African Newspapers (Totowa, N.J.: Rowman and Littlefield,
1975).
88. On the segmented market, see William Finnegan, Dateline Soweto
(New York: Harper and Row, 1988), pp. 24-33, and Potter, The Press
as Opposition, p. 164; on the transition, see Timothy Sisk, Democratization
in South Africa (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press,
1995).
89. S.N. Paul, Public Opinion and British Rule (New Delhi: Metropolitan,
1979).
90. R.C.S. Sarkar, The Press in India (New Delhi: S. Chand, 1984),
pp. 190-193, 295-296; Allyn and Wilkinson, Guidelines for Journalists,
appendix.
91. Moti Lal Bhargava, Role of Press in the Freedom Movement
(New Delhi: Reliance, 1987), pp. 336, 341-342.
92. S.B. Kolpe, "Caste and Communal Violence and the Role of
the Press," pp. 342, 349, in Asghar Ali Engineer, ed., Communal
Riots in Post-Independence India (Hyderabad: Sangam, 1984); and
Asghar Ali Engineer, "The Causes of Communal Riots," ibid., pp.
36-38; Hamish McDonald, "Paper Tigers," Far Eastern Economic Review,
Vol. 158, No. 40 (October 5, 1995), pp. 28-30; Zenab Banu, Politics
of Communalism (Bombay: Popular Prakashan, 1989), p. 21.
93. Sumit Ganguly, Between War and Peace: The Crisis in Kashmir
(Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, forthcoming); Ganguly,
"Explaining the Kashmir Insurgency: Political Mobilization and
Institutional Decay," International Security, Vol. 21, No. 2 (Fall
1996), pp. 76-107.
94. Human Rights Watch, Playing the "Communal Card," p. 21.
95. Article 19, Guidelines for Election Broadcasting, p. 5.
96. Michael W. Doyle, UN Peacekeeping in Cambodia: UNTAC's Civil
Mandate (Boulder, Colo.: Lynne Rienner, 1995), pp. 54-55. For
other cases, see Dan Lindley, "Collective Security Organizations
and Internal Conflict," in Michael E. Brown, ed., The International
Dimensions of Internal Conflict (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press,
1996), pp. 562-567.
97. Thomas Carothers, Assessing Democratic Assistance: The Case
of Romania (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International
Peace, 1996), pp. 80-89.
98. Richard L. Merritt, Democracy Imposed: U.S. Occupation Policy
and the German Public, 1945-1949 (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University
Press, 1996), pp. 291-315, esp. 296, emphasizes the effectiveness
of this strategy.
99. Horowitz, A Democratic South Africa? chaps. 4 and 5; Arend
Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies (New Haven, Conn.: Yale
University Press, 1977). On common media as a precondition for
an integrated national consciousness, see Benedict Anderson, Imagined
Communities (London: Verso, 1983).
100. Stephen Harold Riggins, Ethnic Minority Media (Newbury Park,
Calif.: Sage, 1992).
101. Larry Diamond, Promoting Democracy in the 1990s (New York:
Carnegie Corporation, Report to the Carnegie Commission on Preventing
Deadly Conflict, December 1995), pp. 24-25.
102. Gordon P. Means, Malaysian Politics: The Second Generation,
2d ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), esp. pp. 137-138,
313-314, 418-422, 439; Karl von Vorys, Democracy without Consensus:
Communalism and Political Stability in Malaysia (Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1975), pp. 394-412.
Jack Snyder is Professor of Political Science and Director
of the Institute of War and Peace Studies, Columbia University.
Karen Ballentine is a Ph.D. candidate in political science at
Columbia University and in 1996-97 will be a Research Fellow at
the Center for Science in International Affairs, Harvard University.
International
Security, 1996, 21 (2)
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