There's an Insidious Strategy Behind Donald Trump's Retweets

‘I’m not saying, I’m just saying.’ (Punyaruk Baingern/Shutterstock.com)

⏩ Editor’s note: This is an updated version of the article "How Donald Trump Gets Away With Saying Things Other Candidates Can't" published in March 2016

By Jennifer Mercieca, Texas A&M University

On Nov. 29, President Trump retweeted a series of videos that purported to depict violence committed by Muslims. They had originated from the account of a far-right British ultranationalist who had been convicted for harassing a Muslim. The backlash was swift, with British Prime Minister Theresa May saying “the President is wrong to have done this.”

But Trump’s retweeting of controversial (sometimes outright false) content is part of a pattern.

For example, during the 2016 campaign, George Stephanopoulos asked Donald Trump about his retweet of a follower who insisted that both Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz were ineligible for the presidency.

Trump dismissed Stephanopoulos’ question with “it was a retweet” – as if to say that retweeting someone else’s claim meant that he wasn’t responsible for the content.

When pressed, Trump continued:

“I mean, let people make their own determination. I’ve never looked at it, George. I honestly have never looked at it. As somebody said, he’s not [eligible]…and I retweet things and we start dialogue and it’s very interesting.”

It’s a response that can be reduced to I’m not saying it, I’m just saying it.

As a scholar of American political rhetoric, I’ve previously written about the ways that Donald Trump’s rhetorical style mirrors that of polarizing figures like George Wallace and Joseph McCarthy.

But it’s becoming increasingly clear that what sets Trump apart is his reliance upon paralipsis, a device that enables him to publicly say things that he can later disavow – without ever having to take responsibility for his words.

Just saying…
The art of rhetoric – or persuasive communication – can include any number of forms: speeches, essays, tweets, images, films and more.

Paralipsis (para, “side” and leipein, “to leave”) is a Greek term that translates to “leave to the side.” It’s thought to be an ironic way for a speaker to say two things at once.

For example, say you wanted to imply that your coworker takes too many coffee breaks without actually accusing him wasting time at work. You might say something like, “I’m not saying that he drinks more coffee than anyone else in the office, but every time I go to the break room, he’s in there.” You might also shrug and make a “something seems kind of off” facial expression.

Paralipsis is a powerful rhetorical device because it can also allow someone to make a false accusation – or spread a false rumor – while skirting consequences.
And Trump has become a master at wielding this tool.

For example, after he was widely condemned for retweeting a graphic of homicide data delineated by race, FactCheck.org found that “almost every figure in the graphic is wrong.” His response on the Bill O’Reilly Show was:

Bill, I didn’t tweet, I retweeted somebody that was supposedly an expert, and it was also a radio show…am I gonna check every statistic? …All it was is a retweet. And it wasn’t from me. It came out of a radio show, and other places…This was a retweet. And it comes from sources that are very credible, what can I tell you?

In other words: I’m not saying, I’m just saying.

Meanwhile, Trump has repeatedly used paralipsis to deflect criticism that he’s courting white supremacists.

In January 2016, Trump retweeted a photoshopped image of Jeb Bush from a user with the handle WhiteGenocideTM. In response to the backlash he received for retweeting a white supremacist, Trump simply shrugged: “I don’t know about retweeting. You retweet somebody and they turn out to be white supremacists. I know nothing about these groups that are supporting me.”

Likewise, he blamed a faulty earpiece for his unwillingness to disavow David Duke and the KKK in a CNN interview:

I don’t know anything about what you’re even talking about with white supremacy or white supremacists. So I don’t know. I don’t know – did he endorse me, or what’s going on? Because I know nothing about David Duke; I know nothing about white supremacists.

I’m not saying, I’m just saying.

And when Gawker tricked Trump into retweeting a quote from Benito Mussolini during the campaign, his response was “What difference does it make whether it’s Mussolini or somebody else? It’s certainly a very interesting quote.”

Accountability and responsibility
Certainly it’s a good thing to “start dialogue.” Trump knows that “interesting” content attracts retweets, followers, audiences and media attention.

However, there’s danger in circulating accusations and rumors, even if the purpose is to “start dialogue.” Research shows that once an accusation or a rumor begins to circulate, it’s very difficult to retract. Often, a retraction or clarification doesn’t receive as much attention as the initial accusation. Meanwhile, the mere act of retracting misinformation can reaffirm the deceptive assertions as facts, even after the clarification.

So what does it mean when a political figure gains a devoted following and rises to prominence – yet consistently avoids taking responsibility for the content of his public messages?

Political theorists, rhetoricians and historians have grappled with this exact problem since the rise of the “demagogue” in Athens in 429 B.C., when Pericles’ death created a vacuum for “unofficial” leaders of the people to rise to power.

The danger, according to political scientist Ernest Barker, was that “such a leader – having no official executive position – could exercise initiative and determine policy without incurring political responsibility, since it was not his duty to execute the policy which he had induced the assembly to accept.”

In the Greek context, Barker described the danger of demagogues who weren’t tasked with implementing the policies for which they advocated. In our current political context, Trump can argue that he can’t be held accountable because he wasn’t the one who originally posted the tweet. He can shrug and claim that he’s simply giving a voice to an idea.
In both cases, the defining feature of demagogues is their refusal to accept responsibility for their actions.

Donald Trump, Reality TV "Star"

Yet Donald Trump (the television star) routinely fired people on his show “The Apprentice” for failing to take responsibility for their team’s failures. And he’s often given lectures on “responsibility” to his Twitter followers, like on February 14, 2013 when he invited his followers to “take responsibility for yourself – it’s a very empowering attitude.”

To use the President’s brand of paralipsis: I’m not saying that Trump’s a hypocrite and a demagogue. I’m just saying that he doesn’t exactly follow his own advice.


About Today's Contributor:
Jennifer Mercieca, Associate Professor of Communication and Director of the Aggie Agora, Texas A&M University

This article was originally published on The Conversation.

Video: CAIR Responds to Donald Trump's Anti-Muslim Retweets

Donald Trump has retweeted Britain First deputy leader (image via The Independent)

Earlier today, the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR), the nation's largest Muslim civil rights and advocacy organization, responded to what it called President Trump's "incitement to violence against American Muslims" after he retweeted Islamophobic videos from Jayda Fransen, an anti-Muslim British political leader who has been charged in the United Kingdom with "religious aggravated harassment."

SEE: 
⏩ Trump Shares Inflammatory Anti-Muslim Videos
⏩ Trump Retweets Anti-Muslim Videos

Joining CAIR at the Capitol Hill news conference in Washington, D.C., were representatives of the Muslim Public Affairs Council (MPAC) and South Asian Americans Leading Together (SAALT).

SPEAKERS: (In Order of Appearance) CAIR National Communications Director Ibrahim Hooper, CAIR National Executive Director Nihad Awad, MPAC Policy Fellow for Religious Freedom Ilhan Cagri, and SAALT Director of National Policy and Advocacy Lakshmi Sridaran.

Video: CAIR News Conference in Response to Donald Trump's Anti-Muslim Tweets

In a prepared statement, CAIR National Executive Director Nihad Awad said:

This morning, millions of Americans were shocked but not surprised to see President Trump re-tweet anti-Muslim videos.

One of the videos has already been de-bunked by Snopes. The other two videos are unverified.

The videos were from a hate group known as "Britain First," which calls for a comprehensive ban on Islam in the UK and to deport British Muslims, who've made the UK their home for generations.

President Trump's actions are putting the lives and safety of American Muslim children and families at risk. 

Hate speech leads to hate crimes. When hate speech and conspiracy theories against American minorities go unchallenged, they foster an atmosphere that causes hate crimes.

Throughout this year, CAIR offices nationwide received, on average, at least 1-2 daily reports of hate crimes targeting American Muslims, Muslim houses of worship, or people perceived as Muslim.

As numerous Americans who are Muslim or 'looked Muslim' were shot or beaten severely, we did not hear a word from this President.

During most of these attacks, attackers uttered or expressed the same anti-Muslim slurs repeated daily in mainstream headlines and often by President Trump himself.

This is a continuation of President Trump's pattern of sexual, religious and racial harassment of many Americans. This includes Trump's attempts to turn Americans against each other… and his standing by Alabama Senate candidate Roy Moore, who was credibly accused of inappropriate contact with children.

Trump has infected the Republican Party and I am asking my Republican friends who believe in the words of the Declaration of Independence, in Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, in the 14th Amendment, and in the Constitution's guarantees of equal justice under law, to not sit idly by while all this injustice continues.

This is not a conservative or liberal issue; it is an American one.

I am asking our nation's Republican leadership:

• When will you draw a line in the sand against this bigotry and harassment?

• What will it take for the Republican Party to say that these actions do not represent the Grand Old Party? 

• When will you put country over party? 

• When is the Republican Leadership, RNC Chair Ronna McDaniel, House Speaker Paul Ryan, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, going to stand up for all Americans? This cannot be the America you want your children to live in. 

Millions of Americans worry about our safety and future. 

We need Republican Party leadership to publicly affirm American values of religious freedom,

We need Republican Party leadership to join us in reminding our fellow Americans that while some may want to divide us, we are, and always will be, Americans, united as one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

CAIR has witnessed an unprecedented spike in hate incidents targeting American Muslims and members of other minority groups since the election of Donald Trump as president.

SEE: 
⏩ CAIR Report Shows 2017 on Track to Becoming One of Worst Years Ever for Anti-Muslim Hate Crimes
⏩ CAIR Says New FBI Hate Crimes Report Shows Need to Stand Up to Increasing Bigotry

Earlier today, Awad also tweeted in response to Trump's hate posts: 

"Have you no sense of decency, Sir? Do you know how many anti-Muslims incidents in the US we recorded at #CAIR this year alone? 3,296. And we haven't heard a peep from you. Some president."

To read Nihad Awad's post on Twitter, click here...

SOURCE: Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR)

More Related Stuff: 

Donald Trump and Britain First: White House scrambles to defend President as global condemnation grows

Donald Trump is retweeting the deputy leader of far-right group Britain First

Bonus Picture:

(courtesy of Trumpton)

After consulting the White House vet, Mr Kelly decided to tackle Mr Trump’s Twittering

'Trust Us, We're Lying': Eurozine And Cultural Journals From Across Europe Take A Closer Look At The Power Of 'Post-Truth' In A New Series Of Online Articles And Debates

Vladimir Putin's War on Information (Image via kbia.org)

In a new series of online articles launched by the Eurozine network of cultural journals, 13 cultural journalists and academics from across Europe, plus U.S. writers, examine in-depth the phenomena of fake news, post-truth and disinformation.

Eurozine's focal point 'Disinformation and Democracy' combines empirical studies at national levels with theoretical discussion of the politics of post-truth; analyses of contemporary developments with intellectual and conceptual histories; and investigations of the political fringes, asking: what now constitutes democratic 'normality'?

⏩ It's impossible to ignore Russia's role in these phenomena. 

• Markus Wehner gives an overview of the strategy and techniques of Russian 'infowar' 

• Anton Shekhovtsov traces how far-right groups across Europe and the U.S. use Russian web-hosting to spread anti-western propaganda 

• Daniel Leisegang assesses the effectiveness of Germany's new law on online hate speech and fake news, given the virtual migration to the Runet. Shifting the focus to eastern Europe 

• Milena Iakimova and Dimitar Vatsov explore how, in Bulgaria, Russian propaganda has co-opted western grassroots criticism of liberalism and globalization since 2013. They note: 'We were ... amazed when we started hearing the talking points identified by our study now coming from the mouth of the new U.S. President, Donald Trump.' 

• From dialectical materialism to neoliberalism, any politics that lays claims to the truth is both illusory and dangerous, argues Jean-Claude Monod 

• Political scientist Joseph Uscinski explores the relationship between conspiracy theorizing and partisanship in the U.S., pointing out: 'If one wants to challenge mainstream wisdom, conspiracy theories are an excellent rhetorical device for doing so.' 

• Providing historical perspective, Marci Shore compares western intellectuals' response to the disappointment of 'real-existing communism' with that of the dissidents who lived under it: can a radical concept of truth counter the threat of 'post-modern dictatorships'? 

• Valentin Groebner traces a thread of fakery in 'news' right back to the Middle Ages.

Fake News Invasion (image via thedisorderofthings.com)

⏩All the focal point texts are available in English in Eurozine.

⏩This editorial collaboration within the Eurozine network continued via a series of panel discussions at the 28th European Meeting of Cultural Journals in Tartu, Estonia in October 2017.

The discussions can be viewed  below:

-

SOURCE: Eurozine

Before Breitbart, There Was The Charleston News And Courier

Political reporter William D. Workman speaks at a GOP event in 1962. (Courtesy of South Carolina Political Collections, University of South Carolina, CC BY)

By Sid Bedingfield, University of Minnesota

Conservatives who dislike Donald Trump like to blame the president and his Breitbart cheering section for the racial demagoguery they see in today’s Republican Party.
For example, New York Times columnist David Brooks lamented the GOP’s transformation over the past decade from a party that had always been decent on racial issues to one that now embraced “white identity politics.”

I respect Brooks and read him regularly, but on this issue he and his ideological allies have a blind spot. They ignore overwhelming evidence showing the central role racial politics played in the Republican Party’s rise to power after the civil rights movement.
In my book “Newspaper Wars: Civil Rights and White Resistance in South Carolina,” I write about the white journalists who helped revive the GOP in one Deep South state. Their story shows how prominent voices of the conservative movement have long harnessed racial resentment to fuel the party’s political ascendancy.

A journalistic mouthpiece for segregation
In 1962, Republican William D. Workman Jr. launched a long-shot bid for a U.S. Senate seat in South Carolina. For more than eight decades, the Democratic Party had been the only party that mattered in state politics. To most white voters, it represented the overthrow of Reconstruction and the restoration of white political rule.

Yet Workman nearly defeated a two-term Democratic incumbent. It was a turning point that signaled the GOP’s reemergence as a competitive force in the region.

The nation’s top political reporter, James Reston of The New York Times, traveled to South Carolina to examine this new GOP in the Deep South. He called Workman a “journalistic Goldwater Republican.” It might seem like an odd description, but it fit the candidate perfectly.

Political reporter William D. Workman’s 1962 U.S. Senate campaign in South Carolina proved that ‘Goldwater Republicans’ could compete in the Deep South.(Courtesy of South Carolina Political Collections, University of South Carolina)

Before he joined the senate race, Workman had been the state’s best-known political reporter. He had also been working secretly with GOP allies to build the party in South Carolina and rally support for Arizona Sen. Barry Goldwater, leader of the GOP’s rising conservative wing.

In the late 1950s, Workman and his boss, Charleston News and Courier editor Thomas R. Waring Jr., were staunch segregationists who had found a political ally in William F. Buckley Jr., conservative editor of a new journal, National Review.

As political scientist Joseph E. Lowndes notes, National Review was the first conservative journal to try to link the southern opposition to enforced integration with the small-government argument that was central to economic conservatism.

In 1957, Buckley delivered the magazine’s most forthright overture to southern segregationists. In an editorial on black voting rights, Buckley called whites “the advanced race” in the South and said whites, therefore, should be allowed to “take such measures as necessary to prevail, politically and culturally, in areas in which it does not predominate numerically.” In Buckley’s view, “the claims of civilization supersede those of universal suffrage.”

In the News and Courier, Waring described the editorial as “brave words,” but Buckley’s argument created a firestorm within the conservative movement. His brother-in-law, L. Brent Bozell, condemned the editorial in the pages of Buckley’s own magazine. Bozell said Buckley’s unconstitutional appeal to white supremacy threatened to do “grave hurt to the conservative movement.”

Workman and the ‘great white switch’
Buckley and Goldwater began avoiding such overtly racist appeals, but it took longer for their southern allies to temper their rhetoric and master the use of racially coded language. In his 1960 book, “The Case for the South,” Workman wrote that African-Americans remained “a white man’s burden” – a “violent” and “indolent” people who needed guidance from their white superiors.

Two years later, Workman rallied local and national Republicans to his banner in the senate race. At the time, the tiny GOP in South Carolina was run by conservative businessmen who had migrated to the Palmetto State from the North. They embraced Goldwater’s call for lower taxes, weaker unions and smaller government, but the Republicans lacked credibility with white voters who cared mostly about segregation and white political rule.
Workman’s 1962 campaign changed that. He united the state’s racial and economic conservatives, a political marriage that would fuel the party’s dramatic growth in South Carolina and the nation over the next two decades.

As historian Dan T. Carter contends, “even though the streams of racial and economic conservatism have sometimes flowed in separate channels, they ultimately joined in the political coalition that reshaped American politics” in the years after the civil rights movement.

In 1964, South Carolina Sen. Strom Thurmond – the former Dixiecrat presidential candidate – left the Democratic Party and joined the GOP. Courtesy of South Carolina Political Collections, University of South Carolina

Workman was thrilled by the letters he received from northern conservatives who embraced his campaign. One of those was William Loeb, editor of New Hampshire’s Manchester Union-Leader, who told Workman the GOP should become “the white man’s party.” Loeb said his proposal would “leave Democrats with the Negro vote,” but give the Republicans the white vote and “white people, thank God, are still in the majority.”

Buoyed by the surprising strength of Workman’s campaign, South Carolina’s junior senator, Strom Thurmond, abandoned the Democratic Party in 1964 and joined the Republicans. Sixteen years earlier, Thurmond had left the Democrats briefly to run for president as a “Dixiecrat” on the States’ Rights ticket. His surprise announcement in 1964 signaled the start of what political scientists call the “great white switch.”

As more African-American voters joined the Democratic Party, southern whites moved to the GOP. William Loeb was getting his wish.

Reagan and the Neshoba County Fair
By the late 1970s, Ronald Reagan had united former segregationists with economic and social conservatives to create a political movement that would dominate American politics. Reagan built this coalition in part through the use of coded rhetoric tying race to such issues as crime, welfare and government spending.

In 1980, he launched his fall presidential campaign at the Neshoba County Fair near Philadelphia, Mississippi. Sixteen years earlier, three civil rights activists had been murdered in Neshoba County and buried in an earthen dam. Reagan used his visit to declare his support for states’ rights – a phrase indelibly linked to Thurmond’s Dixiecrat campaign of 1948.

In a 2007 column, Brooks angrily disputes any notion that Reagan’s Neshoba County trip was a dog-whistle appeal to white racial resentment in the post-civil rights era. He calls such claims a “slur” and a “calumny.” Reagan’s campaign was notoriously disorganized, Brooks argues. The candidate had planned to launch his general election campaign discussing inner-city problems with the Urban League, not preaching states’ rights in Neshoba County.
Maybe he’s right. Perhaps it was just a scheduling mishap. But on the question of race and politics, I’m more inclined to believe Lee Atwater, the late political strategist from South Carolina.

Atwater served as White House political director under Reagan and chief strategist for President George H. W. Bush’s 1988 campaign. In a 1981 interview with political scientist Alexander Lamis, Atwater explained the evolution of coded racial language in political campaigns in the South.

“You start out in 1954 by saying, ‘nigger, nigger, nigger.’ By 1968 you can’t say ‘nigger’ – that hurts you, backfires,” Atwater said. “So you say stuff like forced busing, states’ rights, and all that stuff, and you’re getting so abstract. Now, you’re talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you’re talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is, blacks get hurt worse than whites…”

This is not to say that all Republicans are racist, or that economic, social and cultural issues played no role in the rise of the conservative GOP. But it is clear that racial resentment mattered to voters – a lot – and the Republican Party found ways to stoke that animus for political gain.

Donald Trump’s racial appeals may be more transparent. But in him, the legacy of conservative journalists like William Workman lives on.

About Today's Contributor:
Sid Bedingfield, Assistant Professor of Journalism, University of Minnesota

This article was originally published on The Conversation..

Why 'Judeo-Christian Values' Are A Dog-Whistle Myth Peddled By The Far Right

President Trump recently stated his support for ‘Judeo-Christian values’ … but what does that phrase really mean? (Pixabay, CC BY-SA)

By M J C Warren, University of Sheffield

The phrase “Judeo-Christian” has been around since the 1930s but US President Donald Trump recently resurrected it in a deeply problematic speech on October 13, 2017 in which he said: “We are stopping cold the attacks on Judeo-Christian values … We’re saying ‘Merry Christmas’ again.”

It might seem neighbourly, even pluralistic, to include Judaism in a declaration of purported Western values. But in reality this isn’t how the term has functioned, either historically or more recently. Instead, the phrase is used to exclude rather than include. Despite implying that Jews are part of this resurrection of Judeo-Christian values, Trump in no way intends a campaign to Make Hanukkah Great Again. His “Judeo-Christian values” are about protecting Christmas, and about protecting Christians – at the exclusion of others.

Christian-majority nations such as the UK and US often lay claim to laws and ethics based on “Judeo-Christian values”. But it is important to remember that Jews have been systematically excluded from and terrorised by states that claim this Judeo-Christian foundation.

From the 1290 expulsion of Jews from England to Jewish refugees being turned away by Canada, the US and the UK during World War II, Jews have been excluded more often than welcomed.

For centuries, Jews have been made to feel unwelcome in the Christian world and it seems that it is only now that a new demographic of (often Muslim) immigrants fleeing war and economic hardship have reached the West that Jews are being included – and even then only on someone else’s terms.

A right wing slogan
“Judeo-Christian” is now most often used to draw a line between imagined Christian values and a perceived (but false) threat of Muslim immigration. It’s in this context, that right wing figures such as Nigel Farage use the phrase. Talking about radical Muslim clerics such as Anjem Choudary, he said for example:

My country is a Judeo-Christian country. So we’ve got to actually start standing up for our values.

But in this statement, Farage connects his fears of radical Islam with the idea of “Judeo-Christian values”. It appears that it isn’t so much about including Jews as it is about excluding Muslims. And since Farage has also come under attack for anti-Semitic comments, including being called on to apologise after recent comments about the threat of “the Jewish lobby” to American politics, it seems hard to view the “Judeo-” in his “Judeo-Christian” as actually valuing Jewish people or Judaism as a religion.

Farage’s statement even prompted the Campaign Against Anti-Semitism to demand an apology.

Time and again, when Farage and Trump use the term, what they really imply is an “us-versus-them” division between the West and Islam. This is not about the inclusion of Jews in the values of these nations, then, but about the xenophobic exclusion of an “other”.

Invoked in anti-immigration rhetoric with the goal of excluding Muslims, this phrase is actually used to scaffold a false narrative about Christians being persecuted, threatened or besieged, which gives motivation for the protection of “Judeo-Christian values”. In fact, Christians are not persecuted in the countries where Farage and Trump make their homes.

Supersessionism
A quick search on Twitter for the phrase “Judeo-Christian” illustrates that white supremacists have embraced the term – and that Jews reject it.

It’s not surprising that many Jews are not falling for this dog-whistle phrase, especially since the myth of a Judeo-Christian society rests on the false – and dangerous – idea that Judaism and Christianity hold the same ideas and values.

There are many fundamental differences between these two religions – and that’s OK. To respect and value Judaism means to do so on its own terms, and not only if it conforms to Christian ideas about what religion should be. Ignoring these differences (and to pretend that Jews and Christians believe the same things) risks subsuming Judaism into Christianity. It risks viewing Judaism as an archaic precursor to Christianity rather than a continuing unique and vibrant tradition. There is nothing “Judeo” about saying Merry Christmas.

Indeed, the phrase “Judeo-Christian” erases Judaism by implying that Christian values are Jewish values. Erasing Judaism by subsuming it into Christianity is called supersessionism, a tactic of Christian polemicists for centuries, and one that is currently in use by the Christian religious right.

It seems, then, that the idea of Judeo-Christian values excludes both Jews and Muslims. The phrase tacitly excludes Jews by subsuming Judaism into Christianity, and it explicitly excludes Muslims in its use in anti-immigration rhetoric. In reality, “Judeo-Christian values” actually point to a particular type of right-wing Christian values. Continuing to use this phrase only contributes to exclusionary and divisive political rhetoric. When we hear it, we should call it out for what it is.

About Today's Contributor:
M J C Warren, Lecturer in Biblical and Religious Studies, University of Sheffield

This article was originally published on The Conversation.

The Statement from Broadcasting Board of Governors CEO John F. Lansing Regarding the Russian Federation's Media Law

BBG CEO and Director John F. Lansing

"President Putin has signed a law under which foreign media organizations can be classified as "foreign agents." Russian officials have indicated that, under this law, even more restrictions may be placed on the BBG's networks, including Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (RFE/RL) and Voice of America (VOA), and their services, including the Current Time television and digital network.

RFE/RL, VOA, and the other networks of U.S. international media will remain committed to our mission, stipulated by U.S. law, to provide accurate, objective, and comprehensive journalism and other content to our global audiences, including in the Russian Federation.

We will study carefully all communications we may receive from Russian authorities concerning our operations. While we will not speculate as to the effect that any new steps by the Russian government will have on our journalistic work, any characterization of such steps as reciprocity for U.S. actions severely distorts reality. Russian media, including RT and Sputnik, are free to operate in the United States and can be, and are, carried by U.S. cable television outlets and FM radio stations. However, U.S international media, including VOA and RFE/RL, are banned from television and radio in Russia.

In addition, our journalists on assignment are harassed by Russian authorities and face extensive restrictions on their work. RFE/RL contributor Mykola Semena recently was sentenced by a Russian court for an article he wrote, and contributor Stanislav Asayev is being held by Russia-backed separatists in Ukraine. RFE/RL journalists were knocked down and kicked while on assignment in Russia's southern region of Krasnodar in March, and VOA correspondent Daniel Schearf has been denied a visa to re-enter Russia. 

The BBG would be pleased if the current focus on reciprocity between Russian and American media ends by giving U.S. outlets – including U.S. international media such as VOA and RFE/RL – the same rights and opportunities in Russia that Russian networks have in the United States."

SOURCE: Broadcasting Board of Governors

Broadcasting Board of Governors Logo (PRNewsFoto/Broadcasting Board of Governors)

Related Articles:

• On The Detainment Of BBG Chair Jeff Shell
• Countering Disinformation 
• US Broadcasting Exec: We Respond to Russian Propaganda with 'Facts'
• John Lansing Named as New Chief of Broadcasting Board of Governors

Bonus Videos:

"Stranger Things" and Neon Cinematography

⏩ The following is the translation of an article originally published in French. If you would like to read this article in its glorious original version (with all its own pics, links, video-clips included,) just scroll down and you will find it just below the translated one... 

Enjoy this bi-lingual journey👍
Loup Dargent

Stranger Things 2 - Eleven Fanart (via DeviantArt)

Begun in 2016, the Stranger Things series is the surprise hit of the Netflix platform. Oscillating work between fantasy, science fiction and slice of life - the name of these drawer intrigues focusing on the everyday lives of characters living in the same place like Twin Peaks - the series of Matt and Ross Duffer pays tribute to the popular culture of the 1980s by resuscitating some of his past glories such as Winona Ryder (Beetlejuice), Sean Astin (the Goonies) or Matthew Modine (Full Metal Jacket).

In its second season, the series is more ambitious in terms of intrigues and themes but also more referential to the era of his diegetic universe. Yet for many years now, many works have challenged themselves to resurrect the 80s with much tribute but also subterfuges sometimes easy. How then can a series like Stranger Things happen almost after the battle and embark on such a venture without necessarily falling into the pitfalls inherent in our time?

The 1980s seen by the years 2000 and 2010  
It is no coincidence that we are talking about the decade of American media, art and cultural overproduction as "Reagan years". The fortieth president of the United States, former actor, is the very symbol of this excess whose color specters still haunt the minds when we pronounce the fateful expression of the 80s. From furious clips of Cyndi Lauper to Steven Spielberg's adventure films to the escapades of the various rockstars of the time, this maelstrom of popular culture is an inexhaustible reservoir for anyone who today would like to represent these ten orgiastic years. At the moment Denis Villeneuve finally offers a sequel to Blade Runner and where those who made the luster of these years disappear gradually, like George Michael or David Bowie, a series like Stranger Things comes at the right time, offering a different vision of the clichés ginned in recent years in different media artistic.

Because the 80s and 80s are often used. The ingredients often used to define an "eighties" atmosphere are generally reduced to colored lighting, music synthesizer, some standards of the time and obsolete gadgets like huge mobile phones, shoes that blink or the hilarious walkman.

Mike and Eleven (via DeviantArt) 

Do we want to represent the real 80s? What did the films of the day leave us in memory of? Or simply a fantasy version of this decade seen by current artists? Implied who did not know the 80s? For a work, whatever the period of which it speaks, says more about that of its production. David Sandberg's short film Kung Fury is the perfect example: released in 2015, this pastiche of 80s action and sci-fi movies uses the extreme of what we call the "Neon cinematography", representing the Reagan years by misusing its motives, even its clichés. With an avalanche of digital effects, Kung Fury do not deceive and the Canada Dry effect is inevitable: it smells of the 80s, it tastes of the 80s, but it is not the 80s, simply an imitation by the year 2010. It does not remove anything that the film remains a true homage not to the cinema of the time but more to the arcade games like Streets of Rage or Double Dragon.

Other audiovisual productions have abandoned digital effects - a real anachronism for the 80's purists - to focus on other elements. Even if the ever-present neon are almost every David Leitch's Atomic Blonde sequence or Owen Harris's "San Junipero" TV movie, fourth episode of Black Mirror season 3 , this is another process that is used to that the spectator feels immediately transported thirty years back: the music.

If the synthesizer instrument-totem of the decade is actually present, it is often the additional tracks taken here and there in various compilations that feed the general atmosphere of these two works: "Atomic Blonde" opens on "Blue Monday" by New wave band New Order and concludes with "Under Pressure" by David Bowie and Freddie Mercury, while "San Junipero" is "Heaven Is a Place on Earth" by Belinda Carlisle. All these reasons so 80s working diegetic placing these works in a particular context: the fall of the Berlin Wall for the film Leitch and a nostalgic utopia populated by nightclubs and arcades, places to neon obviously, for the episode of Black Mirror.

MAD MAX - Stranger Things (via DeviantArt)

Light, color, frenzied rhythms: everything borders on the spatio-temporal journey to the Reagan years. Yet this decade rich in mass cultural successes can be represented much less frontally, more referenced and ultimately much more faithful to reality.

The 80s as at the time  
For Stranger Things, the Duffer brothers and their directors are going to appeal more to the process of happy few, these references resonating with attentive viewers feeling both nostalgic and rewarded for recognizing them: a looser club reminiscent of Stephen King's It released in 1986, these kids going on an adventure on bikes like in The Goonies by Richard Donner in 1985 or the presence of Sean Astin in the cast of season 2 to support a little more the link with the previous work.

Netflix's new flagship series is a melting pot of references sometimes hidden within the narrative construction or themes sometimes openly assumed as evidenced by the episode "Trick or Treat Freak" in which the festivities of Halloween serve as a pretext for showrunners to loudly shout their love of the Ghostbusters franchise, right down to the final twist. Stranger Things does not play the card of the neon colorimetry to anchor itself in a reality fantasized by dint of clichés but prefers to pay tribute to the culture of the time which amounts, in other words, to assume its fictional dimension and to claim oneself as such. After all, except the Blade Runner from Ridley Scott and Roger Donaldson's Cocktail poster, neon lights are not so present in the 80s.

Stranger Things 2 x Ghost Busters Mashup Poster (via DeviantArt)

Like Andres Muschietti's new adaptation of It, Matt and Ross Duffer's series gives pride of place to naturalistic images, with the exception of purely science-fiction sequences, focusing more on everyday life. a small American city in 1984 between bike rides, Dungeons and Dragons evenings and tasting Eggo waffles. Everything is in the detail and not in the bidding of visual effects as is the case for the parody clip "Through the Night" Grum electro group.

Stranger Things Alternative Poster (via DeviantArt)

Everything happens at the production level, in the choice of accessories, costumes and sets, and not in post-production, with a lot of color filters and musical pieces chosen according to their place in the billboard. If some typical sounds ranging from Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" to The Police's "Every Breath You Take" sporadically get the characters to dance, so does Anthrax's "Trust" revival in It , Stranger Things abandon the quasi-systematic reflex of the vintage jukebox proper to productions that anchor their diegesis in a predefined time. The two creators will also admit in the second episode of the making-of series "Beyond Stranger Things" that the bulk of the musical budget of the second season focuses on the final scene of the Snowball.

Yet, although particularly naturalistic in its desire to represent, resurrect the popular culture of the 80s, Stranger Things, like the new adaptation of It, do not go to the end of his intentions. Digital is always very present, either in the sequences around the portal leading to the lair of the Mind Flayer, the representations of this creature or even the Demogorgon of the first season. In the 1980s, studio sets and animatronic puppets would have replaced this deluge of special effects generated by computers, as can still be witnessed by Joe Dante's Gremlins or ET from Steven Spielberg, these cocoon works that will soon be resurfacing on our screens as the smoke slowly rises from the cups of hot chocolate and the snow falls peacefully into the night lit by the Christmas lights. Usually neon lights.

11 (Eleven) (via DeviantArt)

« Stranger Things » et la Cinématographie des Néons

Affiche promotionnelle de « Stranger Things » saison 2 (Netflix).

Débutée en 2016, la série Stranger Things est le succès-surprise de la plateforme Netflix. Œuvre oscillant entre le fantastique, la science-fiction et le slice of life – du nom de ces intrigues à tiroir se focalisant sur le quotidien de personnages vivant dans un même lieu à l’instar de Twin Peaks – la série de Matt et Ross Duffer rend hommage à la culture populaire des années 1980 en ressuscitant notamment quelques-unes de ses gloires passées comme Winona Ryder (Beetlejuice), Sean Astin (les Goonies) ou encore Matthew Modine (Full Metal Jacket).

Dans sa deuxième saison, la série se veut plus ambitieuse en terme d’intrigues et de thématiques mais également plus référentielle concernant l’époque de son univers diégétique. Pourtant, depuis bien des années maintenant, de nombreuses œuvres se sont lancé pour défi de ressusciter la décennie 80 à grand renfort d’hommages mais aussi de subterfuges parfois faciles. Comment alors une série comme Stranger Things peut-elle arriver presque après la bataille et se lancer dans une telle entreprise sans nécessairement tomber dans les pièges inhérents à notre époque ?

Les années 1980 vues par les années 2000 et 2010
Ce n’est pas un hasard si on parle de la décennie de la surproduction médiatique, artistique et culturelle américaine comme des « années Reagan ». Le quarantième président des États-Unis, ancien acteur, est le symbole même de cette outrance dont les spectres colorés hantent encore les esprits dès lors que l’on prononce l’expression fatidique d’années 80. Des clips endiablés de Cyndi Lauper aux films d’aventure de Steven Spielberg en passant par les frasques des différentes rockstars de l’époque, ce maelström de culture populaire est un réservoir inépuisable pour quiconque voudrait aujourd’hui représenter ces dix années orgiaques. À l’heure ou Denis Villeneuve offre enfin une suite à Blade Runner et où ceux qui ont fait le lustre de ces années disparaissent progressivement, à l’instar de George Michael ou de David Bowie, une série comme Stranger Things arrive à point nommé, proposant une vision différente des poncifs égrenés ces dernières années dans les différents médias artistiques.

Car il y a années 80 et années 80. Les ingrédients souvent employés pour définir une ambiance « eighties » se réduisent généralement à des éclairages colorés, une musique au synthétiseur, quelques standards de l’époque et des gadgets désuets comme d’énormes téléphones portables, des chaussures qui clignotent ou encore l’inénarrable walkman.

Veut-on représenter les années 80 réelles ? Celles que les films de l’époque nous ont laissé en mémoire ? Ou simplement une version fantasmée de cette décennie vue par les artistes actuels ? Sous-entendu qui n’ont pas connu les années 80 ? Car une œuvre, quelle que soit l’époque dont elle parle, en dit davantage sur celle de sa production. Le court-métrage Kung Fury de David Sandberg en est le parfait exemple: sorti en 2015, ce pastiche des films et animés d’action et de science-fiction des années 80 use à l’extrême de ce que l’on désignera comme la « cinématographie des néons », soit le fait de représenter les années Reagan en abusant de ses motifs, voire de ses clichés. Avec une avalanche d’effets numériques, Kung Fury ne trompe pas et l’effet Canada Dry est inévitable: ça sent les années 80, ça a le goût des années 80, mais ça n’est pas les années 80, simplement une imitation par les années 2010. Cela n’enlève en rien que le film demeure un véritable hommage non pas au cinéma de l’époque mais davantage aux jeux d’arcade comme Streets of Rage ou encore Double Dragon.

D’autres productions audiovisuelles ont su délaisser les effets numériques – véritable anachronisme pour les puristes des 80’s – pour se focaliser sur d’autres éléments. Même si les sempiternels néons se retrouvent presque à chaque séquence d’Atomic Blonde de David Leitch ou du téléfilm « San Junipero » d’Owen Harris, quatrième épisode de la saison 3 de Black Mirror, c’est un autre procédé qui est employé pour que le spectateur se sente aussitôt transporté une trentaine d’années en arrière : la musique.

Si le synthétiseur, instrument-totem de la décennie, est effectivement présent, ce sont bien souvent les pistes additionnelles piochées çà et là dans des compilations diverses qui alimentent l’ambiance générale de ces deux œuvres : « Atomic Blonde » s’ouvre sur « Blue Monday » du groupe new wave New Order et se conclue sur « Under Pressure » de David Bowie et Freddie Mercury, tandis que l’hymne de « San Junipero » est « Heaven Is a Place on Earth » de Belinda Carlisle. Tous ces motifs so 80s travaillent à placer la diégèse de ces œuvres dans un contexte particulier : la chute du mur de Berlin pour le film de Leitch et une utopie nostalgique peuplé de discothèques et de salles d’arcade, des lieux à néons évidemment, pour l’épisode de Black Mirror.

Lumière, couleur, rythmes endiablés: tout confine au voyage spatio-temporel à destination des années Reagan. Pourtant, cette décennie riche en succès culturels de masse peut être représentée de façon bien moins frontale, plus référencée et, finalement bien plus fidèle à la réalité.

Les années 80 comme à l’époque

Black Mirror, saison 3, épisode 4 : « San Junipero » (Netflix).

Pour Stranger Things, les frères Duffer et leurs réalisateurs vont davantage faire appel au processus de happy few, ces références qui résonnent face aux téléspectateurs attentifs se sentant à la fois nostalgiques et récompensés de les reconnaître : un club des loosers rappelant celui du It de Stephen King sorti en 1986, ces gamins partant à l’aventure en vélos comme dans The Goonies de Richard Donner en 1985 ou encore la présence de Sean Astin au casting de la saison 2 pour appuyer un peu plus le lien avec l’œuvre précédente.

La nouvelle série phare de Netflix est un melting pot de références tantôt cachées au sein de la construction narrative ou des thèmes abordés tantôt ouvertement assumées comme en témoigne l’épisode « Trick or Treat Freak » dans lequel les festivités d’Halloween servent de prétexte aux showrunners pour crier haut et fort leur amour de la franchise Ghostbusters, et ce jusque dans le twist final. Stranger Things ne joue pas la carte de la colorimétrie au néon pour s’ancrer dans une réalité fantasmée à force de clichés mais préfère rendre hommage à la culture de l’époque ce qui revient, en d’autres termes, à assumer sa dimension fictionnelle et à se revendiquer comme telle. Après tout, hormis le Blade Runner de Ridley Scott et l’affiche de Cocktail de Roger Donaldson, les néons ne sont pas si présents dans les années 80.

Stranger Things, saison 2, épisode 2 : « Trick or Treat Freak » (Netflix).

À l’instar de la nouvelle adaptation de It par Andrés Muschietti, la série de Matt et Ross Duffer fait la part belle aux images naturalistes, si l’on excepte les séquences purement science-fictionnelles, s’attardant davantage sur le quotidien d’une petite ville américaine en 1984 entre balades à vélo, soirées Donjons et Dragons et dégustation de gaufres Eggo. Tout est dans le détail et non dans la surenchère d’effets visuels comme c’est le cas pour le clip parodique « Through the Night » du groupe électro Grum.

Tout se passe au niveau de la production, dans le choix des accessoires, des costumes et des décors, et non en post-production, à grand renfort de filtres de couleur et de morceaux musicaux choisis selon leur place dans le billboard. Si quelques sons typiques allant de « Time After Time » de Cyndi Lauper à « Every Breath You Take » de The Police viennent sporadiquement faire danser les personnages, tout comme la reprise de « Trust » par Anthrax dans It, Stranger Things délaisse ce réflexe quasiment systématique du juke-box vintage propre aux productions qui ancrent leur diégèse dans une époque prédéfinie. Les deux créateurs avoueront d’ailleurs dans le second épisode de la série making-of « Beyond Stranger Things » que l’essentiel du budget musical de la seconde saison se concentre sur la scène finale du Snowball.

Pourtant, bien que particulièrement naturaliste dans sa volonté de représenter, de ressusciter la culture populaire des années 80, Stranger Things, à l’instar de la nouvelle adaptation de It, ne vas pas au bout de ses intentions. Le numérique est toujours très présent, que ce soit dans les séquences aux abords du portail menant à l’antre du Mind Flayer, les représentations de cette créature ou même du Démogorgon de la première saison. Dans les années 80, des décors de studios et des marionnettes animatroniques auraient remplacé ce déluge d’effet spéciaux générés par ordinateurs, comme peuvent encore en témoigner Gremlins de Joe Dante ou encore E.T. de Steven Spielberg, ces œuvres cocons qui bientôt ressurgiront sur nos écrans alors que la fumée s’élèvera doucement des tasses de chocolat chaud et que la neige tombera paisiblement dans la nuit éclairée par les lumières de Noël. Généralement des néons.

Le duel final de la saison 1 : Eleven face au Démogorgon (Netflix). L’utilisation de stroboscopes, justifiée dans la diégèse par le clignotement des ampoules provoqué en présence du monstre, sert également à masquer les éventuels défauts plastiques de la créature en images de synthèse.

About Today's Contributor:
Guillaume Labrude, Doctorant en études culturelles, Université de Lorraine

This article was originally published on The Conversation. 

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