The most effective propaganda is invisible, passing itself off as reality even to those producing it. "Come here for America in all its glory" is the current banner heading for Mark Mardell's BBC webpage, in his role as North American Editor. Knowing little else about Mardell one can only assume that his opinion of the US is no great departure from that of his two predecessors, Justin Webb and Matt Frei. Both were outspoken fans and defenders of the US during the Bush II years (see Frei’s Washington Diary and Webb’s dewey-eyed farewell for the full picture.)
Unless some strange coincidence is at play then, it seems fair to conclude that the job of BBC ‘North American Editor’ is only open to those who hold a positive view of the United States and its impact on the world. John Pilger need not apply. This seems rather odd when one considers the self-proclaimed ‘impartiality’ of the BBC. It is not as if any other nation is accorded this privilege. It is hard to imagine the BBC hosting a webpage promising “France in all its glory” or “China in all its glory”, let alone “Iran in all its glory”. Likewise, if the BBC's Europe correspondent publicly railed against "anti-European attitudes", he or she would be met with mirth, and possibly find themselves spending more time with their family, rather than interviewed and given the opportunity to promote their book on the subject.
I’m sure many Britons feel this differing treatment is justified, on the grounds that there simply isn’t anything glorious about these other places. But that just begs the question whether we only feel this way because we have been immersed in it from birth, readers and journalists alike.
Does the US deserve all the glory? The way Webb and Frei frame the evidence makes it difficult to come to any other conclusion. For any properly functioning BBC correspondent all criticism of the US must be carefully ‘contextualised’. The standard form is ‘yes, there have been mistakes, but just look at the benefits’. ‘Mistakes’ is a crucial word here as the suggestion of cynical intent on the part of the US is definitely ruled out. So ‘mistakes’ covers slavery, segregation, Guantanamo, Abu Graib, and a record of installing and supporting some of history’s most repressive regimes. Alongside ‘mistakes’ we also have ‘difficult choices’. This includes napalming villages, the only atomic bombings in world history, and of course the on-going support of many of today’s worst tyrants - ‘difficult choices’ likely to find themselves reclassified as ‘mistakes’ in years to come.
Regarding the benefits, Frei cites iPods and the Bill of Rights, “Henry Ford; the Wright brothers; Bill Gates; the Boeing corporation; Desperate Housewives; The Sopranos and, of course, SpongeBob SquarePants” not forgetting “the freedom to dream and create without fear of prosecution or recrimination”. From Webb, “the atmosphere in which Nobel Prize winners are nurtured”; “the carelessness of America that gives space for greatness”; “space and youth and hope. The rest of the world can seem so jaded in contrast”, and not forgetting “the stolid, sunny, unchallenging, simple virtuousness of the American suburban psyche” that “I have come to value - to love, actually.“
Of course we can all play at this game: Never mind the mustard gas, at least the trains run on time. Cost/benefit analysis of human history is always going to be a difficult call. The reader will have to decide whether Frei and Webb’s balance sheet really does show a surfeit of glory rather than a debt of pain.
At first glance the idea of a ‘pro-region’ regional commentator might seem only sensible. If the BBC wants to know the ins and outs of a region’s politics it might help to employ people who can ingratiate themselves with the powerful. Like ‘embedded’ war journalists, if you want to get close to the action you need to get close to your hosts. But perhaps the analogy is too good. Just as we should be wary of embedded war reporting we should be wary of embedded political reporting. Being ‘close to the White House’ is difficult to distinguish from being in the pocket of the White House. You cannot expect to honestly appraise the powerful and still expect to remain buddies. They will move away from you, or have you moved away from them.
And of course if this was is the best method of impartial data collection, how come the BBC doesn’t employ it across the board? There’s no sign of schmoozing when it comes to covering the politics of Venezuela, Cuba or Iran. On the contrary, when the BBC wants to verify facts about these countries it tends to rely on the word of Washington! Indeed, much as it seems to be the duty of BBC correspondents to admire some countries, they also seem editorially-bound to scorn others, and it is surely no coincidence that the BBCs list of nice and naughty countries keeps perfectly in-step with the outlook of Westminster and Washington.
Our media play their part in training us to trust (or perhaps, love, actually) our fellow humans in some countries, while at the same time training us to fear and mistrust our fellow humans elsewhere. At the most crucial moments these invisible assumptions can corrode our critical abilities. Aggressors can be painted as liberators, or even victims, simply because it is too much of a leap of imagination to believe that these old family friends could be acting in a cynical way. Likewise, victims can be painted as aggressors even as the bombs rain down upon them, or as the threats to bomb them reach boiling point.
