Perfecting the Creation of Appetite:
The Media Corrupts Political Corruption
Timothy A. Borchers
Moorhead State University
Paper presented to the 1996
Speech Communication Association
Annual Convention
San Diego, California
November 23, 1996
Perfecting the Creation of Appetite:
The Media Corrupts Political Corruption
"Where is the outrage in America? Where is the outrage in America? Where has the media gone in America? We have the president of the United States sitting down there with 900 FBI files, one might be one of yours ... And then we have the president of the United States who won't say he won't pardon somebody who did business with him and might implicate him later on. Where is the outrage in America?"
Although the timing of Bob Dole’s attack on the American public may be questionable, his frustration–expressed frequently in the closing days of the recent campaign–highlights a fundamental paradox in the beliefs of the American public. While more than half of the public–58 percent in a recent Newsweek poll and 60 percent, according to USA Today–think President Clinton is hiding something concerning the Whitewater real estate deal, Americans by the same majority seem ready to re-elect him.
The Clinton administration has faced numerous questions of political misconduct in the past four years: Whitewatergate–did Bill or Hillary Clinton use their political influence in exchange for financial favors twenty years ago in Arkansas; Travelgate–did Bill and Hillary Clinton fire the White House Travel Office staff to replace them with political cronies; Filegate–did the White House knowingly request more than 900 top secret FBI files; and even Mulligangate–did the President really shoot a 79 in golf? For the American public, these questions have been largely irrelevant.
Political pundits and scholars have offered several explanations for the public’s ambivalence towards allegations of corruption. A popular response is that the economy was the most important issue in the 1996 campaign and voters were simply voting their pocketbooks. Barry S. Rundquist, Gerald S. Strom, and John G. Peters, in a 1976 study, posited a similar explanation: "It follows that there are conditions under which a rational voter would knowingly support corrupt candidates. He [or she] would do so if he [or she] perceives both candidates as corrupt, or if he [or she] decides that a corrupt candidate who is closer to his [or her] own preferences on other issues is preferable to a ‘clean’ candidate who is not" (965). Political economists, see, for example, Rose-Ackerman, contend that corruption is often seen as a "way to get things done" in Washington–a city marked by political gridlock and checks on powers.
In this paper, I contend that the public has been largely unaffected by charges of political corruption because the rhetorical form of news media coverage has failed to arouse public anger. The public now finds it difficult to distinguish between truly important scandals and those that are inconsequential and the media have focused entirely on "what the President knew and when he knew it" at the expense of more important issues related to allegations of political corruption. Ultimately, the media have lost credibility with the public which has come to "expect" charges of corruption by its leaders and is prepared for those charges to be remain unresolved. In essence, the media have corrupted corruption.
In this paper, I discuss the relationship between Kenneth Burke’s rhetorical theory and literary form. Realizing the important link between the two, I discuss the literary form of detective fiction and explain how the media took full advantage of this form in Watergate. I then explore how this form has been corrupted in subsequent media coverage of political corruption, specifically concerning Iran-contra and Whitewater. Finally, I offer some implications of this reporting style and the consequences it has for the political system.
Burke and Form
Kenneth Burke came to rhetoric through literary criticism. His early writing in Counter-Statement laid the foundation for his later contributions to rhetorical theory. Among the most fundamental concepts Burke explored in Counter-Statement was form. Following a recap of the fourth scene in the first act of Hamlet, Burke notes, "The psychology here is not the psychology of the hero, but the psychology of the audience. And by that distinction, form would be the psychology of the audience. Or, seen from another angle, form is the creation of an appetite in the mind of the auditor, and the adequate satisfying of that appetite" (31). Form, writes Burke, involves "desires and their appeasements" (31). "A work has form," wrote Burke, "in so far as one part of it leads a reader to anticipate another part, to be gratified by the experience" (124). Literature has as its goal the fulfillment of desires, of emotions. The "beautiful" work of art is one which creates some kind of emotional involvement in its audience.
Burke, although writing as a literary critic, viewed literature through its audience, not through the work of literature itself. For this reason, Burke’s work in Counter-Statement was viewed as "counter" to the prevailing notion of his day. As a result, Burke was able to set up the basis for his later writings. Many of his later ideas can be traced to the idea of form developed in Counter-Statement. Burke writes in The Philosophy of Literary Form, "But to guide our observations about the form itself, we seek to discover the functions which the structure serves. This takes us into a discussion of purpose, strategy, the symbolic act" (101). Identification, central to Burke’s rhetoric, has as its basis the artistic connection between rhetor and audience. Tragedy and comedy both concern the rhetor’s ability to fulfill form. The cycle of guilt-purification-redemption further reflects the psychology of the audience. In essence, the whole of symbolic action can be traced to Burke’s notion of form as discussed in Counter-Statement.
Mediated Rhetoric and Literary Form
While literature provides a rich basis for Burke’s rhetoric, his reliance on verbal texts makes him vulnerable to criticism that his work is no longer applicable in today’s mediated world. Ironically, scholars who defend using Burke’s theory for media studies turn to his early work in Counter-Statement to support their position. Robert S. Cathcart, writing in "Instruments of His Own Making: Burke and Media," argues that although the Burkean system may need some modifications in order to remain a viable method for contemporary media critics, Burke’s concept of form is still applicable. Cathcart writes:
The concept of "form" has always been one of the most important aspects of Burkean dramatism. Burke has convincingly demonstrated that it is form rather than verbal content that produces action rather than motion. The most important aspect of dramatism, and what makes it most applicable to contemporary mass media, is its focus on form rather than content alone to reveal the processes of symbolic action. When we look to form to reveal symbolic action, we have the key to understanding the languages of the new media. (303).
Cathcart reinforces the point that "form is not restricted to literary/verbal uses but functions rhetorically in all artistic creations" (303). Studying the form of a medium, in addition to its verbal code, allows the critic to understand the eloquence of a medium’s message. Cathcart challenges modern rhetorical critics to "grasp the significance of form as the source of meaning in our modern mass media" (304). Burke’s and Cathcart’s words are instructive as we explore how mediated messages have created a culture of political apathy and indifference. As we will see, the form of media coverage of political corruption creates meanings that exist beyond those of the verbal text.
The Form Inherent in Mediated Rhetoric
Burke’s concept of form and the link between literary theory and criticism are especially applicable for analysis of the news media because news coverage often reflects attributes of literary style. NBC’s Reuven Frank, as related by Thomas Patterson, told his reporters in 1963, "Every news story should, without any sacrifice of probity or responsibility, display the attributes of fiction of drama. It should have structure and conflict, problem and denouement, rising action and falling action, a beginning, a middle and an end" (Out of Order 80). Patterson explained, "This emphasis on narrative stems from commercial television’s need for tightly structured stories. In a medium that depends on the spoken word and large audiences, stories that are to be readily understood must be given a narrative form" (Out of Order 80). He argued that the use of narratives extends to print media, as well: "The television model gradually affected the print media, to the point where the difference in the styles of television and newspaper reporting is now relatively small" (Out of Order 81). Weekly news magazines, with their use of banner headlines and colorful photographs, are especially prone to using a narrative form of reporting
The Form of Detective Fiction
In the next few pages, I will lay out a specific type of narrative form–detective fiction–that is useful for understanding the media’s coverage of political corruption. Auden has laid out the form of contemporary detective fiction: "The basic formula is this: a murder occurs; many are suspected; all but one suspect, who is the murderer, are eliminated; the murderer is arrested or dies" (15). Two additional components of detective fiction are "Concealment (the innocent seem guilty and the guilty seem innocent) and Manifestation (the real guilt is brought to consciousness)" (Auden 16). Cawelti adds, "Good detective story writers are able to maintain a complex intellectual suspense centering on the possibility that a dangerous criminal might remain at large or that innocent people might be convicted of the crime. They sustain uncertainty until the final revelation, yet at the same time assure us that the detective has the qualities which will eventually enable him to reach the solution" (127).
Burke recognized the potency of the "detective fiction" form in Counter-Statement. Continuing his discussion of form, Burke wrote, syllogistic form "is the form of a perfectly conducted argument, advancing step by step. It is the form of a mystery story, where everything falls together, as in a story of ratiocination by Poe. . . To go from A to E through stages B, C, D is to obtain such form" (CS 124). The detective fiction form of literature has been a popular literary form for centuries and contemporary American culture is no exception. One needs to only look at the current "Bestseller" list to see the popularity of detective/mystery fiction.
Based on the observations of Auden and Cawelti, eight qualities are necessary for a good detective story. First, some crime is committed; second, there are many suspects; third, the suspects are gradually eliminated; fourth, the prime suspect conceals key evidence; fifth, it appears the prime suspect will go free; sixth, the reader has the confidence the protagonists will solve the crime; seventh, the key evidence is revealed; and eighth, the prime suspect is caught and the worries of the reader are relieved. The literary form of "detective fiction" can be used to explain the media coverage of Watergate. By effectively using this literary form, the media was able to drive Nixon from office and gain the faith of the American public.
Media Coverage and Form in Watergate:
Setting the Standard for Political Scandal
Following the arrest of five men in the early morning hours of June 18, 1972, the citizens of the United States became engrossed in a detective story like none other. For more than two years, numerous protagonists–reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, Senator Sam Ervin, Representative Peter Rodino, Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox, and Special Prosecutor Leon Jaworski–pursued the ultimate criminal, President Richard Nixon. After months of uncertainty, in which every other possible suspect was eliminated, tell-tale evidence of Nixon’s involvement in the Watergate Hotel break-in and subsequent cover-up would force the leader to resign in disgrace. Like many detective stories, resolution was achieved after the forces of good conquered the forces of evil. The public, politicians, and the media celebrated the free press and its ability to expose political corruption. A quick review of the media’s coverage of Watergate confirms the utility of the detective fiction metaphor.
First, a crime was committed. Actually, two crimes were committed. The first was the break-in by the five Watergate burglars on June 18, 1972. The second occurred shortly thereafter when Nixon allegedly told one of his top aides, Bob Haldeman, to cover-up investigation of the break-in. The first crime may not have seemed incredibly significant, but it captured the imaginations and of the national media and resulted in 26 months of investigation.
Initially, there were many suspects. The five Watergate burglars gained most of the early attention, although many in the news media and elsewhere believed they were but pawns for higher powers. Soon it was alleged that Howard Hunt and G. Gordon Liddy were at the Watergate monitoring listening devices. Both men had secret ties to the Nixon White House and were involved in Republican Party and White House security. By the middle of October 1972, allegations were made that the break-in was only part of an elaborate "dirty tricks" campaign by the GOP. Among the new suspects was a young lawyer named Donald H. Segretti. Segretti, it was later revealed, was linked to Dwight Chapin, appointments secretary to President Nixon and Chapin was closely linked to Haldeman, Nixon’s Chief of Staff.
Soon the "Watergate detectives" would uncover the fact that the five Watergate burglars were part of the "plumbers," a small group of operatives charged with monitoring leaks in the White House and subsequently conducting anti-opposition research. The plumbers were run by Egil (Bud) Krogh, deputy to Nixon aide John D. Ehrlichman. The plumbers also became enmeshed with the Committee for the Re-Election of the President (CREEP). Despite the rather close links to the White House, Newsweek reported that it was unclear "to what extent GOP higher-ups knew of the team–and approved of its activities" ("The Spies" 41).
In October 1972, The Washington Post found that former Attorney General John Mitchell was in control of a $350,00 to $700,000 GOP fund ear-marked for political intelligence gathering against the Democrats. In mid April 1973, deputy campaign manager Jeb Magruder told Federal prosecutors that Mitchell and White House Counsel John Dean had approved the bugging in advance and were at least aware of attempts to pay off the burglars following their arrest. All told, thirty seven people would be indicted for crimes related to Watergate.
The long list of suspects slowly began to narrow. In January 1973, the trial of the seven men accused in the Watergate break-in opened in the Washington courtroom of U.S. District Judge John J. Sirica. Five of the seven pleaded guilty and the remaining two were convicted. Skeptical that the Watergate break-in was the work of these seven men, the news media, criminal investigators, and members of Congress continued to pursue President Nixon. In May 1973, the Ervin select committee began holding nationally televised hearings on Watergate. Dean provided the most dramatic testimony, including a 30 hour account of how Nixon and his aides were involved in Watergate. Of particular interest were allegations by Dean that President Nixon had said that coming up with $1 million to pay off the Watergate burglars would be "no problem." Nixon, said Dean, was aware of the cover-up as early as September 15, 1972 and had thanked Dean for covering up the affair to that date.
The list of suspects was quickly narrowed to one–President Nixon–when former White House staffer Alexander Butterfield told the Ervin committee in July 1973 that Nixon had installed listening devices in the Oval Office and Executive Office Building. Nixon steadfastly refused to hand over the tapes of key conversations he had about Watergate. In so doing, he fulfilled the fourth requirement of the detective fiction form: the prime suspect conceals key evidence. Not only did Nixon conceal key evidence, he may have destroyed several critical tapes. Tapes he did reveal contained mysterious blank spots, static, and "buzzing noises."
On October 20, 1973–the "Saturday Night Massacre"–Nixon ordered Attorney General Richardson to fire Cox. Richardson instead resigned, as did Deputy Attorney General William Ruckelshaus. In the end, Solicitor General Robert Bork, as Acting Attorney General, fired Cox. Nixon ordered the special prosecutor’s office padlocked, essentially closing the investigation and giving the appearance that the prime suspect would go free, the fifth quality of good detective fiction.
However, the news media–in particular Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein–and Congressional investigators pursued the President. From February to July 1974 the House Judiciary Committee, led by Representative Peter Rodino, enjoyed wide public and bi-partisan support as it pursued the case of impeachment. Nixon slowly made more tapes and documents available to the public and the news media began to notice a slide in the president’s credibility and public support. In other words, the readers were given the confidence that the protagonists would solve the crime.
The Watergate scandal came to a dramatic conclusion in August 1974 when Nixon’s advisors, James St. Clair and Alexander Haig, discovered the "smoking gun"–evidence "implicating him [Nixon] directly and convincingly in the Watergate cover-up in its very earliest days" ("Seven Days" 15). The evidence consisted of three taped conversations Nixon had with Haldeman on June 23, 1972. In the first conversation, Nixon said the FBI was tracing laundered cash that financed the burglary to Mitchell. Nixon and Haldeman then "evolved a strategy for using the CIA to abort the FBI inquiry, on the trumped-up plea that it might compromise some covert agency operation" ("Seven Days" 15). The tape was the "murder weapon" Nixon’s accusers had long sought.
Nixon’s own aides quickly convinced him that he should step down instead of subjecting the nation to the pain of an impeachment hearing. The public’s mood was one of joy and relief–the prime suspect had been caught. Newsweek noted, "The impulse of the nation, with Nixon’s disgrace, was to rally behind the new President, and to share his faith that the system had brought an end to a national nightmare. The response of friend and foe alike to Nixon’s resignation was overwhelmingly one of relief" ("Seven Days" 14).
The story told by the media closely resembled the literary form of detective fiction. A crime took place (some might have said a "murder of the Constitution"), a host of suspects were eliminated, leaving only one–who at first concealed critical evidence, but later revealed the evidence used to determine his fate. Throughout the thrilling story, the public placed their confidence in the media and other investigators and when the story ended, the American people rejoiced in the peaceful means through which power was transferred.
The Corruption of the Watergate
Form: Reagan and Iran-Contra
Although the media was effective in relating instances of Nixon’s corruption to the American public, literary theorists suggest some limitations for the continued use of a literary form. First, notes Cawelti, the audience will be more critical consumers of future stories that fit a certain formula. He writes, "Audiences find satisfaction and a basic emotional security in a familiar form; in addition, the audience’s past experiences with a formula gives it a sense of what to expect in new individual examples, thereby increasing its capacity for understanding and enjoying the details of a work" (124-125).
Second, novelists who continue to use the same formula are apt to make fewer artistic decisions and are able to produce works of fiction rapidly. Cawelti contends, "For creators, the formula provides a means for the rapid and efficient production of new works. Once familiar with the outlines of the formula, the writer who devotes himself to this sort of creation does not have to make as many difficult artistic decisions as a novelist working without a formula. Thus, formulaic creators tend to be extremely prolific" (124-125). Given the constraints that exist on the media, quick, cheap production of news stories is an especially appealing temptation. Both limitations are instructive as we review the media’s coverage of Iran-contra.
Ronald Reagan, for the first six years of his presidency, was one of the most popular presidents of all time. However, in November 1986, a Beirut magazine, Al Shiraa, reported that "five American government officials, including former National Security Council chief Robert C. McFarlane, had flown secretly to Teheran" arranging a deal to sell military hardware to Iran in exchange for Iranian cooperation in releasing U.S. hostages held in Lebanon (Deming 46). Later, it would be revealed that profit from the arms sales was illegally diverted to the contra rebels, who were fighting the communist Sandinistas in Nicaragua. The media–following the lead of a Lebanese newspaper–began pursuing this "crime" that had taken place.
A notable departure from the form used in Watergate was apparent from the beginning of the scandal. From the onset the investigation, there was one prime suspect–President Reagan–and several minor suspects. A banner headline in the November 17, 1986 edition of Newsweek read, "Despite a vow not to deal with terrorists, Reagan secretly permits arms shipments to Iran to win the release of three American hostages in Lebanon" (Deming 46). That Reagan knew of the secret negotiations was, in fact, questionable, Newsweek later reported. Whereas Nixon’s involvement in Watergate took 26 months to document, Reagan’s involvement was suggested from the start. In other words, the media tried to convict Reagan without having first established his connection to the crime. Government scholar Larry J. Sabato offers a rationale for the media’s coverage, "Ever since Watergate, most investigative journalists’ goal has been not just sensational revelation but the downfall of their target, a trophy head for their wall that is the (im)moral equivalent of Richard Nixon" (63).
Another departure from Watergate concerns the nature of the crime committed. Nixon’s crime was one of obstructing justice; Reagan’s crime was somewhat more difficult to establish. When the news of the arms sales first broke, Reagan defended the policy and announced his support of it. In a speech delivered to a national television audience on November 13, 1986. Reagan called the "arms for hostages deal" a "secret diplomatic initiative." Reagan explained:
For 18 months now we have had underway a secret diplomatic initiative to Iran. That initiative was undertaken for the simplest and best of reasons: to renew a relationship with the nation of Iran, to bring an honorable end to the bloody 6-year war between Iran and Iraq, to eliminate state-sponsored terrorism and subversion, and to effect the safe return of all hostages. ("Iran-United States Relations" 13 Nov. 1986 1559).
Reagan further attempted to label the "policy violation" as an important foreign policy initiative while admitting complicity in the secret negotiations. He argued:
The charge has been made that the United States has shipped weapons to Iran as ransom payment for the release of American hostages in Lebanon, that the United States undercut its allies and secretly violated American policy against trafficking with terrorists. Those charges are utterly false. The United States has not made concessions to those who hold our people captive in Lebanon. ("Iran-United States Relations" 13 Nov. 1986 1559)
The media were then forced to define the Reagan Administration’s actions as criminal, even though Reagan was not willing to make this admission.
Shortly after the initial disclosure of the arms shipments, news broke that the profits from the sales were diverted to the communist-fighting Contra rebels of Nicaragua. This revelation more clearly defined the "crime" and caused the media to expand its list of criminals. Oliver North, James MacFarlane, and John Poindexter were now considered possible suspects, although Reagan loomed as the prime suspect and prime target of media investigators. Reagan, in his defense, initially denied knowledge of the profit diversion scheme, scapegoating his National Security Council aides North and Poindexter.
North gained more attention as a suspect in the arms-for-hostages/profit diversion scandal. Newsweek, in its December 8, 1986 edition, ran a two-page article detailing North’s background and his role in Iran-contra. The article, however, also named North as the "‘the only person . . . in the United States government [who] knew precisely’ about the tens of millions of dollars allegedly diverted from the secret Iranian arms deal to support the Nicaraguan contras" (Morganthau, "Trusting" 46). Newsweek also proclaimed North the "key witness and designated fall guy" who, after being questioned by the Justice Department, "returned to his White House office, where he allegedly destroyed documents said to be vital to the success of the administration’s investigation of itself" (Morganthau, "Trusting" 46). Thus, one of the suspects concealed key evidence. Throughout media coverage, however, there was widespread sentiment that North, Poindexter and the others were being offered as sacrifices. The implicit statement in this tone of coverage was that the "true" criminal–Reagan–would go free, the fifth component of the detective fiction form.
There were several formal investigative bodies examining the Iran-contra evidence. One, the Tower Commission, was largely seen as being "Reagan-friendly." In late February 1987, when the Tower commission released its report on Iran-contra, there was widespread skepticism that the report uncovered the full extent of the scandal. The commission, appointed by Reagan, had found that although Reagan’s administration acted unprofessionally and perhaps illegally, the president himself "genuinely wanted the truth to be told about the Iran-contra affair and that he hadn’t intentionally misled the nation" (Martz, "Reagan’s Failure" 16). The president, claimed the report, was "‘poorly advised and poorly served’" (Martz, "Reagan’s Failure" 16). In addition, the Tower Commission was especially harsh on North and invested "official" blame in the former Marine. Thus, Reagan escaped direct involvement.
With much fanfare and a national television audience, the Iran-contra joint congressional committee began holding hearings in May 1987. From these hearings, which lasted all summer, there emerged a drama that also supported Reagan. The testimony of the witnesses, together with laudatory media coverage of North, accommodated the drama that Reagan and his officials had acted patriotically in arming the communist-fighting contra rebels. As the joint committee hearings continued, attention was focused on Reagan’s top officials. Their testimony cast doubt on the claim that the covert operation was "a rogue operation run by a lone zealot, Oliver North" (Jacoby, "Abrams" 18). But no one could prove that Reagan broke the law.
In July 1987, North–the prime suspect–took the stand and took Washington and the country by storm. North testified that "he had been designated to ‘take the spears in his own chest’ if the secret contra-aid program, and the diversion of profits from the Iran arms sales, ever became a political scandal" (Martz, "Ollie Takes" 14). North "stopped short of implicating Ronald Reagan himself in the fund diversion" and instead implicated Casey, who by this time had died from a brain tumor. The hoopla surrounding Ollie all but obscured, reported Newsweek, "the serious constitutional issues raised by the hearings. The unchallenged facts were that Reagan and his top aides had set up the secret arms-for-hostages deals, circumvented the will of Congress and conspired to cover up their acts" (Martz, "Ollie Takes" 15). Poindexter proved to be the final scapegoat in his testimony before the Congressional joint committee. He told the committee that "The buck stops here" and claimed that "he was the man who authorized the secret diversion of profits from arms sales to Iran to fund the Nicaraguan contras, and he hadn’t told Ronald Reagan he was doing it" (Martz, "Taking Blame" 14). Although he was not believed by everyone, Poindexter’s testimony made impeachment ("never more than a distant possibility") "now out of the question" (Martz, "Taking Blame" 14).
Morganthau observed there was no smoking gun in Iran-contra; only "just smoke" (Morganthau, "Still No" 12). "Baffled and divided, congressional investigators seemed to lose their way in the welter of contradictory testimony and lapses of memory by key witnesses," Newsweek reported (Morganthau, "Still No" 12). In the end, Morganthau surmised, "the public record of the Iran-contra affair is, if anything, even more tangled than before. Reagan’s own role, like his intentions, remains a mystery" ("Still No" 13). Iran-contra came to a close in Congress with far more questions raised than it answered.
In short, the detective fiction form failed to apply to Iran-contra. First, the crime that was committed was seen as a matter of judgment. Although Reagan officials clearly broke the law, they did so for patriotic, pro-democratic reasons–reasons that were partially accepted by the American public. Second, the media began by pursuing its prized target–President Reagan–but ended by implicating North. Further, the key evidence that made its dramatic appearance in Watergate, was destroyed in a paper shredder in Iran-contra. Finally, the prime suspect–North–would go free when his case was dismissed. Reagan–the initial prime suspect and prime target of the media–would serve the remainder of his term in office and continue to be regarded as an American hero. Ultimately, the appetite created and satisfied by the media in Watergate went unfulfilled in Iran-contra. The media, by attempting use the same formula used in Watergate, failed to properly focus the attention on the true nature of the Iran-contra scandal–illegal and improper foreign policy-making decision. The nature of Iran-contra was different that that of Watergate and the media should have been more flexible in their coverage of the scandal. Newsweek editor Larry Martz agreed:
The sad end of Watergate came in the Iran-contra scandal. As a constitutional crime, in my view at least, Iran-contra was far more serious than the election pranks and political cover-ups of Watergate. The Reagan White House was clearly scheming to break laws and thwart the will of Congress, and it was conniving at the creation of a SMERSH-like private CIA that would be capable of untold mischief. But though we told the story, we never got it focused; to most people, Iran-contra wasn’t a serious problem. ("For the Media" 32)
The public, perhaps, lost faith that its political leaders and press could find out the truth about Iran-contra.
The Crisis of Confidence:
Clinton and Whitewater
Unfortunately, the media did not learn from its mistakes in Iran-contra and has tried to use the detective fiction form to relate Whitewater to the American public. So far, the media has not met with much success. Although coverage of Clinton’s Whitewater controversy fits some of the qualities of the detective fiction form, there are several areas in which the controversy eludes formulaic media coverage. Fundamentally, the public no longer has the confidence that media/protagonists can bring the suspect to justice. The same protagonists pursuing President Clinton were the same "detectives" who failed to bring Iran-contra to a conclusive finish. In addition, Special Prosecutor Kenneth Starr and Congressional committees investigating Whitewater face charges of conducting a partisan witch hunt. Thus, the public has prepared itself not to be emotionally affected by Whitewater and, in Bob Dole’s words, "there is no outrage."
Although the most fundamental weakness of the detective fiction form for Whitewater is the audience’s skepticism that the protagonists will solve the crime, there are several additional departures from the detective fiction form used by the media in Watergate. First, the media has attempted–for nearly four years now–to precisely define the crime of Whitewater. Godfrey Sperling, a staff writer for the Christian Science Monitor, has himself struggled with this question. He writes:
Whitewater has been dubbed a "mystery story" by the first lady’s lawyer - and, indeed, it is. Its intricacies elude just about everyone. And perhaps the biggest mystery is the one faced by journalists like me who must figure out how to capsulize Whitewater's complexities in order to give readers a quick insight into what is going on. The best effort to put in a nutshell the allegations surrounding Whitewater is Russell Baker's description of the scandal: "A bunch of people in Arkansas are charged with operating a small savings and loan as if it were their own property. The further suggestion is that President and Mrs. Clinton were in cahoots with this crowd when they invested in a real estate development named 'Whitewater.'" The most serious question about the president's conduct is whether he used his influence as governor to bring about an illegal loan. He denies this.
The chief complaint against Hillary Rodham Clinton, it seems, is that she has dragged her feet in producing information needed to determine whether punishable actions have been taken in Whitewater-related transactions and in events during the White House travel-office controversy. Also, has Mrs. Clinton breached conflict-of-interest rules? (1)
The key words, I think, from this quotation are "capsulize," "quick insight," and "nutshell." Whitewater does not lend itself to a cursory discussion in the media. In order to fully probe the scandal, the media must do more in-depth reporting and the public must be more willing to think about Whitewater in more complex terms than what are usually offered in short reports.
The second weakness of the detective fiction format for Whitewater is the media’s focus on suspects. Like its coverage of Iran-contra, the media focused initially on President Clinton and Hillary Rodham Clinton. Whitewater came to the public’s attention during the Presidential campaign of 1992. Clinton, however, won election and the scandal faded from the public’s eye. On July 20, 1993, White House counsel Vince Foster took his life in a Washington park. The suicide again focused attention on Whitewater and documents that may have been taken from Foster’s office following his death. Some in the media even suggested that Foster’s suicide was the result of information he knew about Whitewater.
Later that year, Congressional investigators, Special Prosecutor Robert Fiske, and the media continued to pursue Whitewater. Although the Clintons were clearly in their targets, the protagonists looked at other figures as well–more suspects were added to the list. Since then, these suspects have been gradually eliminated as attention continues to focus on the Clintons. Former Clinton business partners Jim McDougal and Susan McDougal were found guilty of Whitewater-related financial wrongdoing in trials in Arkansas, as was former Arkansas Governor Jim Guy Tucker. Deputy Treasury Secretary Roger Altman and White House counsel Bernard Nussbaum have resigned their posts due to Whitewater speculation.
While the nature of the Whitewater financial deal is still a mystery, the focus of the investigation is now shifting to charges of obstruction of justice. Like in Watergate, the cover-up of the crime may prove to be a worse crime than the initial Whitewater crime. The prime suspect now is Hillary Clinton. She has been accused of taking important billing records from Foster’s office after his suicide and then for causing those documents–which had since been subpoenaed–to reappear in January 1996. A fingerprint analysis of the records indicates that of the few sets of fingerprints on the documents, one set belonged to the First Lady. She has also testified to a grand jury investigating the matter and–to the joyful speculation of Republican investigators–may yet face indictment over the billing records. Thus, while the crime has been difficult to discern, the prime suspect–the First Lady–appears to have concealed critical evidence. At this point, it appears as if there will continue to be investigations surrounding Whitewater. Starr was recently approved to continue his investigation and it appears that Senator Alfonse D’Amato will continue investigating under the auspices of Congress.
This discussion of Whitewater supports the contention that the media is struggling to place the scandal in the form of detective fiction. However, there exist several limitations. First, the crime of Whitewater is not easily explained in a "nutshell." Second, while targeting Bill and Hillary Clinton, the media has apparently missed important crimes committed by other suspects. However, the detective fiction form may work well for the media as it begins to focus more on Hillary Clinton and her role in concealing critical billing records. With her in their targets, the media and Congressional investigators may yet "catch" the criminal they have sought for so long. However, public apathy towards Whitewater mitigates against the future utility of the detective fiction form. The media, so far, has been unable to create an appetite for this scandal. I contend that this is largely due to its inability to bring Iran-contra to the same emotionally cathartic conclusion as Watergate. Media coverage of Whitewater in the coming months will play a crucial role in how the public responds to scandal in the future.
Conclusion
This paper has identified the relationship between rhetorical theory and literary form. Specifically, I have argued that the literary form of detective fiction is useful to examine media coverage of political corruption. Having discussed how the media was effective using the detective fiction form in Watergate, but that the media has subsequently tried and failed to use this form Iran-contra and Whitewater, it is important to now offer some conclusions.
First, despite its recent failures to explain political corruption, the media continues to try to use the detective fiction form in its coverage of political scandal. Newsweek columnist Meg Greenfield recently remarked:
It is important to note that between the original Watergate events and now, an unending series of scandals and squallys and truly mean fights over the conduct of people in government–Republicans and Democrats–has turned the procedure into a kind of one-size-fits-all ritual, so that the same things are said and done no matter what the magnitude and nature of the alleged offense. (66)
She continued, "We are all supposed to be looking for one [a "smoking gun"] (as if every genuine impropriety in government were, if not a homicide, at least an indictable felony enumerated somewhere in the criminal code)" (66). Greenfield’s comments support my observations that the media desire to "win the big prize" by providing incontrovertible proof that someone important has done something undeniably wrong. Further, the media lacks the ability, creativity, or resources to alter the form used in its coverage and adapt a new form to the unique exigencies of the particular instance of corruption.
The detective fiction form has been corrupted and no longer works. First, the careful investigation of the Watergate protagonists has been replaced by careless suggestion. Following Foster’s suicide, for example, the national media reported a string of rumors about the suicide: his body was moved from a Virginia apartment (Hillary Clinton’s apartment, according to Rush Limbaugh) where the suicide actually occurred and that his suicide occurred on the day Fiske approved searching files at the Rose Law Firm. Newsweek reported the disappointment of reporters on learning that Foster’s death was, tragically, the suicide of a depressed man:
The next day, White House officials told reporters that there was no suicide note. There was no evidence of a motive, and the authorities at that point weren’t even searching for one. The reporters looked at each other with practiced disbelief. There had to be something more. Some private horror, some scandal that Foster could not afford to face. No one was quite willing to believe that Foster had killed himself for reasons that were personal and private. (Fineman and Cohn, "The Mystery" 17)
The media, in one sense, try to provide instant results to their investigations instead of waiting for the investigations to run their course, as in Watergate. Sabato agrees: "The single most disturbing development in modern journalism is the loosening of standards that permits the publication or broadcast of unproven rumor. Responsible news veterans are deeply concerned about this trend" (222).
Second, instead of starting with many suspects and reducing the list to the prime suspect, the media has focused on the prime suspect first–Reagan and Clinton–and has forced the facts of the case to support the initial theory. Although Nixon was labeled a suspect from the opening days of Watergate, a long list of criminals was eliminated before Nixon faced serious allegations concerning the cover-up. The television series Law and Order masterfully uses a version of the traditional detective form in many episodes. After nearly an hour of mistakenly pursing the prime suspect, the plot twists and the detectives are led to the real suspect in the closing minutes of the show. The viewer, prepared for the real suspect to go free, is relieved that the detectives realize their error and capture the guilty person. Should Law and Order ever let a criminal escape, viewers would become disgruntled and stop viewing the show. Only by appeasing their viewers’ appetites for justice are the producers of Law and Order able to maintain their viewership. Real-life investigators, so far, have not realized the error of their investigation and continue to pursue the wrong suspects. As a result, the public has tuned out coverage of political scandal, and perhaps, politics as a whole.
I would be remiss not to offer some solutions to this problem. First, the media must realize that the detective fiction form is not always applicable to cases of political corruption. In any case, the media should start their investigation of possible wrongdoing at the lowest possible level–not at the top. In addition, the media should constantly monitor the veracity of their information and should refrain from editorializing in articles that are considered "straight news." For example, the statement quoted earlier about the press’s reaction to Foster’s suicide provides more information than should have been given. I think that as educators of young journalists, we in academia have a responsibility to insure that they understand the implications of media reporting and what are acceptable means of reporting.
The public has responsibility, too. First, we should take more time to understand public affairs. We should seek out multiple news sources and should welcome the opportunity to read complex articles about important issues, including allegations of political corruption. Second, the public should become more active politically and take a less cynical view toward politics in general. The media often claim to be reporting what the public wants to hear. As long as only half of the eligible public votes, the media will continue to view politics in the same cynical way that it thinks Americans view politics.
Returning to Bob Dole’s question: "Where is the outrage?" The outrage he anticipated from Whitewater, I contend, is based largely on his observations of the public mood following Watergate, in which the public was truly outraged at the actions of its leader. This outrage resulted from the media’s careful investigation of the scandal and Nixon’s own refusal to release critical evidence. Bill Clinton, on the other hand, has been "blessed" with a media that has had its credibility severely diminished over recent years. The public no longer believes that allegations of political corruption can be solved. The public is ready to accept the fact that politically corrupt politicians will go free. Until these facts change, Americans will be ready to vote for a President they think is lying.
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