Book Review

Canada and the United States

Matthew Lasar. Pacifica Radio: The Rise of an Alternative Network. (American Subjects.) Philadelphia: Temple University Press. 1999. Pp. xiii, 277. $34.95.

Arguably more than in any other society, the media in the United States have been central to political discourse and have reflected that country's historical trajectory. Debate on media responsibilities and their associated freedoms are contiguous to the evolution of the American Constitution and the commitment to free speech. At times, however, the media's confidence in their freedom from political interference has been contested, most notoriously during the "reds under the beds" scare that gripped the country after World War II. The political reaction to media that challenged the Cold War consensus reached its zenith during the dark days of the Vietnam War, shortly before Richard M. Nixon, Watergate, the publication of the Pentagon Papers, and the decline of the imperial presidency generated among journalists a renewed self-assurance.	1
Pedestrian accounts of the American media have conveniently ignored those that provided the basis for a serious challenge to the "establishment" and the political culture that it promoted. Now, at last, that fascinating story unfolds in two welcome books that were published at the same time and that deal with the same subject. Although at first their (coincidental?) simultaneous publication may suggest they are competitors, careful reading discloses that they are in fact complementary analyses. Jeff Land provides a concise introduction to the Pacifica Network, which started in San Francisco as an experiment in pacifist broadcasting after World War II and was later extended to affiliate stations in New York and Los Angeles. Whereas Matthew Lasar's treatment of the station is the result of thorough empirical research that is strong on narrative, Land locates his discussion within a framework that embraces debates on the theoretical foundations of pacifism, liberalism, and communitarianism and draws on the principal exponents of each to lend his arguments the required density. Neither author is particularly sympathetic to the station's legendary founder, Lewis Hill, who is portrayed as an egoistic figure. Hill's arrogance—feigned or otherwise—is at the heart of Land's volume. His description of Pacifica as a "brash" experiment reinforces what he calls the "swagger" of the station (p. 145), and he argues that such an attitude was central to the station's pacific zeal and its fight against the innate human passion and enthusiasm for war.	2
Both Lasar and Land agree that Hill's vision provided the energy to motivate the station, a sentiment that is captured succinctly by Land: "Radio in Hill's vision," he writes, "retained its original potential to transforrn every living roorn into a genuine public forurn and cultural Mecca, a place where, in the wake of Hiroshima and Auschwitz, people would hearken more seriously to a discussion of peace" (p. 38). Hill realized early in his career the power that the media could exercise, echoing the idealism of Guglielmo Marconi, the inventor of radio. Land reminds us, however, that Hill was as disturbed about the destruction by market forces of radio's potential as he was moved by its possible value to the pacifist cause, a familiar theme to readers in an age acquainted with warnings of the "dumbing down" of the media. Land glosses over Hill's suicide in 1957 and appears to suggest that his decision to take his own life can be explained by his depression over serious challenges to his leadership of the station and the overwhelming pressures to transform its approach to programming. Hill was depressed that he had not changed the world, the burden of many a visionary. In contrast, Lasar provides a more rounded picture of Hill. We learn much more about his life, the beginning of his lifelong involvement with pacifism (two very interesting chapters on his time at Coleville, a camp for conscientious objectors), and his severe medical problems: the crippling arthritis, the strokes, and the medication that left him depressed, isolated, self-absorbed, and alone—feelings that only magnified his melancholy and paranoia.	. . .