Freedom of Press to Censure Government
“The government’s power to censor the press was abolished so that the press would remain forever free to censure the government.... The press was protected so that it could bare the secrets of the government and inform the people.”
—‑U.S. Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black, New York Times Co. v. United States (6/30/71)
Journalism is supposed to hold power to account. That’s the principle implicit in the U.S. Constitution’s singling out a free press for protection.
If that principle were respected, the Washington Post’s admission (2/6/13) that it and “several news organizations” made a deal with the White House to withhold the news that the U.S. has a drone base in Saudi Arabia would have been a red flag, triggering widespread discussion of media ethics.
But these deals have become so commonplace that the story generated less concern among journalists than did the denial of press access to a recent presidential golf outing. The latter outrage resulted in a sternly worded letter of protest from the White House press corps (Huffington Post, 2/18/13).
As the Washington Post explained, it was convinced to sit on the drone base story by administration concerns that exposing the facility would undermine operations against an Al-Qaeda affiliate regarded as the network’s most potent threat to the United States, as well as potentially damage counter-terrorism collaboration with Saudi Arabia.
Al-Qaeda’s leadership has historically had close ties to the Saudi elite (Wall Street Journal, 3/18/03)—so the existence of the drone base was likely no secret to them. As for the Saudis, they might well be less willing to collaborate with the U.S. if their collaboration became public knowledge. But is protecting governments from the impact of public opinion really the job of journalism?
Withholding important news over supposed national security concerns is nothing new. And in many cases, no official request is even needed—the decision-makers seem to have internalized the notion that
—‑U.S. Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black, New York Times Co. v. United States (6/30/71)
Journalism is supposed to hold power to account. That’s the principle implicit in the U.S. Constitution’s singling out a free press for protection.
If that principle were respected, the Washington Post’s admission (2/6/13) that it and “several news organizations” made a deal with the White House to withhold the news that the U.S. has a drone base in Saudi Arabia would have been a red flag, triggering widespread discussion of media ethics.
But these deals have become so commonplace that the story generated less concern among journalists than did the denial of press access to a recent presidential golf outing. The latter outrage resulted in a sternly worded letter of protest from the White House press corps (Huffington Post, 2/18/13).
As the Washington Post explained, it was convinced to sit on the drone base story by administration concerns that exposing the facility would undermine operations against an Al-Qaeda affiliate regarded as the network’s most potent threat to the United States, as well as potentially damage counter-terrorism collaboration with Saudi Arabia.
Al-Qaeda’s leadership has historically had close ties to the Saudi elite (Wall Street Journal, 3/18/03)—so the existence of the drone base was likely no secret to them. As for the Saudis, they might well be less willing to collaborate with the U.S. if their collaboration became public knowledge. But is protecting governments from the impact of public opinion really the job of journalism?
Withholding important news over supposed national security concerns is nothing new. And in many cases, no official request is even needed—the decision-makers seem to have internalized the notion that