If Rupert Murdoch were the Angel Gabriel, you still wouldn�t
want him owning the sun, the moon, and the stars. That�s too much prime real
estate for even the pure in heart.
But Rupert Murdoch is no saint; he is to propriety what the
Marquis de Sade was to chastity. When it comes to money and power he�s
carnivorous: all appetite and no taste. He�ll eat anything in his path.
Politicians become little clay pigeons to be picked off with flattering
headlines, generous air time, a book contract or the old-fashioned blackjack
that never misses: campaign cash. He hires lobbyists the way Imelda Marcos
bought shoes, and stacks them in his cavernous closet, along with his
conscience; this is the man, remember, who famously kowtowed to the Communist
overlords of China, oppressors of their own people, to protect his investments
there.
The ambitious can�t resist his blandishments, nor his power
to get or keep them in office where they can return his favors. Mae West would
be green with envy at his little black book of conquests: Tory Margaret
Thatcher, Labor�s Tony Blair, George Bush. Even Jimmy Carter couldn�t say no.
Now, Bill and Hillary Clinton, who know which side of their bread is buttered, like
having it slathered by their new buddy Rupert. Our media and political system
have turned into a mutual protection racket.
You will not be surprised to learn that Murdoch�s company
paid little or no federal income tax over the past four years. His powerful
portfolio positions him to claim a big stake in Yahoo and his takeover of The Wall Street Journal, now owned by
the Bancroft family, which, like Adam and Eve, the parents of us all, are
tempted to sell their birthright for a wormy apple.
Murdoch and The
Journal�s editorial page are made for each other. They�ve both pursued the
right's corporate and political agenda of the past quarter century. Both
venerate what The Journal editorials
call the �animal spirits� of business. But The
Journal�s newsroom is another matter -- there facts are sacred and
independence revered. Rupert Murdoch has told the Bancrofts he�ll not meddle
with the reporting. But he�s accustomed to using journalism as a personal
spittoon. In the months leading up to the invasion of Iraq, he turned the dogs
of war loose in the newsrooms of his empire and they howled for blood. Murdoch
himself said the greatest thing to come out of the war would be �$20 a barrel
for oil.�
Of course he wasn�t the only media mogul to clamor for war.
And he�s not the first to use journalism to promote his own interests. His
worst offense with FOX News is not even its baldly partisan agenda. Far worse
is the travesty he�s made of its journalism. FOX News huffs and puffs,
pontificates and proclaims, but does little serious original reporting. His
tabloids sell babes and breasts, gossip and celebrities. Now he�s about to
bring under the same thumb one of the few national newsrooms remaining in the
country.
But the problem isn�t just Rupert Murdoch. His pursuit of The Wall Street Journal is the latest in
a cascading series of mergers, buy-outs, and other financial legerdemain that
are making a shipwreck of journalism. Public minded newspapers are being dumped
by their owners for wads of cash or crippled by cost cutting while their
broadcasting cousins race to the bottom. Murdoch is just the predator of the
hour. The modern maestro of a financial marketplace ruled by money and moguls.
Instead of checking the excesses of private and public power, these 21st
century barons of the First Amendment revel in them; the public be damned.
Bill
Moyers is the managing editor of the weekly public affairs program Bill Moyers
Journal, which airs Friday night on PBS. This essay appeared on Friday�s
program. Check local airtimes or comment at The Moyers Blog at www.pbs.org/moyers.