THE ENEMY WITHIN:The Effect of “Private Censorship”on Press Freedom and How toConfront It—An Israeli Perspective

by

Moshe Negbi

Discussion Paper D-35November 1998

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The Joan Shorenstein Center

Harvard UniversityJohn F. Kennedy School of Government

PRESS POLITICS

PUBLIC POLICY

Copyright© 1998, President and Fellows of Harvard CollegeAll rights reserved

The Joan Shorenstein Centeron the Press, Politics and Public PolicyJohn F. Kennedy School of Government

Harvard University79 John F. Kennedy Street

Cambridge, MA 02138Telephone (617) 495-8269 • Fax: (617) 495-8696

Web Site Address: http://ksgwww.harvard.edu/~presspol/home.htm

Moshe Negbi 1

The Israeli press is one of the most vigorous,complex and diverse in the world. It has its ori-gins in a rich cultural and historic mixture.Among the elements are an almost genetic urgeto get at the truth, a democratic setting that isunique in an authoritarian neighborhood, andplain old stubbornness and disregard for authority.

The mythic story of Jewish scholars assem-bled to define what it means to be Jewish comesto mind. To be Jewish, the moderator observedthoughtfully, means to object. Quickly a handshot up. “I object,” the dissident declared.

It is no wonder, then, that Israeli journal-ists would rebel against censorship, by the gov-ernment, commercial interests and even theirown owners. Moshe Negbi, richly experienced inprint and television journalism, writes of allforms of censorship with authority: The censor-ship of Arab war preparations before the YomKippur war of 1973 by a government fearful ofdemoralizing the public; a leading newspaper’sretraction of a series of articles about irregulari-ties in a large corporation.

Israeli journalists, for the most part, arededicated to uncovering the truth and passing onthe information to their viewers and readers. Alandmark Supreme Court decision has limitedwhat the government can censor to materialwhose publication probably would imperilnational security or public order.

This may not seem all that progressive toan American First Amendment junkie, honed onthe views of Justices William O. Douglas andHugo L. Black. But Israel has no First Amend-ment, and most of its neighbors have only a nod-ding acquaintance with free speech.

David Ben-Gurion, the first prime minister,once contemptuously dismissed a newspaper’scriticism: “What is a newspaper anyway?Somebody with money establishes a business,hires servants and they write whatever hedirects them to write.” Yitzhak Rabin, accusingeditors of sensationalizing terrorist attacks,remarked: “They do what sells papers.”

Well not really. The press practices thathave developed over only 50 years are quiteremarkable in their assertion of independence,not only from censorship but from a governmentor otherwise official line.

Unfortunately, this zeal, when combinedwith an acute sense of competition, sometimesproduces erratic and inaccurate news accounts.There is too much gotcha journalism. But all

that goes on in America, too, after more than200 years of experimentation with freedom. Oneanswer may be governments that provide moreinformation and withhold the spin.

There probably is no way though, to slowthe concentration of the media in fewer andfewer hands, in both countries. The rapid disap-pearance of distinctly separate radio networks inAmerica poses a particular risk.

Israel has abandoned, probably forever, itssocialist tradition and there are big bucks to bemade in journalism properties. Newspapers con-trolled by political parties or by benevolent own-ers are also a thing of the past.

These trends are not conducive to pressfreedom, especially not to the kind of investiga-tive journalism that seeks to pry informationfrom uptight bureaucrats or plutocrats.

And Israeli courts have been sympathetic tothe self-censorship of newspaper owners evenwhile cutting down government censors. A richowner in Israel can pretty much have his own wayin the pages of his newspaper. Editors and writerscan and will quit in protest, as in America, but itis not difficult to find replacements.

Happily, editorial pages seem to be buckingthe trend toward concentration. Diversity ofviews is as rich as ever, again possibly a reflec-tion of a tradition that predates Herzl and Ben-Gurion by centuries.

Of course, Israel has a special problem: itlives in a dangerous neighborhood among ene-mies who would seek to destroy it either bymeans of terrorism or traditional warfare. Thequestion is whether security is better served bykeeping information from the people or by keep-ing the public informed. Wouldn’t Israel havebeen better off if self-censoring editors had notkilled stories warning of massive Arab buildupsat the nation’s borders in the days before the1973 war? Certainly, the Israeli governmentknew about the buildups. And so, of course, didthe Arab governments who were about to strike.Only the Israeli people were kept in the dark.

As Moshe Negbi explains, sometimes cen-sorship can take strange twists. He relates howthe Israeli media in 1985 collectively decided toself-censor a Cabinet decision to release 1,150terrorists in exchange for the return of 6 Israelisoldiers who had been abducted in Lebanon.The military censor did not object to informingthe public, Negbi recalls. In fact, the Armywished the story would come out in the hope a

INTRODUCTION

2 The Enemy Within

public outcry would compel the Cabinet toreverse itself.

A word or two should be said, also, inpraise of Israel’s press officers. My own experi-ence largely has been limited to the diplomaticbeat. But over a quarter-century of dealing withthe Embassy as AP’s State Department corre-spondent I have been extremely impressed withtheir honesty and particularly with their nottrying to cast events in a favorable light. From

Avi Pazner to Ruth Yaron to Gadi Baltianskyand all the others who held the difficult job,there has been a consistent practice of tellingthe truth even if the truth may be embarrassing.And without the spin many American publiciststry to place on a story.

Barry SchweidState Department Chief Correspondent Associated Press

Moshe Negbi 3

“What is a newspaper anyway? Somebody with moneyestablishes a business, hires servants and they writewhatever he tells them to write.”

—Prime-Minister David Ben-Gurion in parliament, April 1951

“The commercialization of the media has become amajor factor in depicting events, especially in Israel [..]They do what sells papers.”

—Prime-Minister Yitzhak Rabin in an interview with Marvin Kalb, March 1995

“There are those who make a living out of informationthey publish, and there are those who make a living outof information they do not publish.”

—Justice Mishael Cheshin, in a Supreme Court Judgment, August 1996

Introduction: The Nature and Hazards of“Private Censorship”

Traditionally the struggle for press freedomhas been waged against the state. Publishers, edi-tors, and journalists alike have fought to pre-vent, modify or abolish legislation which gavethe government power to censor publications.However in well-established democracies wherereasonable safeguards for protecting the pressfrom official intervention were achieved, it hasbecome evident that the state is not the onlymenace threatening the uninhibited flow ofinformation and ideas to the public. Sometimesthe state is not even the major menace. It seemsthat the all-powerful censors in such advanceddemocracies are no longer politicians or govern-ment officials but rather the “enemies within”—the people who own the media and consequentlyenjoy tremendous power to control its editorialcontents and the access to it. These people mayuse their power to censor both information andopinion, which are not to their liking or whichthey perceive as detrimental to their interests.

Their motivation for censoring may differ, butthe impact may be as harmful as the impact ofstate censorship. As American legal scholar A. J.Barron has observed: “Increasingly private cen-sorship serves to suppress ideas as thoroughlyand as rigidly as the worst government censor”(Barron 1973:321). A similar sentiment wasvoiced on the other side of the ocean by thegreat British jurist Lord Radcliffe: “A man mayglitter with new and valuable ideas or burn withwise thoughts [ . . . ] but if he is to communicatethem [ . . . ] he has to render them acceptable tothe real licensers of thoughts today [ . . . ] thepublishers” (Radcliffe 1968: 162).

Some may object to the use of the term“censorship” in this context. For them thisterm means a complete brutal suppression ofdissenting voices coupled with severe punish-ment entailing loss of liberty and even life forthe dissenter. It is true that this brutal type ofcensorship is applied by governments only,since governments usually enjoy a monopolyover using and applying such forceful sanctions.It is also true that it is the more inhumane typeof censorship. But let me submit that this is notthe only type. Freud has observed there is pro-found moral difference between burning dis-senters or “just” burning their books, but inboth cases those dissenters are censored (Jansen1991: 20). If you assume that Freedom of Speechmeans not only the ability to speak but the abil-ity to communicate—not only to utter a dis-senting voice but also to make it heard byothers—then reducing it to an inaudible whispercan be fairly termed “censorship.” And in ourera when you deny a dissenting voice access tothe mass media—you practically reduce it to aninaudible whisper. Indeed private persons ororganizations cannot stop people from utteringinformation or ideas, but they can certainlyreduce the audibility of their utterances to adegree that renders them insignificant.

As Lord Radcliffe said, “it probably doesnot much matter to the man whose nonconfor-mity disqualifies him from breaking through thebarrier whether the source of obstruction is aninstrument of government or what we like tospeak of as an independent agency. In eitherevent it is the public that loses by the impover-ishment of its culture” (Radcliffe 1968:163).

THE ENEMY WITHIN: The Effect of “Private Censorship” on PressFreedom and How to Confront It—An Israeli Perspective

by Moshe Negbi

Moshe Negbi was a Fellow at the Shorenstein Centerin the Fall of 1997. He is a senior lecturer at theHebrew University, columnist for Maariv daily news-paper, and anchorman and legal commentator onIsrael Radio and TV. He can be reached at theCommunication Department, Hebrew University,Jerusalem.

4 The Enemy Within

Moreover it is submitted that this “privatecensorship”—even if it is not inhumanely brutal—is often more effective and restrictivethan government censorship. When a stateorgan censors, the press can protest and mobi-lize public opinion. It can also try to combat the censor in the court. And in extreme cases it can even decide to break the law by publish-ing the censored information (“publish and bedamned”). However when censorship originateswithin the media itself—there is usually no onewilling or able to protest, and no forum uponwhich to stage the protest. Thus the public atlarge has almost no chance to suspect that infor-mation or opinion had been censored.

It seems that most people are oblivious of“private censorship” and its threat. Thisunawareness makes it all the more difficult tocombat. But this is not the only difficulty.There are also constitutional hurdles. Since“private censorship” takes place in privately-owned media, and is enforced by the owner,both the legislature and the judiciary—even ifthey are aware of it—are quite reluctant tointerfere. Such interference may be deemed astrampling on the owner’s freedom of speech andright of property. It may seem presumptuous,perhaps outrageous, to tell or force someonewho has invested a lot of money in acquiring amedium of communication in order to publishhis or her views and convictions (or to makemoney), to let it be used to rebut those viewsand convictions, or in a way that will cause himor her to lose money. Media critic A. J. Lieblinghas argued that freedom of the press means free-dom of speech for the owner of that press (Baker1994) and that censoring his or her own newspa-per (or mouthpiece, if you like), is actually alegitimate exercise of that freedom. Thus thechallenge of combating “private” censorshiprequires understanding that we must protectand guarantee not only “freedom of the press”in its classic meaning but also the freedom ofthe journalist.

The older and better known type of “pri-vate censorship” is the one which is motivatedby ideology, i.e., the publisher’s will to serve thepublic good. If a publisher believes that publish-ing a certain news story or opinion may harmthe “public good” or the “national interest,” heor she suppresses its publication. Certainly,there are people who see nothing wrong withthis “highly motivated private censorship” (ofcourse, only when they share the publisher’sview of the “public good” or the “national inter-est”). On the contrary, they term this “private

censorship” responsibility and applaud it. Theyclaim that if the press is patriotic it should beresponsible and not publish anything whichmight be detrimental to national interest. Thisargument apparently makes sense, but only ifyou forget that the very notion of a pre-deter-mined “national interest” or “public good” runscontrary to basic democratic premises. Actuallyit is a Leninist notion, and Lenin advocated nei-ther democracy nor freedom of the press. Indeedhe complained he did not understand the idea ofa free press: “Why should a government whichis doing what is right and just allow criticism?It would not have allowed the use of lethalweapons against it and ideas are far more lethalthan guns.”1

The democratic answer to Lenin’s query(and to the argument of the supporters of “pri-vate censorship” for the sake of “national inter-est”) is that no one, including the people whogovern (and certainly including publishers) canclaim to know what is right and just. They maybelieve a certain policy to be right and just, but(because no human being is infallible) they mayalso be totally wrong. Democratic premises holdthat since no mortal has knowledge about whatis right and just, it is best to allow all persons topresent their beliefs about what is right and justand let these beliefs compete in the free market-place of ideas.

In the famous words of Justice OliverWendell Holmes: “When men have realized thattime has upset many fighting faiths, they maycome to believe [ . . . ] that the ultimate gooddesired is better reached by free trade in ideas [ . . . ] we should be eternally vigilant againstattempts to check the expression of opinionsthat we loathe and believe fraught with death.”2

Certainly this vigilance is also needed when theexpression of seemingly “death-fraught” opin-ions is checked not by the government, but bywell-intentioned publishers.

Israel’s short history has already exempli-fied the danger inherent in well-intentioned“private censorship.” Actually such censorshipmade all the media guilty accomplices in themost traumatic military catastrophe that hadbefallen the country so far—the surprise attackby Egypt and Syria which initiated the October1973 “Yom Kippur” war. A week before hostili-ties broke out the Israeli media decided collec-tively and voluntarily to censor reports by theirown correspondents and to suppress wirereports about the heavy build-up of enemyforces on Israel’s borders. The motivation forthis self-censorship was the media’s high regard

Moshe Negbi 5

for the invincibility of the Israeli army and theinfallibility of its intelligence service (whichassessed the build-up was for maneuvers only),and especially its concern that the publicationof the reports would cause panic which wouldgenerate escalation. Therefore when YaakovErez, the military correspondent of the highest-circulation newspaper at the time, Maariv,wanted to publish an exclusive interview withan army colonel saying the “whole Syrian armyis on the border” the interview was suppressedand he was warned by his boss “not to scare ourreaders” (Negbi 1985:87). Of course, the bosscensoring Erez felt that he was acting in a veryresponsible fashion, but the dire consequencesshow how grossly irresponsible such censorshipmay be.

But most “private censorship” does noteven pretend to be responsible and patriotic.True, the distinction between ideologically andotherwise motivated censorship is sometimesblurred. Publishers may, for example, censorradical views because they think they are badfor society at large but also for their business(Hollingsworth 1986). When we shall focus hereon commercially-motivated “private censor-ship” we shall speak of suppression or distortionof stories or opinions which the publisher feelswould diminish profit or make him or her losemoney. This “censorship” is especially effectiveand pervasive because while an intelligentreader may discern the ideological bias of a pub-lisher, almost no one can be aware of his or herbusiness interests at any given time and there-fore of the possible bias which colors news andviews in his or her paper. “Private censorship”can also be motivated by the financial interestsof the publisher both inside and outside thecommunication medium he owns. If, for exam-ple, the publisher is interested in buying real-estate in a certain region he might censorstories which would cause prices in that regionto go up. Then there are the financial interestsof the communication medium itself. These aredependent mainly on advertising and circulation(or ratings). No doubt advertising is the domi-nant concern. As A. Roy Megary, publisher ofthe Toronto Globe & Mail rightly predicted inthe eighties, “By 1990, publishers of mass circu-lation daily newspapers will finally stop kiddingthemselves that they are in the newspaper busi-ness and admit that they are primarily in thebusiness of carrying advertising messages.”3 Thesame holds true in Israel. Advertising is the eco-nomic mainstay of newspapers. AmnonAbramovitz, one of Israel’s prominent colum-

nists, calculated that for every Israeli Shekel anewspaper gets from its readers, it earns 3–5Shekels from advertising.4 This may cause theowners to direct their editors and journalists notto publish or broadcast stories which wouldannoy advertisers. Sometimes such stories arevery important for the public to know. Themost striking American example is probably thealleged suppression of the significance of reportsshowing the health hazards in smoking ciga-rettes (Bagdikian 1983: 168–173), and even theprohibition to show “No Smoking” signs inearly TV news reports (Brinkley 1995:66). Butthere are also more recent examples (Baker1997). A survey in 1992 showed nine out of tenU.S. editors were aware of advertisers’ pressuresand more than a third reported those advertisersactually succeeded in blocking unfavorable sto-ries (Hamilton and Krimsky 1996:32). As weshall see, Israeli experience allegedly shows thatunscrupulous publishers may not only bow toadvertisers’ pressure, but also turn the tablesand extort more advertisements in return fortheir enforcing “private censorship” and sup-pressing stories which are damaging or embar-rassing for the advertiser.

Advertising is all important but a publisheror a station owner cannot totally ignore theaudience. We should remember that the amountand rates of advertisement often depend on cir-culation or ratings. This can move the publisherto censor stories which would alienate readersand consequently advertisers. It is submittedthat the fierce competition for circulation andratings discourages publication of unconven-tional views or coverage of unpopular causesbecause such views and causes make the audi-ence uncomfortable. Large scale production—andthat’s what the media has apparently become—must direct its catering towards the averagetaste. This may bar access to the media to theadventurous and the heterodox and thus againseverely restrict the essential free marketplace ofideas (Radcliffe 1968:179). The catering for themass audience and its limited attention spanmay also dictate censoring stories on complexbut highly important issues, or shortening andsimplifying them in a meaningless and distortingfashion. This of course happens a lot in commer-cial television.5 However, the motivations toacquire advertisements and high circulation arenot always necessarily interrelated. In somecases (high prestige or special-interest newspa-pers) the advertisers (and consequently the pub-lishers) are not concerned with the circulationand ratings per se, but rather with maintaining

6 The Enemy Within

a certain class or category of audience. But again this can generate “private” censorship of information and opinions which might alienate aparticular audience.

The effectiveness of “private” censorshipis clearly multiplied as the number of mediaowners diminishes. The concentration of themedia in fewer hands makes censoring muchmore tempting to the owner and much moreharmful to the public. If owners know thatmaterial they intend to suppress in their news-paper or station is likely to surface and reachtheir readers through other media they wouldprobably have second thoughts about suppress-ing it. After all, such suppression would serveno useful purpose and would just hurt theirmedium’s credibility. But in a concentratedmedia market—especially where there is crossownership of print and broadcast media—a greatnumber of people may get almost all their infor-mation and ideas about public affairs and issuesfrom media sources which are all controlled bythe same owner. Such a situation makes itmore tempting for advertisers and other inter-ested parties to apply pressure on the owner tocensor his or her journalists.

In the United States, where constitutionalguarantees of press freedom from governmentinterference are deeply entrenched, the hazardsof “private” censorship were recognized long ago,and analyzed and confronted ever since (Bollinger1976; Sunstein 1992). As much as fifty years ago,The Commission on Freedom of the Press notedthat “protection against government is now notenough to guarantee that a man who has some-thing to say shall have a chance to say it. Theowners and managers of the press determinewhich persons, which facts, which versions ofthe facts, and which ideas shall reach the pub-lic.”6 In Israel, however, the issue was very slowto surface. This is probably because the Israelimedia was too pre-occupied with fighting gov-ernment censorship. Moreover, given the acutesecurity situation, as long as “private censor-ship” was “patriotically”-motivated it did notraise much resentment. Only after the Yom-Kippur War catastrophe, some (but not enough)controversy arose about this kind of censorship(Goren 1976; Negbi 1985). But the issue of “pri-vate” censorship has really come forth with theadvent of commercially motivated-censorship.This came about because of several simultaneousmajor changes in the Israeli media map over thelast decade: The commercialization of most ofthe media and the demise of almost all ideologi-cal party-affiliated newspapers; the establish-

ment of the first commercial TV channel (chan-nel 2), and of cable TV, and the ensuing ratingswar; and the concentration of 70 percent of themedia in the hands of one publisher, and of morethan 90 percent in the hands of three publishersonly (two of whom cross-own newspapers andcommercial and cable TV). The situation wasaggravated when serious criminal charges of cor-ruption were leveled against at least one of thesepowerful “press barons.” Israeli journalists,media lawyers and academics—like theirAmerican counterparts—now find out how hardit is to resolve the issue of “private censorship”(Segal 1996). We will ponder their quandary andexamine the possible solutions, but first a briefglance at the official censorship that the Israelimedia (publishers and journalists alike) still haveto contend with.

Press Freedom in Israel—An Overview7

There are no explicit constitutional orstatutory guarantees for freedom of the press inIsrael. Moreover, there are plenty of British colo-nial leftovers in the statute books which have noregard whatsoever for that freedom and restrictit harshly. Israel is probably the only democracyin the world in which a newspaper needs a gov-ernment license to publish. According to the let-ter of the law, such a license can be refused orrevoked without giving a reason (Lahav1993:172–3, Negbi 1995:37–55). One of the moredraconian leftovers from the time of the BritishMandate is the military censorship. Accordingto the Emergency Defense Regulations of 1945which are still in force (and enforced), the cen-sor—an army colonel—can demand to submit tohis inspection any material prior to publicationand he can close down a newspaper if it disobeyshis orders.

The Israeli Supreme Court, however, dra-matically curtailed the censor’s vast powers anddiscretion (Segal 1990). Moreover, the Courtdecreed that freedom of speech and freedom ofthe press are enforceable legal rights in Israel. Ina landmark decision in 1953, University ofChicago Law School Alumni Justice SimonAgranat ruled that the government could restrainthe media only if there existed “probable” or“clear and present danger” to a vital interest.8

Thus an American First Amendment doctrinewas neatly and ingeniously imported and trans-planted by an American-born and educatedSupreme Court Justice, into the Israeli legal sys-tem (Lahav 1981, 1997:79–120).

Following this ground-breaking precedent,35 years later Justice Aaron Barak ruled that the

Moshe Negbi 7

military censor also could use his power only ifand when there was “high probability” that thepublication would imperil national security orpublic order.9 He emphasized that “because of theimplications security-related decisions have onthe life of the nation, the door should be openedto a candid exchange of views [ . . . ] it is impera-tive that the press be free to serve as a podiumfor deliberation and criticism in matters vital tothe individual and the community.”10 Thus it washeld that the military censor had no authority tosuppress an article criticizing the (then) head ofthe Mossad. In 1992 press freedom vis-à-vis thegovernment was—as were other democraticrights—strengthened when parliament passed anascent Constitutional Bill of Rights: The BasicLaw on Human Dignity and Liberty (Segal 1995).Although this Basic Law does not, in general,mention specifically freedom of the press or free-dom of speech, some Justices of the SupremeCourt, and especially Chief Justice Barak, haveclearly stated that they certainly view thoserights as an integral part of Human Dignity. Inthe words of Justice Barak: “Human Dignity suf-fers if a person is not allowed to express his feel-ings or if he is denied the opportunity to developby hearing the opinions of others.”11 Even giventhis generous interpretation of the Basic Law,freedom of the press in Israel has still no com-plete constitutional guarantees. The Basic Lawdoes give Chief Justice Barak and his colleagueson the Supreme Court the power to strike down“new” (i.e. post-1992) legislation which wouldinfringe upon Human Dignity, but not “old” (i.e.pre-1992) legislation. So the British Colonial left-overs of licensing and censorship are still therelurking in the statute books.

Ideological “Private Censorship”Ideologically-motivated “private” censor-

ship has prevailed in the Israeli media since itsearliest days (Goren 1976). Until the seventiesmost Israeli papers were party-affiliated andoften party-owned. In such a situation it is onlyrealistic to expect that the publication would betailored and censored along the party line.Moreover during the time of the BritishMandate the Hebrew Zionist press, in the com-mon struggle for independence, naturally allieditself with the Jewish political leadership. Afterthe establishment of the state the press found ithard to train its professional guns on its pastallies, and therefore was very amenable to thoseleaders’ requests to suppress stories whichwould distress or agitate the public or give com-fort to the country’s enemies. Israel’s acute secu-

rity problems made it easy for both media own-ers and journalists to convince themselves thatit is patriotic and laudable to self-censor for thesake of the “national interest.” One shouldremember that this “private” censorship wasutilized only if and when there was no militaryjustification to enforce the official censorship.The October 1973 Yom-Kippur War incident—described in the introduction—is a case in point.The military censor had no legal grounds to sup-press the reports about the alarming enemybuild-up. It was certainly not a military secret:the enemy knew all about it. It was a secretonly to the Israelis and it remained a secret onlybecause the media decided it was in the publicinterest to keep it a secret. The terrible conse-quences of that well-intentioned hush-up shouldhave taught the “private” censors that they areneither qualified nor authorized to determinewhen the “national interest” requires the sup-pression of information from the public.

Was this lesson actually drawn? Right afterthe 1973 debacle it seemed that it was. Themedia went through a time of soul-searching,crying “mea culpa” and vowing “never again.”But the vows were not perfectly kept.12 In 1985,for example, all the Israeli media collectivelyagreed to self-censor reports about the cabinet’sdecision to release 1150 convicted terrorists inreturn for the release of only 6 soldiers abductedin Lebanon. The military censor did not objectthat the decision—which was already wellknown to the Palestinian group holding the sol-diers—be also made known to the Israeli public.Actually the army hoped the story would comeout so that public outcry and opposition wouldforce the cabinet to reconsider the decision. Themedia, however, suppressed the story and mostIsraelis (including most members of parliament)learned about the deal, and got a chance toexpress their view of it only after it was carriedout. In retrospect it seems this extraordinarydeal had far-reaching repercussions on Israel’scapabilities to confront terrorism, and to urgeother countries to do so. It is unfortunate thatsuch a momentous decision was allowed tobecome fait-accompli without any public discus-sion, and it is a shame that the media wasresponsible for this.

Ideologically-motivated “private” censorshippersists in the (non-) coverage of Israel’s nuclearcapabilities and installations. Of course officialmilitary censorship is enforced on all storiestouching on the strictly military aspects of thosecapabilities. However this alone cannot explainthe almost total absence of media discussion of

8 The Enemy Within

the desirability of having such capabilities, or ofthe environmental hazards involved. The issuewas not seriously discussed in the Israeli mediaeven when Egypt thrust it into the limelight byvehemently protesting Israel’s refusal to join theNPT. As an Israeli philosopher and historian putit, on this crucial issue “Israeli democracy—sovital, aggressive and vocal otherwise—haswaived its fundamental responsibilities andlooked the other way [ . . . ] the military censor-ship is only an institution that oversees andreinforces the sense of self-censorship [ . . . ] theabsence of the nuclear issue from Israel’s publiclife is more a matter of tacit public reluctance toconfront the nuclear issue and less due to coer-cive and imposed methods effectively banningthe issue” (Cohen 1993:197–223). So ideologi-cally-motivated self-censorship did not disap-pear, but over the last decade it has beenover-shadowed by the more sinister and malevo-lent variety of “private censorship”—which iscommercially motivated.

The Commercialization of the Israeli Media

The advent of commercially-motivated“private censorship” was correlated to a funda-mental change in the Israeli Hebrew-languagemedia market. Until the eighties there was onlyone major daily newspaper in Israel which waspublished primarily for commercial reasons, i.e.for making money. That was Yedioth Achronothowned by the Mozes family. The largest andhighest-circulation newspaper at that time wasMaariv, which was also privately owned but notcommercially oriented. Actually it was con-trolled and managed by its senior journalistswho had resigned from Yedioth Achronoth andestablished the rival newspaper, because theycomplained the Mozes family was compromisingprofessional journalistic values for profit. Thosejournalists had only half the stock in Maariv butmaintained control of its editorial policies andappointments, including the most important oneof chief editor. In addition to Maariv and YediothAchronoth there was, until the eighties, theprestigious elitist Haaretz, which was deeplycommitted to the liberal ideas of its publisher-editor, Gershom Shocken, and several politicalparty-owned or party-affiliated dailies. Of coursetheir political and ideological inclinations col-ored and affected their news coverage and opin-ion pages, but this effect was overt andtransparent. Their readers were usually wellaware of the bias (Caspi and Limor 1992).

But today the situation is completely differ-ent. Yedioth Achronoth—still owned by theMozes family—has become the dominant dailynewspaper in Israel with an overwhelming circu-lation of 60–70 percent of the readership.Maariv—relegated to a far second place (circ.25%)—is no longer owned and controlled by itssenior professional journalists, but instead by theNimrodi family which also owns other vastbusiness interests and enterprises especially inthe insurance and real estate markets. Almost allof the party newspapers have disappeared. In theearly nineties, a similar trend prevailed in broad-casting. Until then practically all broadcasting—both on radio and TV—was non-profit in itsorientation and done by the Israel BroadcastingAuthority (IBA), a statutory body fashioned afterthe BBC. It was (and is) funded by a license feepaid by all TV set owners. But since 1993 therehas been a commercial TV channel funded byadvertisements and also local commercial radiostations. Surveys show that far more people arewatching the commercial channel than IBA(Lahman-Messer 1997: 66–87).

The Manifestation of Commercially-Motivated “Censorship”

The potentially chilling, sometimes freez-ing effect of this process of commercializationof the Israeli media on its editorial contentseems self-evident: when the primary motiva-tion for publishing or broadcasting is not toenrich public knowledge and debate, but ratherto enrich the publisher or broadcaster, it is quiteunlikely that he would allow (into his commu-nication outlet) news stories or views whichwould diminish his profits. A typical manifesta-tion of this censorship is to avoid stories whichmight annoy or alienate advertisers. The famousIsraeli novelist, playwright and long-timeYedioth Achronoth columnist, Amos Keinan,has revealed recently that one of the early andmost useful lessons in journalism he hadlearned is that he can criticize almost any one,but not an advertiser (Raz 1995/6:156).

The price for not learning this lesson mayindeed be extremely high, as an investigativereporter in the rival newspaper, Maariv, hasfound out. The reporter, Yoav Yitzhak, wrote aseries of stories in late 1988 and early 1989about financial irregularities at Klal Corporation,one of the largest corporations in Israel. Maariv,which was then still controlled by its seniorjournalists, ran the stories. Klal is the parent cor-poration of dozens of companies which advertiseextensively in the Israeli media. In January 1989

Moshe Negbi 9

all those companies stopped advertising inMaariv. For fifteen months the newspaper stoodup to the pressure, but then in 1990 it capitu-lated, apologized for the stories (which were notrefuted) and even published an announcementwritten by Klal which actually attacked its ownreporter! Only after Yitzhak was forced to resign,did the Klal companies renew their advertise-ments in Maariv (Yitzhak 1995).

A similar incident involved Israel’sNational Lottery—Mifal Hapayis. For fifteenyears it was chaired by Likkud politician,Gideon Gadot. It should be pointed out that thisis a very powerful and sensitive public position.Mr. Gadot had much to say about whichschools, community centers, hospitals, andneighborhoods would benefit from the huge rev-enues of the lottery. The lofty ethical standardsand integrity of the man holding this positionare certainly important to the public. Recently—only after it was made known that Gadot isfinally retiring—Yedioth Achronoth disclosedthat he abused his power in order to feather hisnest and to pay large salaries to himself and tohis girlfriend, for whom he created a lucrativejob.13 The question is, of course, why the news-paper revealed this information so belatedly?The answer was given in the story itself: “Mr.Gadot did not hesitate to use his power and can-cel Lottery advertisements in the local andnational press whenever they ran negative sto-ries about him.” Indeed one of those advertising“boycotts” by the National Lottery, whichlasted for more than four years, hastened theearly demise of the non-conformist hard-bitingtabloid Hadashot—which, for a short while,tried to compete with Yedioth Achronoth andMaariv in the popular media market. In itsfourth year (1988) Hadashot made the fatal“mistake” of criticizing Gadot and not retract-ing that criticism, and so was denied any lotteryadvertisements until it folded in 1993. A yearlater its publisher, Amos Shocken, complainedthat the Lottery was also “freezing out” hisother media outlets including the daily Haaretz,and a chain of local weeklies.14

Usually it is the advertiser who, by exert-ing pressure on the publisher, generates censor-ship. However, it has been alleged thatsometimes censorship is generated by the pub-lisher in order to court (or extort) advertisers.The Kol-Hair weekly in Jerusalem claimed thatMaariv publisher Ofer Nimrodi directed hisjournalists to compile embarrassing informa-tion on potential “heavy” advertisers and thenoffered to censor it in return for generous adver-

tising accounts. According to the allegation astar investigative reporter for Maariv claimed inprivate conversation that the paper earns moremoney from what it conceals than from what itpublishes! This was hotly denied and is now thesubject of a big libel suit in Jerusalem. In thetrial, a former reporter for Maariv, Avi Raz, tes-tified that he was requested by Nimrodi to asktwo big real estate developers questions thatwould imply he was preparing an embarrassingand incriminating story about them. “I wantyou to shake them up a little,” the publisherallegedly told him. Raz refused the request onethical grounds and the (then) editor of Maariv,Dan Margalit, later told him he was excusedfrom this task. Was he the only reporter toreceive such requests? Did all reporters refuseand then become excused? This remains to bedecided by the court, but it should be pointedout that both Raz and Margalit left the newspa-per soon thereafter. When Margalit resigned hiseditorship he accused Nimrodi of trying tointerfere with his editorial decisions (Etzioni-Halevy 1993:129). But in his libel trial testi-mony he denied specific knowledge of anyactual use of stories to extort advertisers anddismissed the Raz incident as insignificant.15

Usually star columnists are relativelyimmune from commercial censorship.Publishers are afraid such stars might protestthe censorship publicly and also defect to a rivalnewspaper, and that this would off-set any profitgained from censoring. But the immunity, as awe have said, is relative, and when the eco-nomic stakes are high enough for the publisher,no one is absolutely immune from private cen-sorship. Yaron London, a famous TV personalityand a star columnist for Yedioth Achronothrevealed that he was censored three times inthree years (1993–1995): The first time he wascensored was when he wrote in his column thathe hoped rival Maariv, which had just then beenbought by a new publisher, would succeedbecause competition betters journalism andgives journalists more job alternatives. The sec-ond time came when he tried to criticize cross-ownership in the media. And the third time hewas censored was when he tried to express sup-port for taxing the stock-exchange market (Raz1995/6:154). It should be noted that the govern-ment canceled the stock-exchange tax becauseof almost unanimous media criticism.

Now three censored columns in three yearsmay not look like much—even when we speakof a star columnist. But it is not only those threecolumns. As London himself admitted, after a

10 The Enemy Within

few arguments with management about theseand other columns, he has become sensitiveabout what topics are unacceptable to the pub-lisher and he refrains from dealing with thembecause, as he says, he is “sick and tired” ofarguing. So it seems that “private censorship” bythe publisher may generate further self censor-ship by the journalist himself (Raz 1995/6:155).In his third censored (hence unpublished) col-umn London raised the suspicion that almost allprivate media opposed and attacked the pro-posed stock-exchange tax because media-owners(unlike most of their readers) belong to thatsmall segment in the population which investsheavily in the market and therefore would havesuffered from this tax. Others have also arguedthat the Israeli private media tends to publishonly opinions which support employers ratherthan employees, big business rather than socialservices because those opinions serve the inter-ests and concerns of the publishers and theirsocioeconomic class. A well-known Israeli econ-omist, Dr. Esther Alexander, lamented that “inIsrael we have reached an absurd situation; ineconomic affairs there is one view only, at leaston the pages of the private press. Has anyoneever read there an article supporting pay hikes?”(Alexander 1994:20). The same question may beraised also about articles supporting strikes.

Certainly, no one can claim seriously theIsraeli media is monolithic. On the contrary—its opinion pages have become more and morepluralistic and cover the whole political spec-trum, going to all extremes. But it is submittedthat this pluralism is in political matters only.On socioeconomic debates radical left wingviews and their proponents get little or noaccess at all. As Yaron London’s experienceseems to indicate this omission is occasionallythe result of “private censorship.” It is furthersubmitted that commercialization has broughtabout in Israel—as in the U.S., the U.K. andother democracies—not only “private censor-ship” of particular news and views, but also ageneral overall tendency to censor or to avoidcomplex or troubling stories which are notattractive to mass audiences and might alienateadvertisers. Israel’s foremost communicationexpert and the man who had established televi-sion broadcasting in Israel some 30 years ago,Prof. Elihu Katz, complained that in the newcommercial TV channel almost all prime timeprogramming is escapist entertainment.16 Theevening news telecast was actually taken offprime time and is broadcast at a relatively earlyhour when most people are not free to watch it.

Unfortunately the public channel, afraid to loseits audience, followed suit. As a result theevening news, which in the pre-commercialdays had the highest ratings of all televisionprograms (90%!), has now a rating of no morethan 40 percent on both channels together(Lahman-Messer 1997:82).17 Another communi-cation expert, Prof. Dan Caspi, pointed out thatthe few public affairs programs which survivedcommercialization, also changed their format,tone and character into “infotainment.”18

I personally experienced the censoringeffect of this trend following the February 1994massacre in Hebron, in which a fanatic Jewishsettler shot in the back and murdered dozens ofkneeling praying Palestinians. A well-respectedand conscientious TV and radio broadcaster whohosted a prime time talk show on the then newcommercial TV asked me to participate in apanel analyzing the Israeli Army’s moral andlegal responsibility for the massacre. Heshocked me by telling me he could devote onlyten minutes to this discussion. When I sug-gested the topic merits at least double that timeand that I would think he should even devotethe whole 50 minutes of the show to it, he toldme: “You are absolutely right, but I cannot doit. My employers would kill me. They arealready complaining the show is too ‘heavy’ andnot popular enough. I had quite an argumentwith them about dealing with the moral impli-cations of massacre at all.” A few hours beforethe show was to go on the air I received anapologetic call telling me that the whole paneldiscussion was canceled. Instead the show ledoff with an interview with someone involved ina sensational domestic violence story whichmade big headlines that day.

The same trend has prevailed in the com-mercialized print media. The hard news storieshave been drastically shortened, and so haveopinion and analysis pieces. Complex issues areshunned and enhancing circulation has appar-ently become the primary concern. Thus, forexample, Yaron London and others have indi-cated that Yedioth Achronoth censored criticalstories about popular ethnic and religious lead-ers in order not to offend and alienate their fol-lowers which make up a large segment of thepaper’s readership (Raz 1995/6:159). Of coursethese leaders enjoy even greater immunity ifand when the publisher has a personal vestedinterest in their popularity. It was alleged by aformer reporter in Yedioth Achronoth that thepublisher’s sister (who also holds substantialshares) ordered to “kill” in December 1996 a

story he wrote about a much revered Kabbalistrabbi, Yitzhak Kaduri, who is believed by manyto have supernatural fertilizing and healingpowers. (This is the same rabbi Prime MinisterNetanyahu courted and whispered in his earsthat the “Left”—i.e. the Labor opposition—hasneglected its Judaism.) The reporter revealedgreedy and dubious practices by the people sur-rounding the nearly one-hundred-year-old rabbi.He claims the publisher’s sister is also a fan anda regular customer of Kabbalist rabbis and toldhim herself that she is a great friend of Kaduri’sgrandson and that Yedioth Achronoth is tryingto buy from the rabbi’s family exclusive rightsfor a book about his life.19 Perhaps the bestdescription of the problems “private censor-ship” poses to the honest journalist, was voicedby Israel’s foremost investigative reporter,Yedioth Achronoth’s Mordechai Gilat. He wasquoted as confiding in a novice reporter: “Theeffort in publishing a sensitive story in thisnewspaper is divided into two parts: 50 percentgo into bringing the facts, 50 percent in gettingit into the paper.”20

Concentration And Its Impact Since the eighties the Israeli media—both

print and broadcast—was not only commercial-ized, but also concentrated in a few hands. It isnot clear whether the two processes were inter-related, but their simultaneous occurrence cer-tainly multiplied the adverse impact of actualand potential “private censorship.” Today practi-cally all of the print media market is controlledby three owners; more than 90 percent of it iscontrolled by two, and some 70 percent by oneowner only! Moreover, the two major newspaperowners cross-own substantial chunks of broad-cast media as well.

The dominant “Press Baron” of the Israelimedia is Arnon (Noni) Mozes. His family ownsYedioth Achronoth, which has a circulation ofmore than 60 percent (at weekends more than 70percent) of the daily newspaper market. It alsoowns a chain of local weeklies—one of the twomost popular chains in Israel. It also has 24 per-cent of one of Israel’s three commercial TV fran-chises (which makes Mr. Mozes one of thedirectors of the company which broadcasts thenews on the commercial channel) and 30 percentof a cable TV franchise, which has a monopolyover cable broadcasting in many areas includingIsrael’s capital, Jerusalem.

If we stretch the point a little, theoreti-cally one might claim that Mr. Mozes haspotential control over all the domestic informa-

tion that many Israelis receive. If we take a per-son who reads Yedioth Achronoth (and 60–70percent of the newspaper customers do) andwho reads also the Mozes chain’s local weekly(and about half the readers do), and who prefersto watch the commercial and not the public TVnews (and most news viewers do)—Mr. Mozescan almost ensure that such a person would notbe “exposed” to a certain piece of domesticinformation (of course, if it is not importantenough to reach CNN, etc.). The only factorwhich makes this bleak picture of absolute cen-sorship power exaggerated and theoretical is theIsraelis’ addiction to radio news. Fortunatelyradio news is (still) broadcast by public radioonly. But this could also change. Israel’s presentgovernment is very eager to privatize and com-mercialize all broadcasting.

The second “Press Baron” is Ofer Nimrodi,whose family owns the daily Maariv (25 percentof newspaper readers) and also cross-owns 18percent of a commercial TV franchise and 20percent of a cable TV franchise. The third isAmos Shocken, whose family owns the rela-tively low circulation (10%), but highly presti-gious and influential Haaretz, and also a verypopular chain of local weeklies which competevery successfully with the Mozes chain all overthe country.21 Admittedly the potential censor-ing power of Nimrodi and Shocken is far lessoverwhelming than that of Mozes. Still itshould be clear that the concentration of practi-cally all private news media in the hands ofthese three, makes the use of such censorshipmuch more tempting and effective. It is appar-ently easier for an advertiser or a politician orany other interested party to convince three per-sons (or even four if we add the director of pub-lic radio and TV) to agree to conceal somethingfrom the public than it is to persuade a largediverse group of media operators to do it. At thesame time, the high degree of concentration alsomakes it much harder for the individual journal-ist or the professional editorial staff to resisttheir owner’s censorship or to protest it publicly.The owner is the journalist’s (and the journal-ist’s family’s) bread-giver, and if he has no moralproblem with the intentional concealment ofinformation from his readers or viewers in orderto enrich himself, then he has no problem withthe firing of a journalist who frustrates hisintentions and threatens his profit. When themedia market is highly concentrated the jour-nalist realizes that it is especially tough to findan alternative source of livelihood—his pub-lisher’s newspaper and all the other print and

Moshe Negbi 11

12 The Enemy Within

broadcast outlets that the publisher owns wouldbe closed to him. Then there are only two otherpotential employers, and they too may not beeager to employ a “troublemaker” journalistwho has shown disregard for his or heremployer’s economic interests.

Public Radio and TV are also not verypromising job options given their shaky positionand constant manpower cuts. So the concentra-tion in the media market may discourage eventhe most courageous journalist. Indeed the fearto protest and even to complain about censor-ship explains the rudimentary, largely circum-stantial evidence that one can find for itsenforcement.16 This makes the task of raisingpublic, political, and judicial awareness of thisissue all the more complicated. As Lord Actonhas said “power corrupts, absolute power cor-rupts absolutely.” Indeed one may be concernedthat the combined effect of simultaneous com-mercialization and concentration has made thecensoring power of the owners almost absolute.

The Role of the CourtsWe have briefly described the essential and

momentous role that the courts in Israel, underthe inspired leadership of American-bornSupreme Court Justice Simon Agranat, haveplayed in establishing (almost “inventing”) free-dom of the press as a quasi-constitutional rightin Israel (Lahav 1997: 79–120). We have alsomentioned how the contemporary SupremeCourt Chief Justice, Aaron Barak, followingAgranat’s footsteps, curbed the powers of officialmilitary censorship, subjecting it to the “Clearand Present Danger” Rule (Segal 1990).22

Unfortunately, the courts have not as yet playedthe same role in curbing “private censorship” inthe press. On the contrary, in two recent land-mark decisions they have unwittingly encour-aged such censorship. In both cases there werejudges who were quite sensitive to the hazardsof “private” censorship and tried to curb it, buttheir opinions did not prevail. The first decisionwas given in 1994 in the Jerusalem Post case.23

The plaintiff, Joanna Yehiel, a senior editor atthe paper for nearly 20 years, resigned togetherwith some thirty other journalists, protesting“private” censorship. She claimed that after thepaper was bought by Canadian “Press Baron”Conrad Black, she and her colleagues wereordered not to criticize harshly the then Likkudgovernment headed by Yitzhak Shamir and notto publish stories which would put it in a badlight. Under Israeli law, if there are circum-stances which make it impossible for a worker

to carry on the job, and he or she resigns—the resignation is seen as dismissal and theemployer is liable for damages. Yehiel claimedthat “private censorship” makes it impossiblefor journalists to carry on their jobs, and so ifthey resign—they should be fully compensatedfor their loss of employment.

The regional labor court in Jerusalemaccepted this ground-breaking argument. JudgeElisheva Barak decided that a clear distinctionmust be made between journalists and otherworkers and that “private censorship” is indeedillegitimate because it infringes upon the jour-nalist’s freedom and the public’s right to know.She emphasized that we must prevent a situa-tion in which “he who rules the media finan-cially, would also rule and determine publicopinion.” “Certainly,” she added, “freedom ofthe press does not mean that the public wouldget only information and opinion which areacceptable to one who has the financial capabil-ity to run a newspaper.” But her judgment wasover-ruled when the case reached the NationalLabor Court. This Court utterly rejected thenotion that the journalist enjoys distinct privi-leges vis-à-vis his or her employer. In a unani-mous decision, it ruled that when a newspaper isprivately owned, “the owner is allowed and enti-tled to push it in the direction that he likes, andto prevent publication of materials which pointin the opposite direction. A newspaper owner isallowed to chart the political, economic, andcultural line of his newspaper and does not haveto publish contradictory views. He may order ajournalist to write about a certain topic and togive him guidelines for his writing. The journal-ist is not allowed to refuse [ . . . ] a newspaper,even if it has mass circulation, is not obliged toexpress all prevalent views [ . . . ] The readerswho give it money will decide if they want tokeep on buying a newspaper which is slanted inits news and views.”24

The National Labor Court also rejected theargument that the owner’s censorship infringesupon the journalist’s freedom of speech. It notedthat “a journalist whose work was censored canfind another communication outlet or establishone himself.” The Court did not address thequestion of whether in a concentrated mediamarket this option really exists. The Court alsoemphasized the owner’s right of property. Here itshould be noted that the right of property—unlike freedom of the press—is explicitlyenshrined in Israel’s budding Constitutional Billof Rights—The Basic Law on Human Dignityand Liberty. Therefore, the Court reasoned,

Moshe Negbi 13

“much weight must be given to the right ofproperty, and in this instance to the right of aprivate communication medium owner to decidewhat material to publish and which to reject.”

The Court’s view was harshly criticized.Constitutional Law Professor Zeev Segal notedthat the Right of Property was not unlimitedand that the Court’s decision could be “thebeginning of the end” for press freedom (Segal1996:49–51). Six months after this decision,there came about another significant judicialvictory for media proprietors—this time in theSupreme Court of Israel. This was the decisionin the Bar Association Journal case.25 The edito-rial committee of that Journal had decided topublish an article by a prominent lawyer attack-ing the Bar Association’s president and his poli-cies. The editorial committee had stipulatedthat the president would get the chance to replyin the same issue. But when the Association’spresident read the criticizing article, he con-vened the governing body of the Associationand convinced it to pass a resolution prohibitingits publication. The author of the article peti-tioned the Supreme Court claiming the BarAssociation—the Journal’s owner—had noauthority to censor articles once they wereapproved by the editors. His claim and petitionwere rejected by a majority 2–1 decision. It isnoteworthy that the dissent supporting the peti-tion was written by the then Chief Justice MeirShamgar. In his opinion Justice Shamgar, a well-known champion of press freedom in Israel, andlike Justice Agranat, a keen follower of Ameri-can First Amendment jurisprudence (Lahav1981), had indeed shown deep unique under-standing and awareness of the hazards of “pri-vate censorship.” He emphasized that “if thecontrollers of the media will refuse access tocertain ideas [ . . . ] the ‘market-place of ideas’may become the ‘market for one idea only’” andthat this contradicts basic democratic premises.He also recognized the adverse impact of mediaconcentration, and noted that the media marketin Israel is indeed over-concentrated, and thatthe owners had already shown that they knowwell how to use (and abuse) the enormouspower this over-concentration gives them.26

Therefore he opined that owners should not beallowed to interfere in editorial decisions whenthis would stifle public debate or criticism ofpublic officials and harm the people’s right toknow. He pointed out that in such cases theCourt—as the guardian of public interest—should enforce the right of access upon theowner. It would not do so only if and when the

censored material can find an alternative andcomparatively effective outlet. But Chief JusticeShamgar’s opinion was not accepted by his col-leagues. The majority Justices ruled that thecourts had no business interfering with the deci-sions of the duly elected governing body of theBar Association which owns and finances theJournal, and therefore also enjoys the authorityto determine its character. So in the only twocases in which they were confronted with “pri-vate censorship,” the Israeli Judiciary proceededto enforce A. J. Liebling’s famous adage:“Freedom of the press is guaranteed only tothose who own one”(Baker 1994:1).

The Role of the Legislature Since the Israeli courts are apparently nei-

ther ready nor willing to curb “private” censor-ship in the same super-activist manner that theyhad curbed government censorship, one mustrely on the legislature to do the job. This is notan encouraging prospect. In general the Israeliparliament has had a terribly poor record of pro-tecting freedom of the media and of combatingall kinds of censorship. As we mentioned, forfifty years it did not abolish a single piece of theBritish draconian colonial legislation whichdenies press freedom. In addition, it enacted anOfficial Secrets Act which forbids public offi-cials—even after retirement—to reveal any pieceof information relating to their public functioneven if there is no valid reason to conceal it. Inthe fall of 1997 this Act actually allowed thegovernment to ban an embarrassing book aboutthe Israeli Navy, and to arrest and threaten toindict its author, a decorated retired Navy com-mander, even though the book was cleared forpublication by the military censor.27

If Israeli legislators have done practicallynothing to combat government censorship, onemay argue that there is not much chance theywould fare better when dealing with “privatecensorship.” Indeed they may even be morereluctant to tackle “private” censors than theyare to tackle government. Legislators are politi-cians, and politicians are wary of incurringmedia owners’ wrath or even displeasure. Acatchy situation exists here. If politicians setout to break the censoring power of the mediaowners, they first have to confront it and such aconfrontation may well cost them their politicalcareer. Today a politician has no real chance tosucceed in politics if he is denied access to themedia and especially to TV talk shows. And inthe highly concentrated and commercializedIsraeli media market the newspaper owners also

14 The Enemy Within

control the access to most of those shows. Thusthe power of private censorship can be used veryeffectively to politically cripple those who try toneutralize it by legislation. This is exemplifiedin the case of Dan Meridor. As Minister ofJustice in 1988–1992, Mr. Meridor fought forlegislation that would prevent cross-ownershipof print and broadcast media. A senior YediothAchronoth columnist at that time, IshayahuBen-Porath, revealed after his retirement thatfor this very reason he was forbidden to publishan interview with Mr. Meridor in early 1992,when he was struggling desperately to preservehis seat in parliament and in his party’s leader-ship (Raz 1995: 152). Thus it takes a conscien-tious and courageous politician to initiate oreven support legislation that can cut downmedia owners’ power. One can only hope suchpoliticians will be found and will survive.

The Role of EthicsUnlike the U.S., there is one accepted eth-

ical code for journalists in Israel. This code isenacted and enforced by the Press Council, a voluntary self-regulatory body which wasestablished in 1963. On the Council sit repre-sentatives of newspaper publishers, the journal-ists’ union and public figures (mostly elderstatesmen and university professors). TheCouncil’s self-defined goals are “to guard free-dom of the press and the people’s right toknow, to struggle against attempts to restrictthe flow of information and access to sources,and to raise the professional standards of themedia.” Certainly realization of these noblegoals entails the bold confrontation of not onlythe government, but also of the issue of “pri-vate” censorship. Indeed this was done in thelatest version of the Code of Ethics adopted bythe Council on May 5, 1996. A major and sig-nificant innovation in this Code is the stipula-tion that not only journalists, but also mediaowners and publishers are bound by its ethicalrules. Rule 4 forbids refraining from publica-tion due to political or economical pressures orthreats by advertisers. Rule 15 obligates theowners and the publishers to avoid any conflictof interests, to publish their names in everyissue, and to once a year publish (in their news-papers) a comprehensive report about theirbusiness interests. If an owner or a publisherhas a vested interest in certain fields this inter-est must be disclosed in all stories relating tothose fields. Rule 16 forbids abuse of the powerto publish or to refrain from publishing. Rule23 obligates the publisher and the owner to

ensure working conditions which would enableall journalists to preserve ethical principles.

All this is very commendable and impres-sive, but one might wonder whether it is effec-tive. As was mentioned, the Press Council is avoluntary body and so adherence to its Code isalso voluntary. It has disciplinary courts whichlitigate complaints of Code infringements, butit is up to the alleged offenders to decide if theywill show up for the hearing. Usually the dis-ciplinary court stipulates that its damning deci-sions will be published by the relevantnewspaper, but this stipulation is also not nec-essarily obeyed or if it is, the decision is buriedwhere only few readers would see it. The futil-ity of this voluntary mechanism can be demon-strated by the sad fact that not a single mediaowner fulfilled the clear obligation under Rule15 to publish an annual report disclosing thepublisher’s other business interests. No com-plaints were lodged against the offenders and nodisciplinary action was taken, presumablybecause of the fear that in retaliation the pub-lishers would simply order all journalists in alltheir media outlets to ignore the Council, andthus, in fact, dismantle it. So again it seemsthat in the struggle against “private censor-ship” you cannot rely on a mechanism whichdepends upon the goodwill of the publishers,but instead you need the legal sanction of legis-lation. The big question is, of course, what kindof legislation?

Imposing Fairness On All Mass MediaThe direct straightforward way to counter

“private” censorship” is to impose a legal obliga-tion upon the media to offer access to a widespectrum of views and to give all interested par-ties a legal right to present their version of astory. This way has been followed in the case ofthe broadcast media only—both in the U.S. andIsrael—under what came to be known as theFairness Doctrine. Under this doctrine stationswere required to present diverse and conflictingviews and give a right of reply to people or orga-nizations attacked or criticized in their broad-casts. The idea behind this doctrine—aselaborated by the U.S. Supreme Court—was that“It is the purpose of the First Amendment topreserve an uninhibited market-place of ideasrather than to countenance monopolization ofthat market.”28 The Fairness Doctrine as a bind-ing guideline for broadcast media only wasaffirmed by the U.S. Supreme Court in the latesixties29 but abandoned in the late eighties.30 InIsrael it still persists. All the laws governing

Moshe Negbi 15

broadcasting in Israel, public and commercial,include a section obligating the broadcaster togive appropriate access to all views and to dis-seminate accurate information.31 The IsraeliSupreme Court utilized this section in order toimport the American Fairness Doctrine to Israeland to impose it on all broadcasters. It reliedexplicitly on this doctrine when it ordered IsraeliPublic Radio and TV to give access to both sup-porters of the PLO (even when it was defined anillegal terrorist organization)32 and the Jewishextreme right-wing movement of Meir Kahane.33

The Court made it clear in 1995 that it wouldadhere to the Doctrine in dealing with broadcastmedia even though it was discarded in the U.S.34

It is noteworthy that the Court neveragreed to invoke the Fairness Doctrine as a toolfor censoring alleged unfair reporting, but onlyas a tool of imposing fair reporting. Thus, forexample, the Court rejected a petition to blocka documentary series about the history ofZionism on the grounds that it allegedly belit-tled the contribution of oriental Jews to Jewishnational revival—but stipulated that the peti-tioners would get a chance to present their crit-icism of the series in a panel discussionappended to the series.35 In the summer of 1997,the Court, following this precedent, refused tobar a broadcast on commercial TV of a contro-versial documentary film charging the politicalright and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu(personally) of involvement in the incitementleading up to the Yitzhak Rabin assassination.The Court did, however, insist that theattacked politicians would be given a fairchance to go on the air following the film andreply to the grave charges.

Can the Fairness Doctrine also be imposedon the print media? Can, for example, a pub-lisher be required to give access to stories orarticles which dispute the news and views hehas published? In the U.S. the Court hasdeclared that such imposition or requirementwas unconstitutional,36 saying that the FirstAmendment forbids interfering with the pub-lisher’s freedom to decide what (not) to publish.37

The Court agreed with A. J. Barron, who arguedfor a constitutional right of access, that some-times publishers abuse this power irresponsiblyand that “a responsible press is an undoubtedlydesirable goal.” But they nevertheless held that“press responsibility is not mandated by theconstitution and like many other virtues cannotbe legislated.”38

In Israel also, as we have seen, the courtshave followed suit, and declined to interfere in

the publisher’s prerogative and discretion (not)to publish.39 However a radically differentapproach was recently suggested by the ChiefJustice of the Supreme Court, Aaron Barak. In apublic address Chief Justice Barak raised as “anidea for discussion,” the possibility that fairnessand other virtues would indeed be legislated andrequired of private newspaper owners (Barak1996: 8–10). He cited his predecessor, ChiefJustice Shamgar’s dissent in the Bar AssociationJournal case40 which noted that there is a “con-stitutional failure” in the media market, whichallows certain publishers effective control of thestage and platform of public debate. In such cir-cumstances, Chief Justice Barak reasoned, “theprivate newspaper possesses control over thestage or platform through which democracy ispreserved [ . . . ] this platform is not only a pri-vate asset to which property law applies, thisplatform is also a public asset which the news-paper holds as a trustee for the public [ . . . ]Accordingly it must act in relation to this plat-form or stage objectively. It must not discrimi-nate; it must ensure true and trustworthyreporting; it must not enter into conflict ofinterest; it must act out of a duty of trust and itmust give reasonable and appropriate access.”He emphasized that “the proposed approach isnot intended to impose external censorship onthe private press. It is intended to preventunwarranted internal censorship; it is intendedto prevent the control of the minority over apublic platform or stage; it is intended to imposelimitations on power [. . .] indeed imposed in thehands of the private newspaper is the publicinterest in the free flow of information. Thispower requires [. . .] supervision and restraint inorder to prevent its misuse [. . .] It imposes aduty on the newspaper to act fairly, objectively,without conflicts of interest, and with equality,as someone owing a duty of trust to the publicis required to act.”

The Chief Justice has said this was just anidea “put forward for examination and debate.”It did raise vigorous debate in Israel. It does cer-tainly merit further examination, perhaps notonly in Israel. There are, of course, obvious argu-ments against it. Even those who justify impos-ing fairness on broadcasters tend to shy awayfrom the idea of imposing it on the print media.They would point out that the imposition of theFairness Doctrine on radio and TV station own-ers was based on the premise that they got fromthe state the monopolistic or exclusive right tomake money out of the use of a limited publicresource (the air waves, or, more specifically, a

16 The Enemy Within

spot on the broadcasting frequency spectrum).Therefore it may be legitimate for the state torequire them to use this resource fairly and tolet others have access to it. On the other hand,print media owners got nothing from the stateand therefore owe it nothing. Also they do notenjoy—like radio and TV owners—monopolisticor exclusive rights to operate their media. Youdo not need an allocated spot on any spectrumin order to publish. So as the National LaborCourt had said—if one is denied access in mostor even all newspapers—he is free to start his orher own.41

But are these obvious arguments reallyvalid? Does the option of starting your ownpaper and thus getting access to a meaningfulsubstantial audience and making your voiceheard in the free marketplace of ideas, reallyexist in the prevalent media market conditions?Isn’t it theoretical only? Is the practical, de-factoexclusiveness of print media ownership—cre-ated by the said market conditions (or in thewords of Justice Shamgar, by the “constitutionalmarket failure”42)—less restrictive and inhibitingfor free debate and the flow of information thenthat of broadcast media ownership? True, thisexclusiveness was not granted to the printmedia owners by the government, but shouldthis distinction really matter that much?Shouldn’t such exclusiveness—given the eco-nomic advantages it has for these owners—burden them with those “Public Trustee” oblig-ations that Justice Barak suggested? And as hehimself pointed out, he was not the first to sug-gest it. The Hutchins Commission has said thatas far back as 50 years ago “the great agencies ofmass communications should regard themselvesas common carriers of public discussions.”43 Buthasn’t it become clear that it is naïve to expectthem to do so voluntarily?

Then there is the argument that imposingfairness on the owners violates two of theirbasic rights—freedom of speech and the right ofproperty. Indeed it seems that telling publisherswhat to publish entails some re-thinking aboutdefining Freedom of Speech, or to borrow acatchy phrase, drafting a “New Deal for Speech”(Sunstein 1992). One may be tempted to ask:Whose freedom is it anyway? The pressowner’s? The individual journalist’s? The pub-lic’s? It may be argued, and it has indeed beenlong argued, that “the First Amendment doesnot intend to guarantee men freedom to saywhat some private interest pays them to say forits own advantage” (Meikeljohn 1948). It cer-tainly did not intend to guarantee men (and

women) freedom to silence or to reduce to aninaudible whisper news or views which threatentheir profit. The framers of the American Bill ofRights (and the Israeli Judiciary which followedin their footsteps44) bestowed freedom of thepress and all the privileges that go along with itupon the private media, not in order to enrichits proprietors but instead to enrich publicdebate. When the owners use their freedom ofspeech in order to restrict others’ freedom ofspeech, and in a way that intentionally stifles orinhibits public debate, shouldn’t the law step inand defend those others’ freedom? Isn’t it evi-dent that in such circumstances regulation ofspeech—by a legislated Fairness Requirement—will actually promote freedom of speech and notabridge it? (Sunstein 1992).

In the early nineties, it was probably anaffirmative answer to these questions about theright of free speech and a free press that movedthe Parliamentary Assembly of the Council ofEurope to resolve that “the owner of the right isthe citizen, who has also the related right todemand that the information supplied by jour-nalists be conveyed truthfully in the case ofnews, and honestly in the case of opinions,without outside interference by either the pub-lic authorities or the private sector.”45

As for the right of property, we havealready mentioned that unlike freedom ofspeech, it is explicitly enshrined as a BasicRight in Israel’s Basic Law on Human Dignityand Liberty, and that this was apparently themajor reason why the National Labor Courtactually recognized and legitimized the owners’right to censor the contents of their news-papers.46 Yet we should remember that under theBasic Law, the Knesset is allowed to restrict bylegislation even Basic Rights if such a restric-tion is “enacted for a proper purpose, and is onlyto the extent required to achieve that purpose”(Segal 1995). Isn’t preserving the free market-place of ideas a “proper purpose” which justifiessome restriction of property rights? And as wassuggested by media economist, Richard Parker,47

an analogy could be drawn with preventingusing property rights to restrict access to essen-tial resources, such as rivers.48

It is true that not only in Israel, but also inthe U.S., the judiciary was reluctant to recognizefree speech as a democratic value which justifiestelling a private person what to do in his or herproperty. This was demonstrated not only in thecase of publishers, when the court refused toforce them to give a right of reply to those theyattack, but also in the case of shopping centers.49

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As current U.S. case law stands, dissenters haveno constitutional right to demonstrate in suchcenters (and also apparently in the campus of aprivate university like Harvard50) without theowners’ consent. However this judicial positionwas criticized as having no substantial regard forthe value of dissent. In the words of one critic:“A serious commitment to the value of dissentwould treat cases involving claims of access toproperty where large groups are gathering as atest of that commitment, rather than as an occa-sion for [. . .] homilies about the ‘private charac-ter’ of the streets and sidewalks of shoppingcenters. Unless one thinks that the gatekeepersof the print and broadcast media afford meaning-ful access to dissenters, a strong commitment tothe value of dissent should tilt one towardupholding schemes of regulation designed toafford meaningful dissent” (Shiffrin 1990:99–100).

Because they are wary and suspicious ofany legislative meddling with the media’s con-tents, many—in both Israel and the U.S.—viewsuch schemes as dangerous. They warn thatonce the legislature—which is, of course, politi-cally motivated, and in Israel is always domi-nated by the government—gets the chance totell publishers what to put into their publica-tions, it will soon wish to tell them what toleave out. They argue that “the risks of distor-tion caused by the intervention by non-idealgovernments are necessarily and systematicallygreater than the risks of distortion caused [ . . . ]in a governmentally-unregulated communicativeenvironment” (Schauer 1994:12–13).

These are certainly legitimate concernsand I share them fully. Still one should remem-ber that once the legislation imposing fairness isenacted by the politicians, its actual enforce-ment and interpretation would be in the handsof the courts. As we have noted above, theIsraeli Supreme Court, when it applied theFairness Doctrine in the broadcast media, con-scientiously resisted attempts to use the fairnessrequirement as a pretext to “leave things out,”and insisted on using it only “to put things in.”51

As First Amendment scholar Fred Schauerhas noted, “there are undoubtedly good reasonsto believe that even public-minded governmen-tal action is frequently mistaken or misguided.But [ . . . ] then there appear equally good rea-sons to believe that the distortions of the puta-tively unregulated communicative environmentwill be equally mistaken or misguided, and theconsequences equally problematic”(Schauer1994:13). So it seems a case can possibly be

made for legislation imposing Fairness Require-ments, (or at least a right of access to peoplewho want to reply to criticism which was lev-eled at them52), if not on all newspapers, perhapsonly upon those which, because of their highcirculation or other market conditions, are theonly forum or stage upon which a dissentingvoice can effectively reach a significant audi-ence. This would also seem to conform with theposition of the Council of Europe that “Newsorganizations must consider themselves specialsocioeconomic agencies whose entrepreneurialobjectives have to be limited by the conditionsfor providing access to a fundamental right.”53

Preventing Concentration and Cross-Ownership

If one is shy or uncertain about tackling“private censorship” headlong there is also aroundabout way—preventing or reversing con-centration of the media market. This willdiminish the potential adverse effect of that“censorship.” A single owner would not be in aposition where he or she can effectively concealcertain news or views from a substantial audi-ence. Moreover, in a diverse media market “pri-vate censorship” may often be not onlyineffective, but also self-defeating for profit-seeking publishers. Most of their readers wouldbe likely to get the censored material elsewhereand when they do so, lose confidence in theirnewspaper. This could eventually lead to a fallin circulation and revenues. So a diverse marketmay hopefully discourage even the unscrupulouspublisher from using “private censorship” alto-gether. Finally, in a diverse, competitive mediamarket the individual journalist and the editor-ial professional staff, are in a stronger stance vis-à-vis their publisher-employer, and consequentlyin a better position to protest or even defy his orher “censorship” orders. They know that if theyare fired they will have more alternative jobswhich are not controlled by that censoring pub-lisher. And again, the existence of that optionand the realization that they may lose some oftheir better professional journalists to the com-petition may, at least occasionally, deter pub-lishers from censoring them.

It seems especially crucial to block cross-ownership of print and broadcast media. Mostpeople—even if they have access to one newspa-per only—also watch TV or listen to the radio,so it is extremely important that the contentsof news broadcasts are not controlled (andpotentially censored) by the same persons orbusiness interests that control (and potentially

18 The Enemy Within

censor) their newspaper. This importance hasbeen recognized by the U.S. Supreme Court.When, in 1975, the FCC decided to ban newacquisitions of broadcasting stations by newspa-per owners in the same media market, and thepublishers challenged this order, the Courtunanimously upheld it. It also upheld the decision to order the dissolution of 23 existingcross-ownership combinations in communitiesin which the only newspaper and only radio andTV station were in the hands of a single owner(in other places existing cross-ownership wasallowed to persist). Justice Thurgood Marshall,writing for the unanimous Court, held that theban on cross-ownership was “a reasonablemeans of promoting the public interest in diver-sified mass communication.”54 In spite of thisjudicial encouragement, the ban gradually fadedover the years.

So far, Israeli publishers have successfullyresisted legislative attempts to impose such aban in Israel. Although the original bill estab-lishing commercial TV in Israel did propose toban newspaper owners from having more than a10 percent share in a TV franchise, the legisla-ture gave in to their pressure and allowed thetwo highest-circulation papers to become majorpartners in two of the three franchises (Lahman-Messer 1997). In 1995 another bill proposing toban cross ownership was tabled by Likkud mem-ber of parliament, Benjamin Begin,55 but gotnowhere. As we have noted, Israel’s most power-ful publisher allegedly did not hesitate to use hispower to deny media access to a governmentminister who supported the ban on cross-owner-ship, and censored at least one columnist sup-porting it. Thus we see how the power of“private censorship” may, in fact, be used toperpetuate itself.

A ban on cross-ownership is the most sig-nificant anti-concentration measure, but not theonly option. A more sweeping measure is tolimit the number and scope of media posses-sions (either print or broadcast) a single ownercan own. It can be stipulated, for example, thatif someone owns a newspaper (or a chain ofnewspapers) that has a circulation of more than,say, 50 percent of the population, he would notbe allowed to acquire another communicationmedium or would need the approval of a publicofficial to do so. In France, for example, if theirtotal circulation was more than 30 percent ofthe market56 a newspaper owner was forbiddento acquire another one. Former Chief JusticeShamgar, in his dissent in the Bar AssociationJournal case57 suggested specific legislation to

prevent cartels in the media market. A similarsuggestion was also raised by the NewspaperLaw Reform Commission—a commissionappointed in 1996 by the Israeli government,and headed by the president of the Israeli PressCouncil (and former Justice Minister) HaimZadok.58 An inspiration for such legislation wasfound by the Commission in Great Britain,where acquisition of a newspaper by someonewho already owns one is subject to special andspecific statutory rules and conditions, includingministerial approval.59

Freedom of the Journalist“Private censorship” may be generated

by the publisher and the business-side of thenewspaper operation, but it cannot succeed andpersist without the collaboration of at leastsome of the journalists. Of course a lot dependson the individual journalist’s integrity and ethi-cal commitment. Without these—no laws orreforms can help. One cannot dispute that“value ultimately resides in the individual jour-nalist [ . . . ] whatever value journalism mayhave to society it derives from the individualauthenticity of its practitioners” (Merrill &Odell 1983). But it should be clear that even themost honest, conscientious journalist needssome protection in order to have a fightingchance in confronting his or her employer, justas he or she needed constitutional guarantees tohave a chance in fighting government censor-ship. After all, integrity means not only caringabout democracy, ethics, the people’s right toknow etc., and your professional responsibilities,but also caring for your family and your respon-sibility for its well-being. No honest, conscien-tious journalist realistically can be expected tosacrifice his or her children’s basic essentialneeds. Unfortunately under the prevalent laborlaw, as interpreted by the National Labor Court,a journalist who resists “private censorship” cer-tainly risks such a sacrifice. The Court does notrecognize his or her right to disobey censorshiporders. On the contrary—it apparently recog-nizes the owner’s right to order the journaliststo censor both information and opinion so thatthe paper can totally conform with the owner’sviews or interests and promote them.60

This legal situation must be changed andreversed, and given the Court’s judgment, thiscan be achieved, but only through legislation.The law can and should adopt the position thatrealization of freedom of the press and its goalsdepends—at least to a degree—on maintainingfreedom of the journalist; as the Parliamentary

Moshe Negbi 19

Assembly of the Council of Europe put it: “Inaddition to safeguarding the freedom of themedia, freedom within the media must also beprotected and internal pressures guardedagainst.”61 Therefore, just as the press was givenspecial privileges vis-à-vis the government, thejournalists should get special privileges vis-à-vistheir employers. The law should stipulate that ajournalist may not be ordered by his or her supe-rior to act in an unethical way, and if he is firedor resigns because he disobeyed such an order,the publisher is liable to pay punitive damages.It will be, of course, up to the courts to decide ifan order is consistent with ethical requirement,and it could rely of course on the voluntary butwidely accepted Press Council Code which—aswas shown—forbids suppression of materialbecause of ulterior motives. Such legislation wasindeed proposed by the Newspaper Law ReformCommission.62

Strengthening Public MediaWe have seen that the advent of “private

censorship” as a major menace on press freedom in Israel and the intensification of itsadverse impact on the media, were closelyrelated, as in other democracies, to the simulta-neous concentration and commercialization ofthe media market. We have discussed measuresto undo or reverse the concentration. It is muchharder, perhaps impossible, to undo or reversethe commercialization. It is unfeasible, undem-ocratic, and probably unconstitutional to forcemedia owners who are profit-driven to “mendtheir ways.” But what we arguably can and mustdo is prevent the gradual demise of the non-com-mercial public media that still survive and espe-cially public broadcasting. This is importantbecause we cannot maintain an open and freemarketplace of ideas if all main gates to thatmarket are kept by commercially-orientedguards. We have noted above that only the pres-ence of public radio and TV prevents a single,powerful media owner from controlling all of thenews flow to a large portion of the populace. Buteven if the legislature would be bold and coura-geous enough to confront the power of thisowner—by taking away some of his and theother two press barons’ media possessions, anddividing the market among ten companiesinstead of three—we might not be assured of areal diversity when all are profit-oriented. Maybethere would be more political diversity of opin-ion, which is certainly important, but not socio-economic diversity. One may assume that thoseten, just like the three now, would all tend to

suppress or play down labor union and anti-bigbusiness causes etc. And what is much moreworrisome, all would probably be eager to movefrom hard to soft news and from information toinfotainment and certainly not risk the wrath ofadvertisers by publishing controversial, sensitive,disturbing material.

All of this is certainly not meant to glorifyor idealize public media. It too can be unfair andpromote only the news and views of the peoplerunning or funding it while excluding others. In1988 I actually gave up my job at Israel PublicRadio because I felt my superiors censored criti-cism of the government. It is obvious that publicbroadcasting’s dependence on public moneymakes it especially vulnerable to governmentpressure. This kind of political pressure asopposed to commercial pressure, is certainly notless restrictive both to the journalist and to thefree marketplace of ideas. But the crucial point isthat it is a different kind of pressure affecting adifferent kind of news and views. When you haveboth public and private media there is a fairchance that what is politically censored in thepublic media will reach the citizens through theprivate media, and what is commercially cen-sored in the private media will reach themthrough the public media. And again the aware-ness that their “censorship” would probably notbe effective may deter both private and publicmedia operators from applying it altogether.Indeed there is no doubt in my mind that theadvent of commercial TV in Israel in 1993 andthe need to compete with it, contributed to morepolitically independent public broadcasting. Onthe other hand, the survival and (still strong)presence of public TV news and the need to com-pete with it is one of the reasons commercial TVnews has not degenerated in Israel as fast as ithas in some of the U.S. networks in recent years.

For Israeli democracy the importance ofpreserving and strengthening public media (evenat a high cost) was recently recognized and evenhighlighted by an extraordinary decision of theIsraeli Supreme Court, which actually saved pub-lic radio and TV from extinction. Public broad-casts in Israel are financed by an annual licensefee which all television set owners pay to theBroadcasting Authority. The fee amount is deter-mined by parliament. In the early nineties it wasdiscovered that quite a few years back an errorwas made, and that the amount of the fee wasraised by parliament not in a correct legal proce-dure, i.e. the Broadcasting Authority took a lot ofmoney from many people without actually hav-ing a valid parliamentary authorization to do it.

20 The Enemy Within

Returning all that illegally seized money imme-diately would have paralyzed all public broad-casting. Parliament quickly passed legislationpertaining to the authorization and legalizationof the fee-rise retroactively. A member of parlia-ment petitioned the Court to strike down thislegislation claiming it violated the Right ofProperty, a basic constitutional right according tothe Basic Law on Human Dignity and Liberty.Usually cases are heard and decided by panels ofthree, five, or seven Justices, but this time anextraordinarily unprecedented 13 Justices panelwas convened (there are 14 Justices on theCourt). Unanimously it held that while retroac-tive taxation in principle was unacceptable leg-islative practice, the “laudable purpose” ofsustaining public broadcasting, redeemed andjustified it. Chief Justice Barak, writing for theCourt, pointed out “the importance of the exis-tence of a public non-commercial communica-tion outlet, which is driven by wide publicinterests and not just economic considerations.”63

Democracy would be even better served if we had not only public-interest-oriented broad-casting, but also public-interest-oriented newspa-pers. Here we are not talking of preservation, butof revival and this is, of course, a much toughertask—tougher, but not necessarily impossible. InSweden, for example, there is a thriving non-commercial press which is subsidized by thestate (Hedebro 1983:143). The subsidies are givenonly to relatively low-circulation papers whichtake a limited number of advertisements. Thisseems to be a far-fetched idea: can a state-subsi-dized press be really free? One should rememberthat in Israel, as in many other democracies, thestate subsidizes theater, the arts, and even allpolitical parties, and it does not prevent the peo-ple who get this money from criticizing the gov-ernment and even struggle for its downfall. Inthe U.S., the government has subsidized publicbroadcasting for years.64 One may also considerthe idea that public-interest media—in all itsforms—would be funded by the money paid bycommercial broadcasters in lieu of their use ofpublic property for profit (Grossman 1997). Thusit was suggested that a tax on commercial sta-tions could be used to fund public stations,which would be awarded on the basis of demon-strated community support.65

The Proprietors’ Propriety The potential censoring power that newspa-

per proprietors have come to hold over the freemarketplace of ideas has generated a debate

among lawyers and journalists in Israel. Themain question is whether or not in a democracythe law can or should take away this power froma person who flagrantly abuses it in a criminal or immoral way. Is it legitimate to deny such aperson the right to control media outlets? Unfor-tunately the question is not only theoretical oracademic. At least one publisher—Nimrodi ofMaariv—was convicted of grave criminal chargesof illegal wiretapping of journalists (both in rivalnewspapers and in his own paper) and public offi-cials, and also of obstructing justice by trying tobuy the silence of witnesses. We have alreadymentioned that according to allegations whichare now the subject of a big libel trial inJerusalem, Mr. Nimrodi tried to use his mediaposition to extort advertisements. All this is, ofcourse, hotly denied. But what if this proves to be true? Is it conceivable that he would con-tinue to control Israel’s second-largest newspaperand become a major power broker in commercialand cable TV? Is there a legitimate way to pre-vent this?

This issue is related to the issue of the free-dom of the journalist discussed above. When Mr.Nimrodi was indicted he was also the editor inchief of his newspaper. Following the indict-ment the Israeli Union of Journalists and alsosenior journalists at his own paper demandedthat he resign the editorship, and he acquiesced.But since the law as it now stands gives practi-cally absolute power to the publisher to directthe editorial staff—it seems that this symbolicresignation did not diminish Nimrodi’s controlof the newspaper. One should also bear in mindthat in a series of decisions in the early nineties,the Israeli Supreme Court held that a public offi-cial—either elected or appointed—must resignhis or her public function if there is prima-facieevidence that he acted in an untrustworthy fash-ion. The Court reasoned that maintaining thepublic trust in the integrity of the persons whorule over its affairs is essential for the mainte-nance of democracy.66 It is true that a publisheris not a “public official” in the strict legal sense.But if one accepts the notion—as raised by ChiefJustice Barak—that a mass-circulation newspa-per is not only a private asset, but also a publicstage or forum, and therefore the person owningit must act as the public’s trustee (Barak 1996)—it may be asked if the proven breach of thattrust should not justify taking the newspaperout of his unscrupulous hands. Apparently themaintenance of public trust in the mass mediais not less crucial for democracy then the main-tenance of trust in public officials.

Moshe Negbi 21

It is clear that criminal entanglements, oreven allegations about such entanglements, maygenerate “private censorship.” Thus a debate hasbeen raging in Israel about legislating a generalamnesty for all, or at least just the white-collarcriminals, at Israel’s fiftieth anniversary. Wouldconvicted or indicted owners allow the oppo-nents of such an amnesty, and the argumentsand statistics they rely upon, access to theirmedia? The courts—both in the U.S. andIsrael—ruled that a convicted criminal shouldnot be denied freedom of speech even if there isevidence that he or she has abused it.67 But herewe are not speaking about denying freedom ofspeech, but about denying the power to restrictthe freedom of speech of others. No one is sug-gesting that the unscrupulous publisher wouldbe denied access to his or her or any other paper.The suggestion is that he should be stripped ofthe power to deny this access to others. TheIsraeli Newspaper Law Reform Commissiontackled this issue and came up with the follow-ing plausible recommendation: a criminal courtconvicting a publisher will be authorized by lawto declare him or her unfit to control a newspa-per. If such a declaration is given, the publisherwill not have to surrender his or her shares inthe newspaper, but will be required to put themin the control of a trustee appointed by thecourt and the trustee will run the newspaper.

This is certainly a novel idea, but it has itsparallel in other private businesses deemed torequire the maintaining of public trust. Thus,for example, a Judicial Commission of Inquirywhen it found evidence that their illegal prac-tices caused a devastating crash of the Tel Avivstock market in 1983, recommended the dis-qualification of the owners of one of Israel’sthree leading banks from actively directing theiror any other bank. The recommendation wascarried out. And again one may wonder if publictrust in the integrity of the media is less crucialto our society than public trust in the integrityof financial institutes.

Conclusion: A Matter of Life and DeathIsrael’s Founding Father and much revered

first Prime Minister, David Ben-Gurion, had notmuch respect for the press. When a newspapercriticized him and the criticism was cited andhurled at him in parliament by his long-timeadversary, Menahem Begin, Ben-Gurion retortedcontemptuously: “What is a newspaper anyway?Somebody with money establishes a business,hires servants and they write whatever hedirects them to write.”68 There was a time this

was just an amusing anecdote for Israeli journal-ists and politicians. Not anymore. As we haveshown, many Israeli journalists are finding outpainfully that they are indeed servants beholdennot only to their masters’ opinions, but also totheir business interests as well.

Ben-Gurion’s successors at the pinnacle ofIsrael’s politics are not amused either. In a May1995 interview with Shorenstein Center direc-tor, Professor Marvin Kalb, about the “Promiseand Problems of the Israeli Press,” PrimeMinister Yitzhak Rabin complained that “thecommercialization of the media has become amajor factor in depicting events, especially inIsrael; the impact of television ratings on thecoverage of events—their economic impact—hasbecome so large a determining factor in the waythat issues are brought to the people [ . . . ] eco-nomics has become a major factor and it influ-ences the dissemination of news [ . . . ] it createsan unbalanced picture of the events in Israel.”To demonstrate how commercialism sensation-alized and at the same time distorted newsreporting in Israel, Rabin cited the sensationalreporting about the Palestinian terror attacks.He pointed out that the headlines describingthose terror attacks, even when they were notfatal, were twice or three times bigger than thethose that some 30 years ago had announced theoutbreak of the Six-Day War. He also cited toKalb the explanation he heard from editors forchoosing these glaring headlines: “they do whatsells papers” (Rabin 1996: 106–07).

Less than eight months after this interviewwith Marvin Kalb, Prime Minister Rabin wasassassinated in Tel Aviv. One may only speculatewhat was the contribution of the profit-drivensensationalism he had complained about in cre-ating the atmosphere of panic and hysteria whichbred the fatal hate propaganda against him. Afterall, wild charges that he was betraying Israelis’personal safety and basic security needs in orderto appease Palestinian terrorists, played a majorrole in the incitement leading up to the assassi-nation. And it was not just the huge red head-lines (in Israel we have been talking in recentyears about “Red” rather than “Yellow” Journal-ism). The headlines were always accompanied byhuge gory bloody pictures of the terror victims.But one should pay attention not only to whatwent into the papers, but also to what was leftout. When there are such huge headlines andsuch huge pictures there is no significant placeleft for thoughtful rational analysis and discourseabout the deep causes of these outrages and theway to eradicate them. The hate propaganda

22 The Enemy Within

campaign against Rabin and the peace processalso fed upon this lack of rational analysis anddiscourse. And so did the campaign againstRabin’s successor, Shimon Peres. The “RedJournalism” coverage of the suicide terrorattacks persisted. At the same time the electioncampaign was also covered in a sensational way,focusing on the drama of the horse-race, the pub-lic opinion polls (which were incidentally proventotally unreliable), and the slogans, and not theissues. I dare say that most Israelis went to votewithout really knowing the terms of the OsloAccords or what was the alternative strategy ofNetanyahu to achieve his promise of “SecurePeace” (or if there was such a strategy). One sus-pects that their voting was determined not byfacts and ideas, but instead by titillating headlineimages and empty slogans. I personally knowseveral excellent political reporters who werefrustrated by this kind of coverage. They wantedto analyze and criticize the issues and to raisethe key questions, i.e. can we achieve peacewithout political engagement and compromisewith despicable terrorists? Is there a way to pre-vent suicide bomb attacks other then eradicatingthe despair which makes a person blow himselfto pieces? But they were told—like I was toldafter the 1994 Hebron Massacre—that theseissues were too heavy and were sent instead toreport the latest poll results or the latest livelyproducts of the campaign slogan copywriters.

It is important to stress there was nothingpolitical about this. I have no grounds toassume that the people running the mediawanted to influence the election or to help Mr.Netanyahu. But as Mr. Rabin has said, commer-cialism has become the major factor, and theydo what sells papers.

We have seen that this is not a uniqueIsraeli phenomenon. This phenomenon hasbecome even more obvious to me whenresearching and writing this paper at the JoanShorenstein Center. During the fall of 1997there were many manifestations in theAmerican media of “private censorship.” Wehave read about advertisers screening the con-tents of magazines;69 about journalists in a bigrespected newspaper worried over the pub-lisher’s decision to involve business executivesin their work;70 and about an editor of a presti-gious magazine losing his job because he criti-cized a public official who unfortunatelyhappened to be the publisher’s buddy.71 Certainlywe have heard many laments about how thequest for profit adversely affects political cover-age and news in general72 and even a description

of the field of news management today as a bat-tleground in which journalists must fight for thepublic interest “against corporate values.”73

Indeed I should hope the ideas discussed in thispaper are as relevant for the U.S. and otherdemocracies as they are for Israel.

But still there is a uniqueness about theIsraeli situation, which is well exemplified bywhat happened to Yitzhak Rabin and the peaceprocess. For Israel—given its limited sources andgrave security predicament—the quality of polit-ical choices, and of political decisions, is simplya matter of life and death. On these choices anddecisions depends not only the quality of life,but also life itself. A bad choice, a wrong deci-sion may be fatal not only for individuals, butalso for the whole country. We Israelis are not,as yet—like more fortunate peoples—in a post-war period, but are still locked in a mortal warfor survival. If we accept the basic democraticpremises that good choices and decisions aredependent upon a free flow of information andideas to the public, then it is self-evident thatpreventing any restriction of this flow to thosewho ultimately make the critical choices anddecisions—i.e. the citizens—is also a matter oflife and death. To put it more bluntly—we sim-ply cannot afford the election of a photogenicattractive leader on the basis of fabulously deliv-ered copy-written “sound bites” just because thepeople owning and controlling the media havefound it economically unprofitable to investi-gate and report and publish what is, or is not,beyond those good looks and slogans. This iswhy confronting “private censorship”—“theenemy within”—seems to me such a majorcompelling and crucial challenge for Israeli jour-nalism today.

Endnotes1. Cited in P. Lahav “On Freedom of Expression inthe Supreme Court Judgments,” Mishpatim 7, 375(1975).

2. Abrams v. U. S. 250 U.S. 616 (1919).

3. Editor & Publisher, 10 April 1982, 48.

4. He spoke in a round-table discussion on “ThePublishers’ Wars and Its Danger to Freedom ofExpression,” Ha’ir, 30 Sep. 1994, 34.

5. The First Annual Theodore H. White Lecture withWalter Cronkite (moderator: Marvin Kalb),(Cambridge: Joan Shorenstein Center, 1990), pp.23–26.

Moshe Negbi 23

6. A Free and Responsible Press (Chicago, 1947), pp.15–16.

7. See P. Lahav, “Israel’s Press Law,” in P. Lahav (ed.)Press Law in Modern Democracies (New York:Longman, 1985).

8. Kol-Ha’am v. The Minister of the Interior, 7 P.D.871(1953).

9. Shnitzer v. The Chief Military Censor, 42(4) P.D.617. For an analytic discussion of this case see Z.Segal, “The Military Censorship: Its Authority,Judicial Review Over Its Actions and a Proposal for anAlternative Arrangement,” Tel Aviv University LawReview 15 (1990), 311.

10. The Shnitzer case, supra n. 9, at p. 634.

11. A. Barak, “Human Dignity as a ConstitutionalRight,” Hapraklit 41 (1994) 271, at 280.

12. See especially G. Strassman (ed.) The Journalists’Yearbook (T-A Association of Journalists: 1974).

13. See report by S. Abramowitz, Yedioth Achronoth,Feb. 16, 1996.

14. Ibid.

15. S. Mittelman, “Dan Margalit Re-examined inCourt” Maariv Aug. 26, 1997.

16. He was interviewed in I. Rozenblum, “4000Commercials a Month,” Haaretz Aug. 10, 1994.

17. Haaretz, Gallery Section, Nov 5 1997.

18. See O. Galili, “TV’s new rules” Haaretz WeekendMagazine Sep. 30,1994, 12; Z. Blumenkrantz, “A RealRating Needed,” Haaretz 22 June 1994, 1c.

19. See S. Peretz “The People’s Right To Know,”Maariv Weekend Magazine Feb. 14, 1997, 32, at p. 38.

20. Ibid., at p. 36.

21. Report on the Hebrew Daily Print Media Marketpublished by the Cartels Authority in the Ministry ofTrade and Industry, 12 Apr. 1995; Y. Tikuchinski,“What Is Your Business?,” The Seventh Eye, Sep.–Oct.1996, p. 4.

22. Supra n. 9.

23. National Labor Court Case 3-223/93 PalestinePost Co. v. Yehiel (decided 17 Oct. 1994).

24. Ibid. Italics added.

25. High Court of Justice Case 6218/93 Cohen v. TheBar Association 49 P.D. 537.

26. Ibid. pp. 542–3.

27. See The Jerusalem Post Sep. 19, 1997.

28. See Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC 395 U.S.367 (1969).

29. Ibid.

30. See Syracuse Peace Council v. FCC 867 F2d 654(1989).

31. See The Broadcasting Authority Act (1965), TheBezeq (Telecommunications) Act (1986), The SecondTelevision and Radio Authority Act (1990).

32. High Court of Justice Case 243/82 Zichroni v.The Broadcasting Authority 37(1) P.D. 757.

33. High Court of Justice Case 399/85 Kahane v. TheBroadcasting Authority 41 P.D. 255.

34. See for example the Bar Association Journal case,supra n. 23, at 545.

35. High Court of Justice Case 1/81 Shiran v. TheBroadcasting Authority 35(3) P.D. 365.

36. Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tornillo 418 U.S.241.

37. It is interesting to note that the Court did notrefer to the Red Lion case, supra n. 26, decided fiveyears earlier.

38. Miami Herald case, supra n. 32, at p. 256.

39. The Jerusalem Post and the Bar AssociationJournal cases, supra n. 21, 23.

40. Supra n. 23.

41. The Jerusalem Post case, supra n. 21.

42. The Bar Association Journal case, supra n. 23.

43. A Free and Responsible Press, supra n. 6.

44. See the Kol-Haam case, supra n. 8.

45. Resolution 1003, (adopted July 1, 1993), sec. 14,italics added.

46. The Jerusalem Post case, supra n. 21.

47. In a conversation at the Shorenstein Center, Nov.11, 1997.

24 The Enemy Within

48. See M. J. Horwitz. The Transformation ofAmerican Law 1870–1960: The Crisis of LegalOrthodoxy (New York: Oxford University Press) 1992.

49. The Miami Herald case, supra n. 32; See alsoHudgens v. NLRB 424 U.S. 507 (1967).

50. See J. Gewolb “Student Activists Prohibited FromDistributing Leaflets at HBS” The Harvard CrimsonNov. 7, 1997, A–3.

51. See the Kahane and Zichroni and Shiran cases,supra n. 29, 30 and 33.

52. See D. Barak “Freedom of Access to the Media”12 Iyunei Mishpat (Tel Aviv University Law Review)183.

53. Resolution 1003, supra n.42,Sec.11.

54. Italics added. See for more details “Ownershipand Control of the Media,” in L. Sobel (ed.) MediaControversies (NY: Facts On File), 116–117.

55. The Second TV and Radio Authority(Diversification Amendment) Bill, tabled on June 26,1995.

56. The Act on Reforming the Legal SystemGoverning the Press, 1986.

57. Supra n. 23, pp. 542–43.

58. The Commission was appointed by the ministersof Justice and of the Interior on Feb. 6 1996. ItsReport was submitted to the Israeli government, onNov. 6, 1997. The author was a member of thisCommission. See Z. Segal “The Law and Freedom ofthe Press” Haaretz Nov 9, 1997.

59. See Fair Trading Act, 1973, sections 57–62.

60. The Jerusalem Post case, supra n.21.

61. Resolution 1003, supra n. 42, sec.10.

62. See supra n. 53.

63. High Court of Justice Case 4562/92 Zandberg v.The Broadcasting Authority (Judgment given June 21996).

64. See The Public Broadcasting Act 1967 and FCC v.League of Women Voters 468 U.S. 364 (1984).

65. Such a suggestion was raised by the Ralph Nader-affiliated Consumer Project on Technology; see D.Kennedy “Sound and Fury” Boston Phoenix Nov. 14,1997, 7–9.

66. See High Court of Justice Cases 6163/93Eizenberg v. The Minister of Housing (Judgment givenMarch 3, 1993); 4267/93 Amitai v. Rabin (Judgmentgiven Sep. 8, 1993); The Movement for Quality inGovernment v. the Israeli Government (Judgmentgiven Sep. 8, 1993).

67. Procunier v. Martinez 416 U.S. 396, at 422 (1974);High Court of Justice case 4463/94 Golan v. ThePrisons Service (Judgment given Aug. 25, 1996).

68. He was cited in a column by the then Maariv edi-tor: A. Karlibach “What is a newspaper?” Maariv Apr.6, 1951.

69. R. Baker “The Squeeze” Columbia JournalismReview Sep.–Oct. 1997, 30.

70. J. Sterngold “A Growing clash of visions at theLos Angeles Times” New York Times, October 13,1997.

71. D. Kennedy “An Unseemly Divorce” BostonPhoenix Sep. 12, 1997.

72. See veteran TV producer Don Hewitt’s criticismin P. Johnson ”Reporting Lost in Big-Money Era,”USA Today, Oct. 9, 1997, D1–2.

73. See B. Bazenburg “Love the Profession, Fight theIndustry” Columbia Journalism Review July–Aug.1997, 6.

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DISCUSSION PAPERS“The Rise of the ‘New News’: A Case Study of TwoRoot Causes of the Modern Scandal Coverage,”Marvin Kalb. October, 1998. Discussion Paper D-34.$2.00

“The Rise and Fall of the Televised PoliticalConvention,” Zachary Karabell. October, 1998.Discussion Paper D-33. $2.00

“Pressing Concerns: Hong Kong’s Media in an Era ofTransition,” Stephen J. Hutcheon. September, 1998.Discussion Paper D-32. $2.00

“Prepared for War: Ready for Peace? Paramilitaries,Politics, and the Press in Northern Ireland,” TimCooke. July, 1998. Discussion Paper D-31. $2.00

“Ijambo: ‘Speaking Truth’ Amidst Genocide,” AlexisSinduhije. July, 1998. Discussion Paper D-30. $2.00

“The Spokesperson-In-the-Crossfire: A Decade ofIsraeli Defense Crises from an Official Spokesperson’sPerspective,” Nachman Shai. July, 1998. DiscussionPaper D-29. $2.00

“The Business of Getting ‘The Get’: Nailing anExclusive Interview in Prime Time,” Connie Chung.April, 1998. Discussion Paper D-28. $2.00

“Shoah in the News: Patterns and Meanings of NewsCoverage of the Holocaust,” James Carroll. October,1997. Discussion Paper D-27. $2.00

“Junk News: Can Public Broadcasters Buck theTabloid Tendencies of Market-Driven Journalism? ACanadian Experience,” William John Fox. August,1997. Discussion Paper D-26. $2.00

“Journalism and Economics: The Tangled Webs ofProfession, Narrative, and Responsibility in a ModernDemocracy” Richard Parker. May, 1997. DiscussionPaper D-25. $2.00

“Spreading the Word: The KGB’s Image-BuildingUnder Gorbachev,” Jeff Trimble. February, 1997.Discussion Paper D-24. $3.00

“The Foreign News Flow in the Information Age,”Claude Moisy. November, 1996.Discussion Paper D-23. $2.50

“The Next War: Live?” Barrie Dunsmore. March,1996. Discussion Paper D-22. $3.50

“Post-Communist Eastern Europe: The Difficult Birth ofa Free Press,” Bernard Margueritte. August, 1995.Discussion Paper D-21. $3.25

“The Nigerian Press Under the Military: Persecution,Resilience and Political Crisis (1983–1993),” AdeyinkaAdeyemi. May, 1995. Discussion Paper D-20. $3.75

“Paint-By-Numbers Journalism: How Reader Surveysand Focus Groups Subvert a Democratic Press,” AlisonCarper. April, 1995. Discussion Paper D-19. $2.75

“Hispanic Voices: Is the Press Listening?,” JorgeQuiroga. January, 1995. Discussion Paper D-18. $3.00

“From Bhopal to Superfund: The News Media and theEnvironment,” Sanjoy Hazarika. September, 1994.Discussion Paper D-17. $2.00

“TV Violence, Children and the Press: Eight RationalesInhibiting Public Policy Debates,” Sissela Bok. April,1994. Discussion Paper D-16. $3.00

“When Policy Fails: How the Buck Was Passed WhenKuwait Was Invaded,” Bernard Roshco. December, 1992.Discussion Paper D-15. $3.25

“The American Pattern of Freedom of the Press: AModel to Follow?,” Santiago Sanchez Gonzalez. August,1992. Discussion Paper D-14. $2.25

“The Nixon Memo,” Marvin Kalb. July, 1992.Discussion Paper D-13. $2.00

“Notes for the Next Epidemic, Part One: Lessons fromNews Coverage of AIDS,” Timothy Cook. October,1991. Discussion Paper D-12. $2.25

“The Media in Europe After 1992: A Case Study of LaRepublica,” Sylvia Poggioli. September, 1991.Discussion Paper D-11. $3.25

“The Russian and Soviet Press: A Long Journey fromSuppression to Freedom via Suppression and Glasnost,”Alexander Merkushev. August, 1991. Discussion PaperD-10. $2.00

“Different Strokes: Public Broadcasting in America andAustralia,” Glyn Davis. July, 1991. Discussion PaperD-9. $2.25

“Changing Lanes on the Inside Track: The CareerShuttle Between Journalism, Politics and Government,”James McEnteer. May, 1991. Discussion Paper D-8.$1.75

“Expanding the Public’s Right to Know: Access toSettlement Records under the First Amendment,” JohnJ. Watkins. December, 1990. Discussion Paper D-7.$1.75

“Lies in Ink, Truth in Blood,” Linda Jakobson. August,1990. Discussion Paper D-6. $2.00

“Window to the West: How Television from the FederalRepublic Influenced Events in East Germany,” DieterBuhl. July, 1990. Discussion Paper D-5. $1.50

“School for Scandal,” Sissela Bok. April, 1990.Discussion Paper D-4. $1.00

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“Press, Polls and the 1988 Campaign: An Insider’sCritique,” Dayton Duncan. August, 1989. DiscussionPaper D-1. $2.50

RESEARCH PAPERS“The Perpetuation of Prejudice in Reporting on Gaysand Lesbians—Time and Newsweek: The First FiftyYears,” Lisa Bennett. September, 1998. DiscussionPaper R-21. $2.00

“Talking Politics on the Net,” Sara Bentivegna.August, 1998. Research Paper R-20. $2.00

“Communication Patterns in Presidential Primaries1912–2000: Knowing the Rules of the Game,”Kathleen E. Kendall. June, 1998. Research Paper R-19.$2.00

“Clarifying the CNN Effect: An Examination ofMedia Effects According to Type of MilitaryIntervention,” Steven Livingston. June, 1997.Research Paper R-18. $3.00

“The Wisdom of the War Room: U.S. Campaigningand Americanization,” Margaret Scammell. April,1997. Research Paper R-17. $3.50

“Framing Identity: The Press in Crown Heights,”Carol B. Conaway. November, 1996. Research PaperR-16. $3.00

“Busted By the Ad Police: Journalists’ Coverage ofPolitical Campaign Ads in the 1992 PresidentialCampaign,” Michael Milburn and Justin Brown. July,1995. Research Paper R-15. $3.00

“The Media, the Public and the Development ofCandidates’ Images in the 1992 Presidential Election,”Dean Alger. October, 1994. Research Paper R-14. $2.50

“The Future of Global Television News,” RichardParker. September, 1994. Research Paper R-13. $2.75

“Ownership of Newspapers: The View from PositivistSocial Science,” C. Edwin Baker. September, 1994.Research Paper R-12. $2.75

“Transmitting Race: The Los Angeles Riot in TelevisionNews,” Erna Smith. May, 1994. Research Paper R-11.$2.75

“How Voters Construct Images of Political Candidates:The Role of Political Advertising and Televised News,”Montague Kern and Marion Just. April, 1994. ResearchPaper R-10. $2.50

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“The Role of the News Media in Unequal PoliticalConflicts: From the Intifada to the Gulf War and BackAgain,” Gadi Wolfsfeld. June, 1993. Research Paper R-8.$2.25

“Two Commanders-in-Chief: Free Expression’s MostSevere Test,” Betty Houchin Winfield. August, 1992.Research Paper R-7. $3.25

“An Economic Theory of Learning from News,” MarionJust, W. Russell Neuman, Ann Crigler. July, 1992.Research Paper R-6. $2.25

“The Church, the Press, and Abortion: CatholicLeadership and Public Communication,” Michael A.Russo. December, 1991. Research Paper R-5. $5.50

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“Sound Bite Democracy: Network Evening NewsPresidential Campaign Coverage, 1968 and 1988,” KikuAdatto. June, 1990. Research Paper R-2. $2.00

“Tritium and the Times: How the Nuclear Weapons-Production Scandal Became a National Story,” WilliamLanouette. May, 1990. Research Paper R-1. $2.75

WORKING PAPERS“Discourse and Its Discontents,” Frederick Schauer.September, 1994. Working Paper 94-2. $10.00

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