War in the Information Age

Back in the days before the Internet, I probably never could have read this: "American propaganda machinery began a new harangue of demonization of Serbs and Yugoslavia, spreading new lies which persistently attempts to support with alleged statements of refugees, Kosovo Albanians arriving in Albania, the majority of whom have family members in the terrorist organization."

Tanjug news agency, the mouthpiece of the Serbian government, was attacking the American media for spreading what it says are fabricated stories of intimidation, mass execution and rape in the rebellious province of Kosovo. In poorly-translated English, the Serbs were trying to put their own spin on the war news, detailing the destruction caused by NATO bombing:

"In bestial attack on civilian targets last night, NATO barbarians destroyed two bridges in Krusevac community," Tanjug reported May 2 after alliance bombers destroyed a bridge near Pristina, the capital of Kosovo. The report goes on to describe, in bombing, which Tanjug claims killed "at least 60 people." The story was accompanied by a photo of the remains of a bus that was destroyed during the attack, over the caption "NATO genocide in Yugoslavia."

Meanwhile, Americans heard a different story. The Associated Press put the number of casualties at 23. In cold and dispassionate language, the AP reported that independent journalists had counted about 15 bodies in the rubble, and that "most have been burned beyond recognition and were horribly mangled from the blast."

So which do you believe? Most of us would pick the American media. Yugoslavia was ranked among the most repressive countries in the world for journalists by the Committee to Protect Journalists. Yugoslav president Slobodan Milosevic, along with Fidel Castro of Cuba and Jiang Zemin of China, tops a list of enemies of the free press released by the committee Monday. Milosevic has been notoriously intolerant of independent journalists, both foreign and Yugoslavian. As for Tanjug, it operates out of something called the Ministry of Information, whose sinister, Orwellian name doesn't inspire much confidence in its objectivity.

But the Ministry of Information insists that in relating the accounts of Kosovar refugees in Albania, it's the American media that distorts the facts:

"Obviously, Western `Goebbels' machinery tries in short runs and with shock therapy to achieve a moment effect on TV in order to provide some more points for the political top in Washington and urgently achieve some short-run criminal aim for which they need some cover in order to prevent the publicity to understand what they actually do."

This is hardly the only diatribe against the Western press you'll find on the Tanjug wire. A good percentage of the news agency's articles attack stories in the British and American media, particularly those on CNN, which Tanjug says is assuming "a leading role in the new propaganda undertaking."

Milosevic is not stupid, and his minions at the Ministry of Information are directing their wrath at the Western media for a good reason. The nations at war today have less control over the information their citizens are receiving than ever before. Milosevic has tried to cut off independent and opposition media the traditional way--by revoking their licenses and using intimidation and assault--but there is nothing he can do to control Internet media sources save trying to discredit them. Radio B92, the independent radio station that has made so much trouble for the government since the anti-Milosevic protests in 1996 and 1997, may have been shut down, but its Web site, hosted in the Netherlands, is still available to any Yugoslavian with an Internet connection.

Internet access may not be as widespread in Yugoslavia as it is here, but it is the most formidable obstacle any propagandist has ever faced. Tanjug's news stories, thinly veiled propaganda bulletins, now have to compete with the real thing from independent news sources--or at the very least with the NATO version of events.

During the Cold War, Radio Free Europe tried to fill the same role as the Internet is playing now, and NATO has set up a similar radio station to broadcast to Yugoslavia. But winning the war--and this is a war, despite the semantic contortions of NATO and the Clinton administration--will take more than that. Suppression of the independent media is a crucial element of Milosevic's grip on power, and as long as Serb citizens are unaware of what their army is doing in Kosovo, there is little chance they will stop supporting Milosevic.

But the Internet poses a real threat to Milosevic. It would be naive to think that if the free press returned to Yugoslavia, the Serbian people would suddenly turn against their president and his genocidal campaign in Kosovo; the situation is far more complicated than that. But especially in a war that NATO has made clear it wants to end not with a military victory but with a negotiated settlement, free access to independent media might be part of the solution.

Alan E. Wirzbicki '01, a history and literature concentrator in Eliot House, is associate editorial chair of The Crimson.

Meanwhile, Americans heard a different story. The Associated Press put the number of casualties at 23. In cold and dispassionate language, the AP reported that independent journalists had counted about 15 bodies in the rubble, and that "most have been burned beyond recognition and were horribly mangled from the blast."

So which do you believe? Most of us would pick the American media. Yugoslavia was ranked among the most repressive countries in the world for journalists by the Committee to Protect Journalists. Yugoslav president Slobodan Milosevic, along with Fidel Castro of Cuba and Jiang Zemin of China, tops a list of enemies of the free press released by the committee Monday. Milosevic has been notoriously intolerant of independent journalists, both foreign and Yugoslavian. As for Tanjug, it operates out of something called the Ministry of Information, whose sinister, Orwellian name doesn't inspire much confidence in its objectivity.

But the Ministry of Information insists that in relating the accounts of Kosovar refugees in Albania, it's the American media that distorts the facts:

"Obviously, Western `Goebbels' machinery tries in short runs and with shock therapy to achieve a moment effect on TV in order to provide some more points for the political top in Washington and urgently achieve some short-run criminal aim for which they need some cover in order to prevent the publicity to understand what they actually do."

This is hardly the only diatribe against the Western press you'll find on the Tanjug wire. A good percentage of the news agency's articles attack stories in the British and American media, particularly those on CNN, which Tanjug says is assuming "a leading role in the new propaganda undertaking."

Milosevic is not stupid, and his minions at the Ministry of Information are directing their wrath at the Western media for a good reason. The nations at war today have less control over the information their citizens are receiving than ever before. Milosevic has tried to cut off independent and opposition media the traditional way--by revoking their licenses and using intimidation and assault--but there is nothing he can do to control Internet media sources save trying to discredit them. Radio B92, the independent radio station that has made so much trouble for the government since the anti-Milosevic protests in 1996 and 1997, may have been shut down, but its Web site, hosted in the Netherlands, is still available to any Yugoslavian with an Internet connection.

Internet access may not be as widespread in Yugoslavia as it is here, but it is the most formidable obstacle any propagandist has ever faced. Tanjug's news stories, thinly veiled propaganda bulletins, now have to compete with the real thing from independent news sources--or at the very least with the NATO version of events.

During the Cold War, Radio Free Europe tried to fill the same role as the Internet is playing now, and NATO has set up a similar radio station to broadcast to Yugoslavia. But winning the war--and this is a war, despite the semantic contortions of NATO and the Clinton administration--will take more than that. Suppression of the independent media is a crucial element of Milosevic's grip on power, and as long as Serb citizens are unaware of what their army is doing in Kosovo, there is little chance they will stop supporting Milosevic.

But the Internet poses a real threat to Milosevic. It would be naive to think that if the free press returned to Yugoslavia, the Serbian people would suddenly turn against their president and his genocidal campaign in Kosovo; the situation is far more complicated than that. But especially in a war that NATO has made clear it wants to end not with a military victory but with a negotiated settlement, free access to independent media might be part of the solution.

Alan E. Wirzbicki '01, a history and literature concentrator in Eliot House, is associate editorial chair of The Crimson.