66b9uk5yPH

A short time map can be added: Manufacturing Consent enters into a dialogue with Walter Lippmann’s ‘the manufacture of consent’ (2004 [1922]), which was published more than six decades before the five filters appeared on print. As of now, more than three decades later, the five-filter model has gotten revised over and over again: most notably through Herman and Chomsky’s own

(and 48-page long!) upgrading ‘introduction’ of 2002 (2002 [1988]: xi–lviii), but also through numerous recent monographs and anthologies such as The Propaganda Model Today (Pedro-Caranana/Broudy/Klaehn 2018).

Already in Manufacturing Consent, Herman and Chomsky have shown how their model frame can be applied to comprehensive cases of investigation.

The 1988 edition included four larger of such cases, spanning ‘Western’ news stories on El Salvador, Guatemala, Nicaragua (2002 [1988]: 87–142), on Bulgaria (2002 [1988]: 143–168), on Vietnam (2002 [1988]: 169–252), as well as on Laos and Cambodia (2002 [1988]: 253–296). Thirty years after, many of these cases appear in the form of a ‘déjà vu’—partly at the same locations with the same key actors; partly somewhere else, with different actors, yet the same logics of ‘good versus evil’. Mid-1990s discussions on Jean Baudrillard’s The Gulf War Did Not Take Place (1995 [1991]), in which Baudrillard emphasizes that the war, as screened on CNN, did not take place; recurring debates regarding Michael Walzer’s Just and Unjust Wars (2000 [1977]), most recently in conjunction with so-called ‘responsibility to protect’ or ‘humanitarian intervention’ narratives; or thoughts on ‘Al Jazeera effects’ and ‘CNN effects’

(see, for example, Doucet 2018) provide manifold calls for continual propaganda-model applications.

A Securitization Model—Buzan, Wæver and de Wilde 1997

Herman and Chomsky enable us to further reflect on the ‘political economy’ behind the mass media in a structural sense (while already offering diverse foci on monsterization processes and practices, namely ‘flak’, ‘anti-

*ism’, as well as the ‘manufacture of worthy victims’). Barry Buzan, Ole Wæver and Jaap de Wilde from the international relations’ Copenhagen School focus on one of such practices in more detail (while leaving out the bigger thoughts on ‘the system as such’). In Security (1997), they offer ‘a new framework for analysis’ (as the subtitle may already suggest) when talking about security. Just as it was the case with ‘facts’-contra-facts, the very term security as a fact is being questioned. ‘Security’, as a ‘fact’ indeed, is arbitrary. It is constructed. It is a result of constant negotiation, perceived as an outcome of successful ‘speech acts’.

In a condensed form, the Copenhagen School’s ‘securitization model’ (oftentimes also referred to as ‘the securitization theory’) consists of six elements. As presented here, we could also dub it ‘a speech-act model’. Any speech act that tries to ‘securitize’ a certain issue within political discourse[s]— and especially within foreign affairs—and thus transforming it from a ‘non-

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politicized’ into a ‘politicized’ and further into a ‘securitized’ issue—could be analyzed by the following question: “[…] who securitizes [securitizing actor], on what issues [threats], for whom [referent object], why, with what results, and not least, under what conditions” (1997: 32)?

If I was to summarize the 239-page long work Security with one sentence only, it would be precisely this 22-word long umbrella question above. A simple copy-paste: neat and easy. Within our MaMo courses, we have slightly modified the six-element structure, just to include ‘the audience’ as an icon as well.

Therefore, the following basic framework could be outlined: a (i) securitizing actor [who?] ‘highlights’ and/or ‘manufactures’ (ii) existential threats [what issues?] to a (iii) ‘referent object’ [for whom?]. In doing so, the securitizing actor has certain (iv) ‘intended outcomes’ [why, and what results?] and acts under (v) ‘facilitating conditions’ [what conditions?], when approaching the (vi) audience.

As in the case of ‘a propaganda model’, such schemata can easily be put on a blackboard. And yet again, such reduction does not necessarily lead to a tunnel-type vision, as have uncountable case studies of the last twenty years shown. Most often, the securitization model is seen in conjunction with the establishment of US-American ‘war on terror’ and ‘axis of evil’ narratives (see, for example, Williams 2003; Reinke de Buitrago 2012), but it has been applied to numerous other forms of ‘othering within international relations’ as well— also, and especially, including the role of mass media. To receive the audience’s backing for “extraordinary measures” (1997: 25)—for example: ‘going to war’—human history has shown that personified ‘existential threats’ in the form of ‘tyrants’, ‘maniacs’, ‘devils’, ‘dictators’, ‘butchers’ work as powerful catalysts. Many securitizing actors are in search for two things: masses to convince and control; and monsters to fear and fight.

Anatomy of a Propaganda Blitz—Edwards and Cromwell 2018

It seems to be common practice to delegitimize as ‘propaganda’ or ‘fake news’ another entities’ ‘[public] opinion’ that does not fit ones own sensemaking system. Most ironically, the sheer act of calling the others’ action ‘propaganda’, contains propaganda in itself [if not contrapaganda]. All too often, the very architects of fake news demonize others’ work as ‘fake news’.

Meticulous investigation, investigative research and journalism, proof-and- evidence based analyses may help to leave manufactured ‘facts’ aside and work in the best interest of fact-oriented knowledge production. But such undertaking demands time, resources, stress resistance, integrity, incorruptibility and courage. Oftentimes, these cornerstones are at odds with ‘the given conditions’ both academics and journalists work under. Copy-paste science and copy-paste journalism are the rule, not the exception; fake news and fake science their logical outcomes.

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The British media-analysis website Media Lens may function as a fruitful example of how proof-and-evidenced based mass-media investigations can be undertaken—even, and especially in times of constant information overflow. Its co-founders (journalist) David Edwards and (geophysicist) David Cromwell have published dozens of articles and books in which they scrutinize biased, propagandistic, corrupt and oftentimes simply incorrect reporting [and also: non- reporting] by the British ‘corporate media’. In addition, they regularly write socalled ‘Media Alerts’ (see, as recent examples, Cromwell 2019a; 2019b; Cromwell/Edwards 2019). Media Lens is active since 2001, and can therefore be seen as an illustrative archive of mass-media investigations throughout the hitherto 18-year long ‘war on terror’ period. This period included the mediatized monterizations of Saddam Hussein (died 2006), Muammar Gaddafi (died 2011),

Hugo Chávez (died 2013), Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Bashar al-Assad, Nicolás Maduro, among others, as singular ‘threats to world peace’; combined with everlasting ‘regime-change’ calls and ‘lost-all-legitimacy’ claims.

Although predominantly criticizing the news reporting of key journalists working for the so-called ‘liberal’ and self-acclaimed ‘neutral’ outlets such as

The Guardian, the BBC, or Channel 4, Edwards and Cromwell emphasize that their criticism makes visible structural symptoms when dealing with ‘herd thinking’ within typing rooms and news agencies. From time to time, they highlight—what they may perceive as—journalism of integrity and examine the struggles of investigative reporters; among them writers of ‘corporate media’

(see, as a current example, Fisk 2019). Among the prominent journalists whose work is regularly lauded by Media Lens are John Pilger (see also his Propaganda Blitz contribution: Pilger 2018), Seymour M. Hersh (for a list of his interwoven Iraq–Iran–Libya–Syria investigations of the last fifteen years, see the bibliography: Hersh 2004–2019), and Jonathan Cook (see, for example, an essay on Hersh’s Syria work: Cook 2017). One might argue to which extent the 1988 publication of Manufacturing Consent was inspired by Walter Lippmann’s 1922 book Public Opinion. On the other hand, in the case of Media Lens since 2001, it is quite safe to argue that Edwards and Cromwell’s work would have been unthinkable without Herman and Chomsky’s pre-work. In its framing, approach, and vocabulary, Media Lens transparently builds on ‘a propaganda model’ and aims at further developing and expanding its key components, including the focus on ‘worthy and unworthy victims’.

In September 2018, David Edwards and David Cromwell have published their most recent book, Propaganda Blitz: How the Corporate Media Distort Reality (Edwards/Cromwell 2018b; see also Edwards/Cromwell 2018a; Pilger 2018) (Figure 21). It comes as no surprise that they have yet again chosen the

1 Picture taken by the author, in front of the ‘VII International Kant–Bakhtin Seminar’ venue.

March 14, 2019.

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Figure 2. Reading Propaganda Blitz in Murmansk

‘anti-capitalist, internationalist, independent, award-winning’ Pluto Press as their publisher (which, in 2019, celebrates ‘50 years of independent, radical publishing’). The book contains ten detailed case studies in which the two follow tendencies of what they frame as propaganda blitzes: “Propaganda blitzes are fast-moving attacks intended to inflict maximum damage in minimum time” (2018b: 1). Such propaganda blitzes can be understood as combined ‘flak’–

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‘anti-*ism’–‘securitization’ approaches in which leading journalists of influential ‘corporate media’ outlets aim at setting up agendas in favor of ‘powerful interests that own, manage and fund’ them (or their employers); and against political opponents, or ‘challengers of the system’.

In a condensed form, the Propaganda Blitz’ ‘anatomy of a propaganda blitz’ consists of six levels that can, but do not necessarily have to occur in chronological order: (i) dramatic new evidence, (ii) emotional tone and intensity, (iii) appearance of informed ‘consensus’, (iv) demonizing dissent, (v) timing and fortuitous coincidences, as well as (vi) tragicomic moral dissonance.

Following the level logic, an archetypical propaganda blitz would start off with allegations of ‘dramatic new evidence’ (2018b: 1–6). Note in that regard the emphasis on allegations. Such allegations would oftentimes already be blurred with phrases such as ‘proof’ or ‘evidence’ or ‘facts’. Here, the war on

Syria offers multiple vivid examples of application. Throughout the last eight years, international news agencies, non-governmental organizations and massmedia outlets alike have all-too often simply overtaken allegations by ‘rebel’- affiliated channels such as the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights or the Aleppo Media Centre or the White Helmets and directly blamed the government

(or, as they have usually framed it, the ‘regime’) for atrocities—without further and impartial in-depth fact-checking analyses. Such ‘dramatic new evidence’ would usually be communicated with high emotional intensity and moral outrage (2018b: 6–8). Sticking to the Syrian example, one might think of headlines such as: ‘Monster Assad gasses his own people! Stop him before it is too late!’ At the same time, the commentators would make sure to base their moral outrage on an informed corporate media–academic–expert consensus (2018b: 8–11). What started with allegations would then be backed up by references to other like-minded ‘experts’ who oftentimes make use of the same sources and same filter bubbles as the commentators themselves. Yet, combined with institutional prestige and social capital (such as Human Rights Watch or Amnesty International have), all sorts of potential doubt could easily be disregarded as ‘inhumane’—especially when talking about ‘sarin attacks’ or ‘barrel bombs’ and such like. Therefore—what is clearly to be understood as a reference to Herman and Chomsky’s ‘flak’—, a propaganda blitz would be reinforced by damning condemnation of anyone even daring to question the apparent consensus (2018b: 11–15). Such ‘flak’ mechanism could effectively exclude ‘outsider’ journalists or academics through disregarding them as ‘Assadists’, ‘atrocity deniers’, ‘genocide supporters’—in fine: as monster allies!

All these intertwined events would be generated with supposedly

‘fortuitous timing’ and ‘fortuitous coincidences’ (2018b: 15–17). Sticking to the Syrian case, that would for example mean an alleged ‘sarin attack’ in Eastern

Ghouta precisely at a moment in which international UN inspectors are in Damascus to examine another chemical attack at Khan al-Assal. It would include the publication of a so-called ‘Caesar Report’ right before the Geneva II

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Conference on Syria, or, in general, an intensified hyper-emotional coverage whenever ‘Western’-supported ‘rebels’ are under pressure and ‘call for military support’. Such fortuitousness would, lastly, be characterized by tragicomic moral dissonance (2018b: 17–19), since propaganda blitzes of that sort would only arise whenever convenient for the own narrative. In other words: With reference to Herman and Chomsky’s ‘worthy and unworthy victims’, heartbreaking images of the ‘monster’s victims’ (such as Omran Daqneesh on an orange ambulance seat, as an alleged ‘victim of Assad’) could fill the cover pages of literally all major ‘Western’ newspapers simultaneously, while ‘the own victims’ (such as Omran Daqneesh at home, who later turned out to be a ‘victim of rebels’ instead) would remain invisible.

The abstract already hinted at the circumstance that, as of writing the paper, reports on Venezuela dominated the international mass-media discourse. It is likewise strengthening and troubling to verify that also the current events surrounding the calls for ‘regime change’ in Caracas can be seen as a fruitful case for a propaganda-blitz application. Such analysis has already been made by

David Edwards (2019a; 2019b; note: ‘Venezuela Blitz’). At the same time, it is worth mentioning that Media Lens is by far not the only media critique organization of its kind. In the United States, for example, Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting (FAIR) has been a valuable source of investigative media criticism for over 33 years (see also recent ‘Venezuela Blitz’ analyses there: Emersberger 2019; Johnson 2019). In the following months, more of such work will be dearly needed when once more covering Iranian issues. And so, the pork cycle of mass media’s attention span will continue: “Iran in the crosshairs again”

(Bennis 2012); and again, and again.

Negotiating the Three—Establishing an Inter-Disciplinary MaMo Frame

The manufacture of monsters is driven by a perpetual motion machine. Monsterization is its modus operandi. The above-presented three models of political economy, international relations, and media studies all contain a distinct ‘monsterization’ variable. While Herman and Chomsky’s propaganda model underlined the impact of ‘anti-*ism’ [read: anti-monsterism] as fearmanufacturing element and ‘worthy victims’ [read: monsters’ victims] as attention seeker, the Copenhagen School’s securitization model ascribed constructed ‘existential threats’ [read: monstrous threats] a catalyst function. Lastly, Media Lens’ ‘anatomy of a propaganda blitz’ takes into account monster aspects on all levels, including ‘demonizing dissent’ [read: demonizing the alleged monsterists]. It is precisely this interdisciplinary junction of theses three models that encouraged us (the above-mentioned creators of MaMo) to use all three models combined as ‘one holistic, interwoven MaMo frame’ in class. The more we experiment with new case applications, the more we have the feeling that we are on a good way doing so. This endeavor is, of course, simply a self-

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referential act of sense making; but in that regard, it also makes ‘happy’. The manufacture of knowledge can indeed be fulfilling.

Speaking of a MaMo spirit, our Manufacturing Monsters adventure has since been ‘more than a course’. At the beginning of this essay, I have noted: “the rest is history”. Besides the actual seminar sessions of the last three years and the organization of a symposium, a research network, and continuous participations at conferences, one of our dreams was to jointly create a MaMo special issue that could function as a primer reading convolute of the courses to come. As of writing these lines, we are in the final stages of fulfilling that dream (in the form of a Nordlit issue, see Beyer/Bockwoldt/Hammar/Pötzsch 2019).

Already in late 2016, we made an interesting observation. After having ‘negotiated’ the title of our course, and shortly before officially registering it, we did the most obvious: We simply ‘googled’ the term ‘Manufacturing Monsters’—and, yes, of course, the catch phrase was already ‘invented’ by someone else.1 Yet, the search-result entries were rather pleasing: In 2000, one year before 9/11 and the subsequent ‘war on terror’, Index on Censorship published a special issue entitled ‘Manufacturing Monsters’ (Petley 2000). This special issue included two essays by Edward Said and Noam Chomsky, both of which were relevant for our course. Closely related phrases such as

‘Constructing Monsters’ could be found elsewhere (Burnett 2002). Through a wider search on monster journals, we came across manifold recent special issues within the emerging field of ‘monster studies’ (Henriksen/Bülow/Kvistad 2017;

Paradiso-Michau 2017; Calafell 2018; Koenig-Woodyard/Nanayakkara/Khatri 2018). This was, truth be told, the first time that I—and if I remember correctly, also we all—heard of ‘monster studies’ as an academic field (Cohen 1996; 2012; 2017). It is of nice coincidence that soon thereafter, ‘monster colleagues’ from

Stavanger—who themselves were about to publish their own special issue (Hellstrand et al. 2018)—contacted us to take part in a ‘monster conference’ (for a panel podcast, see Hellstrand/Henriksen/Berg/Beyer 2019). The interest in the manufacture of monsters seems to be en vogue. Even Nature has recently sent out a call for papers on ‘Monsters: Interdisciplinary Explorations of Monstrosity’ (Erle/Beckley/Hendry 2020).

While reading through the manuscripts of our own special issue

‘Manufacturing Monsters’ (2019), I came across the following quote that nicely corresponds to the foregoing remarks on Media Lens and Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting:

[the peace-journalism approach] uses the insights of conflict analysis and transformation to update the concepts of balance, fairness and accuracy in reporting[.] [It also] [p]rovides a new road map tracing the connections between

1 At least the abbreviation MaMo in its strict sense of ‘monster-media’s mass-media-monster manufacture’—not the bird, not the mom—was ‘coined’ by us. [Yay!].

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journalists, their sources, the stories they cover and the consequences of their journalism—the ethics of journalistic intervention[,] [and] [b]uilds an awareness of non-violence and creativity into the practical job of everyday editing and reporting (Lynch/McGoldrick 2005: 5).

Investigative reporters and pedantic academics share similar problems. They seem to be relicts of another era—somewhat out of place. In-depth analyses take time, in both of these professions. Yet, both arenas are characterized by permanent time pressure and multi-tasking demands. ‘Publish or perish!’ In both professions, it is far more convenient to generate copy-paste outcomes of already agreed-upon, consensus-based patterns. In the case of a contemporary journalist, it makes most sense to solely rely on pre-manufactured

Reuters, Associated Press (AP) and Agence France-Presse (AFP) newswire reports, just to be able to fulfill the demanded workload of an average working day. This way, most of the article manuscripts, as received from the wire services, will be slightly reformulated; yet a meticulous, investigative source examination (which would at times demand weeks of forensic analysis) is systemically speaking impossible. Whoever controls the vocabulary and the agenda setting of the large news agencies, controls most of the mass media’s unceasing output flow.

And still, there are some vital examples of the almost-extinct species of investigative journalists. As Jonathan Cook writes on Seymour M. Hersh in a section entitled ‘dangerous monsters’, “Hersh’s investigations have not only undermined evidence-free claims being promoted in the [W]est to destabili[z]e

Assad’s government but threatened a wider US policy seeking to ‘remake the Middle East’” (Cook 2017), and further, “[h]is work has challenged a political and corporate media consensus that portrays Russia’s Vladimir Putin, Assad’s main ally against the extremist Islamic forces fighting in Syria, as another dangerous monster the West [sic] needs to bring into line” (ibid.). As other reporters, Hersh has received tremendous ‘flak’ throughout the last eight years, mostly for simply questioning the very existence of evidence and proof behind proclaimed, but never disclosed ‘evidence’ and ‘proof’. From 1993 to 2013, he regularly published in The New Yorker. But from 2013 onwards, his Syria manuscripts were rejected—both by The New Yorker and the Washington Post. Between 2013 and 2016, his works appeared in the London Review of Books (LRB), just until he got rejected even there. It is, nevertheless, reassuring to observe that 2019 marks the year of Hersh’s return—at least on the LRB pages. Quite some of his biggest pieces got dismissed at the time of publication, and confirmed decades later. As so often before, decades of investigative research will be needed to finally evaluate the accuracy of his Syria reporting. Yet, one thing is already for sure: Reporters such as Hersh managed to withstand the herd thinking and group pressure of their guild. Of course, Hersh’s analyses are not free from faults, but in general, they follow a coherent pattern: Be curious—and highlight if certain alleged facts are in fact mere ‘facts’.

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Echo chambers, self-referencing networks, filter bubbles and group orientation within journalism and academia are, as such, just normal—and to a certain extent even inevitable. This statement can easily, and most ironically, be illustrated with the example of two geographically neighboring networks of border studies: ‘Tromsø–Alta–Kirkenes’-affiliated Border Poetics/Border Culture1 and ‘Bodø–Kirkenes–Nikel–Murmansk’-affiliated Borderology2. Any interested reader can have a short look into the bibliographies of the works mentioned in footnotes 7 and 8, just to discover that a border-crossing discourse between the two networks is almost non-existent. ‘Borderology’, as a term, seems to be unknown to many Border Poetics scholars and cannot be tracked in their respective reference works. ‘Border Poetics’, as a term, seems to be unknown to many Borderology scholars and cannot be tracked in their respective reference works. Both terms, ‘Borderology’ and ‘Border Poetics’ are most certainly unknown to most of the people living in the surrounding

‘borderscape[s]’ (Schimanski/Wolfe 2019 [2017]) or ‘border zone[s]’ (Rossvær/Sergeev 2015).

Practices and processes of non-dialogue unfold a potentially monstrous character when issues of war and peace are at play. That includes, first and foremost, reporting on armed conflicts (or reporting that can lead to armed conflicts) in conjunction with an ignorance (or even demonization) of ‘outside voices’. This arena is the central application field of our three-fold model approach. Putting all the here-propounded variables of all three models onto one blackboard at once creates instant confusion and a decent overload. Yet, if clearing the mess in such a manner as to expose the sheer impact of massmediatized monsterizations, things start to make sense.

What kind of long-term effects does a particular consensus-based framing or a particular terminology have on collective memory and history writing?

Such questions can already brought to life when counting all the ‘regime-and- dictator’ phrases in certain news articles and contrasting them with ‘government-and-president’ settings of others. Language is power, and vocabulary essential.

The sheer existence of others and their voices is the best guarantee of not getting extinct. (That was the interwoven bird-and-mom reference you were longing for since page two). It is never too late to empathize with the other— also, and especially, when this other comes across as a ‘monster’.

1For basic works on Border Poetics/Border Culture (also: ‘Border Aesthetics’), see, e.g.

Whittaker von Hofsten/Nesby [Nordlit] 2006, Schimanski/Wolfe 2007, Schimanski/Wolfe [Nordlit] 2009, Schimanski/Wolfe [Journal of Borderlands Studies] 2010, Wolfe [Nordlit] 2014, Schimanski/Wolfe 2019 [2017].

2For basic works on Borderology (also: ‘Political Philosophy in the Border Zone’), see, e.g. Rossvær 1998, Rossvær 2007, Rossvær/Sergeev 2015, Sergeev 2016, Methi [/Sergeev] et al.

2019; as well as Emmeche 2016.

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Conclusion, Confusion—Onwards!

We all live in sense-making meta narratives. That seems, to put it simply, to underpin the crucial sense of life: to try to make sense of life. The toolbox that is given to us consists of herd thinking, negotiation with others, and production of knowledge—which always, and necessarily, has to be built on previous knowledge. ‘Echo chambers’, ‘fake news’, or ‘propaganda’ seem to be key slogans of our time. Yet, it is not possible not to be embedded in echo chambers and therefore—so to say—not to be a ‘victim’ of fake news, fake science, or propaganda of some sort. That to accept can be considered a goal of investigative journalism and academia: on the long and troublesome path of uncovering the crucial mechanisms of so-called non-ideological all-around ideologies. As paradoxical as it sounds: Instant clarity does not help. Instant confusion, however, may. Belief in the big things might be considered a decent weapon of mass distraction: gods, states, and nations are man-made reference points. So are capital, prestige, and power. The same goes for ‘us’, ‘them’, and ‘monsters’. Reference is the name of the game. Without references, life seems miserable and unstructured. References, in fact, will be used to make this essay appear academic (see quite some references below).

Apropos academia: We always have to critically ask ourselves: Do we, personally, commit to the highest standards of journalistic and scientific integrity? Only then, political discourse can flourish, and in the end may lead to mutual understandings of so-called ‘realities’ of societal togetherness. Or do we tend to ‘go with the flow’, constrained by time pressure, committed to copypaste productions? Journalistic careers, as well as academic careers, have a certain pay-off and a toll to pay. Compromises come at a high price, but compromises are also all-too often the price you have to pay to receive position and privilege, access and admission.

If the blocking quote above relates to ‘peace journalism’, why not calling equivalent efforts—and oftentimes pure struggles—in academia a ‘peace academia’ approach? MaMo could maybe be seen as a tiny, cute contribution to such big and noble cause. With all its limitations, it encourages dialogue based on in-depth investigations, calls for meticulous work, and sticks to societal problems at large, rather than blindly trying to fix symptoms. MaMo questions. In that regard, I sincerely hope that we have properly confused some of our students. That would be wonderful. Confusion clears the mind. Curiosity follows.

Bibliography

1.Baudrillard, Jean. 1995 [1991]. The Gulf War Did Not Take Place. Translated and with an introduction by Paul Patton. Bloomington/Indianapolis: Indiana University Press.

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