26. THE CHINESE GOVERNMENT'S VIEWS AND MOTIVATION
On June 12 on ABC, Peter Jennings gave the Beijing version of
what happened (and did not happen) on June 3-4, then summed up
his feelings (and those of many other journalists) by saying,
"Not many outside China are likely to be impressed."
A significant divergence between print media and broadcast media
in our sample came in their coverage of the Chinese government
disinformation campaign that began on June 12. Television gave
more prominent play to Beijing's attempt to redefine what
happened on June 3-4, no doubt because it was virtually the only
footage available at that time. Newspapers and the AP, however,
stressed aspects of repression (arrests, threats, asylum for
dissidents) that could be expressed in words but offered no
footage.
Foreign governments had an impact on the situation after June 4
by providing shelter to dissidents. The most famous case was the
American Embassy's decision to give refuge to Fang Lizhi, the
astrophysicist, which was given ample coverage both in print and
on television. Many stories provided good context by including
historical precedents for the decision, such as the sheltering of
Cardinal Mindzenty in Hungary and Pentecostals in the Soviet
Union, They also mentioned Washington's fear of reprisal in the
form of Chinese-sponsored demonstrations, and connected that fear
to historical events such as the torching of the British Embassy
during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s and the siege of
foreign embassies during the Boxer Rebellion of 1900.
The Chinese government's view of Fang as a traitor was reflected
in the coverage. There were also perceptive references to the
Chinese cultural context, such as the embarrassment the Chinese
government felt at an act recalling the indignities of
imperialist extraterritoriality. (30)
When the networks sent their "parachutists" into Beijing, one
result was that "good television" tended to overwhelm the Chinese
particularity of the story. One vivid photographic essay, by Bob
Simon of CBS on June 16, showed how dramatic and effective
television can be, even if at the expense of exactitude. Simon
set the tone of emotion and personal opinion by referring to "the
world's largest square and the year's most outrageous lie....
Even today you could see stains from the blood which was not
shed, holes from the bullets which were not fired, treads from
the tanks which did not charge.... " (The file footage showed
troops advancing and firing, with casualties falling, and stains
and bullet holes--on Changan Avenue, rather than Tiananmen
Square.)
Simon said the square was "vast, cold, empty--the kind of grand
open space which totalitarian regimes have always found so
pleasing." The film showed the vast void of cement, with metal
helmets making a regular pattern on part of it. For contrast,
Simon switched to footage of banner-waving demonstrators and said
the square seemed "smaller two weeks ago, warm, human, not
empty...full of innocence and hopeless ideas.... For one doomed
moment it was honest, warm, human."
As the footage returned to marching troops, Simon said, "They
destroyed democracy that night. They knew what they were doing.
They did not blink." The footage returned to the demonstrators,
singing the "Internationale," and Simon said, "They cannot erase
the memory or the desire for revenge," as the film shifted back
to the empty square and the troops for the final scene--but with
the haunting refrain of the anthem still rising, ghostlike, over
all. Fade to black, then to Dan Rather, visibly moved.
Powerful stuff, but too partisan to be a news spot and perhaps
better placed at the end of the show, tabbed as an editorial.
Such images of absolute good and evil were the aspect of the
coverage that some critics most objected to, and they do seem to
have fallen outside the bounds of objective reporting. We feel
the inherent emotional content of the crisis in China emerged
from the event itself, and such dramatic taking of sides in a
news report served to legitimize the Chinese government's
otherwise exaggerated and even outrageous complaints about the
coverage. We agree with the view of Al Pessin of VOA: "I think
the emotion that's involved in a story ought to be the emotion of
the players and of the event rather than the emotions of a
reporter."
The last manifestation of the power struggle within the
government in the time span of our study was the question of who
would succeed Zhao Ziyang as Party chief and Deng's designated
heir. Jiang Zemin, the Shanghai Party chief, was named on June
24, to the surprise of the experts and the journalists alike.
None of the reporters in our sample guessed right on this. Most
leaned towards Qiao Shi, the security chief; some (like Kristof
of the New York Times on June 18) included Jiang among the
candidates as "a long shot." Sinologists did no better than the
press at predicting Jiang's ascent.
27. THE MEDIA'S USE OF SPECIALISTS
In the month after martial law was declared, the Los Angeles
Times opinion page ran pieces on China from seventeen different
people. They included two regular columnists and one staff
reporter. The rest were from outside journalists (Edward Gargan),
politicians (Tom Hayden), foreign policy specialists (Henry
Kissinger), citizens of China, human rights specialists, and
(most frequently) academics from Boston, New York, Washington,
Chicago, Michigan and California.
Some of them had things to say that were not included in the news
coverage: Lawrence Sullivan (Adelphi University)--"Many student
leaders ... still consider China's rural population too ignorant
to play a major political role." Perry Link (Princeton)--"Words,
from the earliest times, have been understood [in China] as tools
for moral guidance as much as for descriptions of fact." Dorothy
Solinger (University of California, Irvine)--"What we see... is a
very Chinese yearning for an improved 'government of men' but
not, at this stage anyway [May 26], for a government of law or a
government by regularized, predictable institutions."
The Washington Post and the New York Times each had about the
same number of pieces on China in the same period, but they were
almost all by regular columnists, such as (in the Times) Anthony
Lewis, Flora Lewis, A.M. Rosenthal, and Tom Wicker and (in the
Post) Evans & Novak, Jeane Kirkpatrick, David Broder, Richard
Cohen, Jim Hoagland and William Raspberry.
There were also editorials, letters to the editor and editorial
cartoons. One letter in the New York Times, from Donald G.
Gillin, a Vassar College specialist on China, observed: "China
has in American minds ceased to be a kind of Oriental wonderland,
full of opportunities for play and profit, becoming instead what
most of those compelled to live there always knew it was: a grim,
often terrible place." The institutions of the opinion page and
the letter to the editor proved their worth in the China context.
Specialists provided an added dimension, complementing
reportorial coverage.
On CNN, of the fourteen specialist interviews and sound bites we
logged on the "Prime News" shows between May 13 and June 15, ten
made points that clearly went beyond the news content to provide
context. The other four (using as a standard a contribution that
went beyond information available from news reports at the time)
added little. It was not always possible to judge whether this
was the fault of the questioner or the specialist.
CBS used twelve specialists (generally in shorter bites) between
May 1 and June 21, and nine of them made contributions that went
beyond what had been presented in the news. ABC brought on nine
specialists between May 3 and June 11 and got original
contributions from only three. Part of the problem in the case of
ABC was that although Peter Jennings asked pertinent questions in
his interviews with Michel Oksenberg, Mike Lampton, Harding, Doak
Barnett and Kenneth Lieberthal, the information he was seeking
was not available (or was outdated) in the United States and
needed to be sought in China.
When asked to forecast how it would all turn out, specialists
mostly either fudged (the eighty-four-year old Deng would not
prevail "over time," as Lieberthal put it on "Nightline"), or
offered the prevailing Beijing odds. While that is
understandable, too few said that there was no way to know the
answer.
Some critics have complained that the range of specialists used
by television or welcomed by opinion pages was too limited. A
number of experts--Harding, authors Ross Terrill and Orville
Schell, exiled Chinese journalist Liu Binyan, Winston Lord, and
Oksenberg--appeared to be ubiquitous. While over the period in
question there were more than a score of different specialists
interviewed, and they expressed diverse views, we suggest the use
of more diverse (yet credible) voices in the mix.
28. RETROSPECTIVES
There were long retrospective stories on the crisis by Kristof,
Southerland, and a team at the Los Angeles Times that included
Holley. Each offered a fresh look at the events of the Beijing
Spring, with a comprehensive approach that added appreciably to
an understanding of what had happened, and they deserve great
credit for this extended coverage. (31)
The special section "A Shattered Dream" in the Los Angeles Times
on June 25 was unprecedented for a foreign news story at that
newspaper, and it became one of the basic options for the Times
foreign desk on each subsequent major international story.
Kristof's initial reassessment of the June 3-4 events ran in the
New York Times on June 21. In it he scaled back his estimate of
the death toll to between four hundred and eight hundred, and
dismissed accounts of mass killings on the square, saying they
arose only several days afterwards and contradicted stories told
immediately by "Chinese and foreigners who were on the square all
night."
ABC's Ted Koppel, in a primetime special on June 27, tried to
combine the immediacy of television with the historical chronicle
usually delivered in print, and offered so-me new insights into
the sequence of events. Koppel, like the Los Angeles Times
supplement, tackled the question of whether a bloody
confrontation between the army and the citizens of Beijing could
have been averted, and concluded that the crucial decision was
made on May 27 when a minority of the students on the square,
most of them new arrivals from out of town, rejected the leaders'
proposal to end the sit-in, and vowed to stay on until June 20,
when a meeting of the National People's Congress was to have been
convened.
"In hindsight," the Los Angeles Times report concluded, "the
protesters might have done better to vacate the square during
this last week of May. They could have declared victory for their
democracy movement and vowed to return some day. By abandoning
Tiananmen, they would have forced leaders like Li and Deng to
defend their hard-line stance inside the Party, where their
political position was still shaky. There would have been no
street battles and no bloodshed." This may turn out to be a major
point in the history books about the Beijing Spring.
The piecemeal, seemingly confused military approach to Tiananmen
Square on the night before the massacre continued to remain a
mystery. Koppel, in his special, suggested that it was an attempt
to seize the square that failed because Beijingers had been drawn
onto the streets in huge numbers by the incident on June 2 in
which three civilians were killed by a military jeep. Some
Chinese dissenters said the hesitation was a provocation designed
to humiliate the soldiers involved and thus justify the violence
used against civilians the next day.
Jeane Kirkpatrick, in a column in the Post on June 13, asked (as
did a column by reporter Jim Mann in the Los Angeles Times) why
the China specialists got much of the crisis wrong. "No one,
including the experts," Kirkpatrick wrote, "expected the great
uprising in the square, nor the brutality with which it was
suppressed." In general, this was a fair characterization of the
opinion pieces and interviews with sinologists we surveyed from
our eight sample news outlets. But not even the Chinese had
anticipated the uprising--any more than most Americans expected
Dan Quayle's selection as vice-presidential candidate in 1988, or
most British expected Margaret Thatcher's fall in 1990.
29. IMPACT ON PUBLIC OPINION AND POLICY
The Beijing crisis created a significant shift in American public
opinion towards China, which affected United States policy toward
the People's Republic. Public opinion polls showed China with a
favorable rating of between 65 and 72 percent and an unfavorable
rating of between 13 and 28 percent in the period from 1980
through March of 1989. After June 4, the favorable rating in
three polls dropped to between 16 and 34 percent, while the
unfavorable rating rose to between 54 and 58 percent, a swing of
massive proportions, rarely encountered in opinion polling. [The
data was compiled by the State Department Office of Public
Affairs.]
A strong anti-Beijing coalition arose from nowhere. Until June of
1989, there was a generally positive attitude towards China in
Congress, but it was more passive than active. Opposition came on
special issues, such as Tibet and China's harsh methods of
population limitation. It was based on the traditional
anti-People's Republic forces on the right. Post June 4 elements
in the anti-Beijing coalition included Chinese studying in the
United States; Chinese-Americans, who ended their long political
silence; protectionists who found imports from China a suddenly
vulnerable (and quite sizeable) target; human rights interest
groups, which escalated their attacks on a broad range of Chinese
violations, in addition to the crackdown on the movement; and
liberal Democrats in Congress, who had until then "carried water"
for the Administration's China policy on Capitol Hill. There was
also a partisan aspect to the shift--it was the only foreign
policy issue on which George Bush was seen to be vulnerable over
the following year or more. (32)
The impact of the crisis on policy was outlined by several Bush
Administration policymakers we interviewed. "The big public
opinion change knocked the policy tools out of our hands," said
one. "Policy on China was unmanageable [after June 4] and will be
unmanageable for a time." Said another policy-maker: "The major
impact of the event is that it sets the conditions of debate.
Look at Vietnam. The impact still conditions our policy on the
boat people, on Cambodia. This [event in China] will have an
effect [on policy-making] for five years and then will leave
behind residual images. The impact is very powerful. Whether it
will lead to bad policy, you evaluate case by case. It does take
more effort on the part of the executive branch." But was the
media responsible for the nature and degree of the impact?
Given the complex relationship between the event and the changes
in public opinion/politics/policy, it is difficult to determine
whether the media served simply as a messenger to convey the
event to these audiences, or whether the manner in which the
information was conveyed was a distorting prism that altered
perceptions.
Television was surely the key to the impact on public policy. No
images for years had been more stark than those emerging from
China. And, as the Gallup poll of July 1989 established, 80
percent of those who followed the China story learned of the
events initially from television, compared to 11 percent from
newspapers and 5 percent from radio.
Tom Bettag, former executive producer of the CBS evening news,
pointed out that television coverage of international crises is
of a different order from print coverage, which set the norms for
treating such events abroad until recent years (when American
television covered South Korea, the Philippines and subsequently
Eastern Europe). "Television was able to bring the people of
China to life as real human beings," Bettag said. "Newspapers
tend to leave them as conceptual figures, but television puts
real flesh and blood on the people. The immediacy of television
could make you feel like you cared about these people as if they
were sons and daughters of your friends."
This meant, however, that there was no distance between the
audience and the protagonist; that television had placed the
public on the side of one faction in a political and cultural
context that had been only fleetingly explained and was not easy
to understand. Bettag realized the dilemma, saying that "there
are huge dangers when one culture reports on another. People are
not alike.... Maybe it will get better with time."
Among those who learned of the events from television were
American diplomats in Beijing and Secretary of State Baker. The
State Department spokeswoman, Margaret Tutwiler, was credited by
the New York Times with persuading Baker to clap sanctions on
Beijing, by saying to him: "You've got to turn on your TV set;
you can't believe what's happening unless you see these tanks."
(33)
The initial images viewed by politicians and policy-makers, those
that "conditioned" the reactions which followed, were conveyed to
Washington by CNN, because, said a Capitol Hill staff member,
"the Times and the evening newscasts were a day late... [and]
there was not much time to read or watch media. It was CNN that
determined the base of events, throughout the Beltway. The images
of that night were the primary stimulus for the feeding frenzy
that took place here in Congress immediately afterwards." People
on Capitol Hill "assumed that the camera did not lie and was
basically accurate in the run-up to June 4, the events that night
and after," he said.
Harding of Brookings pointed to the sheer scope of the coverage,
noting that other acts of violence in China in the past, and such
recent acts in other countries--for example, Burma--were given
far less coverage. "What really affects public opinion and then
policy is the enormous play this thing got," he said. The fact
that such coverage was possible in the Beijing of 1989 was
something to applaud, rather than bemoan. The limitations imposed
by governments on media (especially television) coverage of
similar situations elsewhere, before and after Beijing, only
serves to prove that governments are aware of the power of the
media's depiction of violence. It is a power the octogenarian
leadership in China may have underestimated in 1989.
The specific claims of media distortion made by United States
government officials included:
-The emotionalism of television reporting and the "hot images" of
the hunger strikers, the "Goddess of Democracy" and the man
stopping a column of tanks.
- The idealization of the students combined with the media's
delegitimization of the regime, which artificially created a
Manichaean conflict.
- The failure of the media to warn before June 4 that "bad things
are coming."
- The showing of footage (by CNN and others) that misrepresented
the time and place of violence. - The exaggeration of the
casualty toll.
- "Discussion of civil war, hyped on CBS news, despite contrary
indications from our Embassy, led to eight thousand calls a day
at State. [It] panicked the American people. So we had to call
and evacuate all of China. Sure we saw the risk in Beijing, but
not elsewhere," said one government official.
Some of the government's complaints about media distortion were
borne out in the emotionalism and bias shown by several reports
in our sample, and by later statements by reporters. We noted,
for example, the Bob Simon feature that allowed emotion to
replace accurate facts about what happened on Tiananmen Square,
and Jay Mathews' statement that "[w]e didn't make enough of a
point that soldiers died too and parts of the crowd were real
tough guys." But several other charges by government officials
clearly are less legitimate. The rumors of civil war were spread
by American officials before they appeared in the press, and the
same was true for the exaggerated casualty toll. The media, we
found, did indicate after May 26 and before June 4 that "bad
things are coming," but given all the twists the story had
already taken it would have been rash to have assumed before June
4 that violence on such a scale was inevitable.
One of the journalists from our sample who has been based both
inside China and inside the Beltway, Jim Mann of the Los Angeles
Times, pointed out another aspect of the debate over media impact
on policy. "Press coverage always influences the way in which
United States policy is cast and explained to the public. I think
it has less of an influence--some, but much less--on actual
policy. That is, sometimes policy changes, but not as often as
public statements and explanations of policy change. It's the
latter that changes in response to press coverage."
Mann's point seems to be borne out by the fact that even within
the United States government there were different views of the
media's role in creating China's changed image for the American
public. In the White House the press was blamed for distortion
that affected the policy level. But Mark Mohr of the State
Department said: "In the end, the subtleties of the press, or
whatever was reported in the press, didn't make a difference. The
Chinese shot the people."
And in the end President Bush did not change his China policy
despite the huge media impact on American public opinion. "With
all the facts coming through," said sinologist Robert Ross, "what
did Bush do with those facts? ... He might have been wiser, he
might have been more knowledgeable, but he didn't change his
policy."
As for the media's responsibility for political impact, David
Caravello of CBS rejected the idea that the press should have
realized in advance what a shock the crackdown would be to the
American people and that the press somehow should have made
preparation for that. "Don't turn the incredible emotionalism and
power of the story upside down," he said, "by saying that somehow
we [the press] didn't prepare the American public for the
violence--that wasn't our job."
Al Pessin of VOA said: "If live pictures of things happening in
Beijing or elsewhere are on the television at the State
Department and it has an impact on their policy formulation,
that's not anything we have to worry about." But Pessin added an
important point which we would underline: "[O]ther than to make
us--or television journalists--more precise, more careful ...."
30. CHINA AS A REVOLVING DOOR
After the dust settled, the conventional journalistic image of
"the China story" had shifted. It was still the same country, but
it was now characterized by "repression" instead of "democracy"
and people's "power." To return to history for a moment, there
was nothing new about such an image of China. These were the
predominant themes in American writings on China during the
warlord period and in the immediate aftermath of the Second World
War. Nor was there anything new about these characterizations
replacing a totally different set of images that earlier had been
presented to Western readers.
But how could this be? How, in a brief span of several weeks,
could the imminent coming of a democratic China have given way to
such a bleak picture? Veteran journalist Stanley Karnow reflected
on the tough course of the American idea that the Chinese are
"perfectible." He pointed out, "Henry Luce put his faith in
Chiang Kai-shek, while Edgar Snow and others saw Communism as the
instrument of salvation. Both proved to be wrong."
One solution to the puzzle was to revert to the concept of
cycles; as Kristof put it in a May 21 New York Times article:
"the cycles of hope and repression." Indeed, many Chinese did
feel just that sense of China going nowhere, while the rest of
the world, including the Marxist world, underwent enormous
change. Yet to talk of cycles seemed tantamount to admitting that
nothing changes, whether in China or in one's understanding of
the country.
It was not in the nature of most American reporting to plunge
into fatalism--that was a more Chinese response--and, again
reflecting an earlier theme, a note of optimism remained even
after June 4. Southerland in the Washington Post on June 28
wrote: "[The scenes at Tiananmen Square] were as old as the
revolutionary ideas of freedom and democracy ... how easily
Communist leaders can still resort to brute force when their
power is threatened. But it is difficult to imagine how a
totalitarian state can be rebuilt once it begins to crumble."
Perhaps such optimism was pre-mature, but all the same it was in
the reformist tradition that had informed earlier American
journalistic writings on China. For all of the differences
between the tradition of the American pioneers in covering China
and the more technically-oriented Journalists of 1989, an
irrepressible spirit of progress did lie within much of the 1989
reporting. Some of it may have been inspired by changes in the
Soviet Union and the growing democracy movements in Eastern
Europe. It gave vision and a sense of the universalism of the
Chinese students' cause to the articles and broadcasts. The same
tradition may also have made some American reporters too
optimistic about Zhao Ziyang's chances of besting the Leninist
old guard, and too inclined to see Li Peng as a man with feet of
clay.