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When public loses opinion

Hebermas’ Public Sphere enjoyed convenient, yet rational specificity, in time and place: 18^th century England. The formation of the bourgeoisie culture coupled with an expansion of liberal democracy gave rise to an increasingly educated populace with precise interests, rights and expectations. Using coffee houses and other public places as mediums for their dialogue, English bourgeoisie managed to create their own Public Sphere, which eventually contributed to the formation of public opinion. Other Western democracies, notwithstanding France with its undeniable history of active citizenry, were soon to be part of the growing movement.

Of course, Hebermas’ concept, like any other groundbreaking realisation, ensued a debate, and an intense one at that. Some argued that there are indeed various Public Spheres, overlapping and simultaneous. Others argued against the existence of such a concept altogether. The debate is obviously much more elaborate and is unlikely to settle any time soon.

But Hebermas’ ideas and their outreach —first introduced in his book “The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere —An Inquiry into a Category of Bourgeois Society” in 1962-persisted in relevance and import.

The rise and endurance of the Public Sphere of the 18^th and 19^th centuries was momentous in the sense that it finally defined a relationship between the state and the public, on somewhat more equitable grounds. Public opinion finally mattered, or so it seemed. The way that such opinion was communicated required fewer mediums and even less middlemen.

Regardless of where the Public Sphere begins and where it ends —for at times it failed to fairly represent women, minorities, labourers and other historically marginalised groups —it at least succeeded in establishing and defining the boundaries between that of the Life-world and the System, the first representing the mutual solidarity of those involved in making the Public Sphere and the latter concerned with the state, its apparatus and its own concern with power and authority.

As expected, the relationship would have to be that of push and pull, whereby the Life-world would fend for and attempt to expand its social and political significance while the System would incessantly attempt to colonise the Public Sphere and its Life-world. One would rightly expect that a healthy democracy is one that offers a balance of power between the public and the state, enough to keep those in power in check, and to protect society from a state of chaos. Evidently, well-established democracies were little interested in reverting to past historic experiences with their feudalistic and authoritative regimes. The 20^th century was an attestation to that assertion as much as it was an attestation to the rapid colonisation of the Public Sphere using other means, aside from brute power and coercion: that of capitalism.

Capitalism saw the uneven distribution of wealth, thus power. While the bourgeoisie Public Sphere of past centuries had long conceded to an ever-expanding Life-world, the concentration of wealth in the hands of a few, once again, redefined the relationship between public and authority. The System had finally managed to penetrate the virtual solidarity of the Life-world through newfound rapports struck between the state and the new capitalists. Those with the money found it more beneficial to keep public opinion in check to appease the state, in exchange for a share of power and privilege that can only be granted by the state; thus the populace might think that its opinion counts, but in actuality, it matters little.

This may simply explain why Hebermas, among others, spoke of the ‘rise and fall’ of the Public Sphere at a time when we seem to have more access to media platforms than ever before. In short, what remains of the Public Sphere is the illusion that there is one.

Not as if Hebermas’ ideas require a compelling reason to be discussed; they are indeed compelling on their own. However, an article in the Guardian on July 1^st, by Lance Price, former media adviser to the British prime minister brought the topic back to mind. Price asserted that media tycoon Rupert Murdoch, arguably the most powerful man in the media world today, seemed like the 24^th member of the British cabinet. Murdoch, the Australian-born US citizen literally owns a significant share in public opinion through his control of the world’s largest media conglomerates.

“I have never met Mr Murdoch, but at times when I worked at Downing Street he seemed like the 24^th member of the cabinet. His voice was rarely heard (but, then, the same could have been said of many of the other 23) but his presence was always felt,” Price wrote.

Murdoch “attended many crisis meetings at the Home Office —the influence of the Murdoch press on immigration and asylum policy would make a fascinating PhD thesis,” the author of best-selling ‘The Spin Doctor’s Diary’ added. “There is no small irony in the fact that Tony Blair flew halfway round the world to address Mr Murdoch and his News International executives in the first year of his leadership of the Labor party and that he’s doing so again next month (July, 2006) in what may prove to be his last.”

Shocking as they may seem, the revelations of Price, a man who was involved in the workings of the British government, appear utterly consistent with the strengthening bond between the mainstream media and governments in Western democracies. Such a bond is equally, but especially visible in the United States. But the relationship between states and media become even the more dangerous when both team up —and not by accident —at the same ideological turf. Murdoch is a right wing, pro-Israel (a personal friend of Israel’s Ariel Sharon), pro-war ideologue. In 2003, all editorial pages of his 175 newspapers around the world touted the same pro-war mantras. Some might’ve innocently deduced that the “world’s media” are all inadvertently converging on a consensus that sees President Bush as someone who is “acting very morally (and) very correctly” —to borrow Murdoch’s own language —and that such convergence is a reflection of the overall international public consensus on the matter; however, the reality was starkly different.

Of course, Murdoch, who owns numerous newspapers, TV stations and news services throughout the world is not the exception, but the norm. In fact, a greater convergence is constantly taking place in the media world in the United States, which gives a few individual media conglomerates unprecedented ownership of thousands of radio and television stations, newspapers, magazines, etc. While some still laud the ‘freedom of the press’, little aware of who owns what, democracy is being greatly compromised: the Life-world is conceding like never before to the ever-encroaching System, and a true Public Sphere is almost non-existent, at least in any meaningful form.

While states cannot reverse time, by recreating past relationships that guarantee them absolute power, they’ve understood the inimitable value of the media in its ability to formulate a favourable public opinion that seems incidentally consistent with that of the state. In exchange, the commercial and even ideological interests of those who own the media are always guaranteed. As long as such a correlation is not fully recognised and disabled, true democracy will continue to experience a frightening decline, whereby meaningful participatory democracy is replaced by mere democracy rhetoric used to satisfy political, ideological and ultimately imperialistic ends. Without a crucial awakening that gives the public back what is rightfully theirs —its opinion, its Public Sphere and its democracy —this downward spiral is likely to continue.

Ramzy Baroud’s latest book: The Second Palestinian Intifada: A Chronology of a People’s Struggle (Pluto Press, London) is now available at Amazon.com.