I suspect that many of my readers are not old enough to remember the Cold War, that epic but metaphorical war between the forces of Good (the U.S., of course) and the forces of Evil (that would be the U.S.S.R.).

One of the sure signs of the malevolence of the Soviet regime was that they did not have a free press; it was controlled by the government. Pravda (meaning "truth") was the official paper of the Communist Party, and Izvestia (meaning "news") was the official organ of the government. Any story that appeared in them was "propaganda" and could be dismissed out of hand, which saved the American public from the confusion that can arise when people are exposed to more than one viewpoint.

It was the work of Sovietologists to pour over every word and photo to try to glimpse the truth behind the headlines. If a Soviet official didn't appear in a lineup with other Kremlin officials, it was speculated that he'd been "purged." If a Soviet minister appeared but occupied a different seat in relation to the prime minister, he was assumed to have been either promoted or demoted depending upon the distance between the seats. Soviet attitudes toward foreign leaders were reflected by the tone of the news reports and by the accompanying photos.

This sort of analytical work continues today, only now we apply it to the NY Times, the semiofficial organ of the Republican Party, and the Washington Post, which fills that role for the government. As with the Soviets, Party and government are really one and the same, so the roles of the two newspapers are largely interchangeable. (Views of the Far Right faction of the Party and government are reliably presented by the Washington Times.)

With that in mind, I bring you an example from one of those organs of propaganda that is almost embarrassing in its lack of subtlety.

This was a headline in yesterday's NY Times: Venezuelan Strongman's New Gig: National Disc Jockey

Let's enquire first about the meaning of "strongman." Wikipedia has this—

A strongman is a political leader who rules by force and runs an authoritarian regime. The term is often used interchangeably with "dictator."

A strongman is not necessarily always a formal Head of State, however. Sometimes the term is used to describe a military or political figure who exercises far more influence over the government than is constitutionally allowed. General Manuel Noriega, for example, was often dubbed the "Strongman of Panama" for the enormous amount of political power he exercised over Panama, despite the fact that he was not the formal president of the state.

Jumping Jehosaphat! They must be referring to Hugo Chávez, the twice-elected President of Venezuela, who won the second election by better than 59% of the vote after an attempt to oust him in a U.S.-supported right-wing coup.

Let's give the headline writer the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he didn't mean to call Chávez a dictator at all. Maybe he was trying to draw attention to the strength of Chávez' electoral mandate. Maybe he meant to draw a contrast with President Bush, who—even if you wildly assume him to be legitimately elected—could never be referred to as a "strongman" after receiving a minority of the popular vote in his first election and a likely minority in the second. You think?

Well, reporter Jose Forero, the NY Times man in Latin America, probably had nothing to do with the headline, so the article itself should clarify matters. It begins—

Deep in Venezuela's new, cumbersome1 Social Responsibility Law is an item that requires radio stations to play more - much more - Venezuelan music. The idea, the fiercely nationalist government says, is to promote Venezuelan culture over foreign culture, particularly American rock, which has dominated radio airplay for years.

The problem for Mr. Forero, as he attempts to represent the views of the Bush administration, is that the law is quite popular among Venezuelan musicians, who suddenly are having an opportunity to be heard again—

If the measure seems obscure,2 its effects have not been. From the techno-pop wizards of cosmopolitan Caracas to the folksy crooners of this cattle town, Venezuelan musicians say they are reaping benefits from President Hugo Chávez's efforts to regulate culture.3

For Huáscar Barradas, 40, a flute-playing magician who mixes the traditional with pop, the law has ensured that he is now booked solid at concert halls across the country. Simon Diaz, 77, a playful troubadour who enjoys international fame, is pleased that the songs he popularized decades ago are now on the airwaves once more. And halfway across the country from Caracas's eclectic music scene, Anselmo López, 71, with his traditional white liqui-liqui suit and four-string bandola, says he is comforted to know that some of his old forgotten songs are now being heard again.
....

Carlos Tapia, another Barinas resident and one of Venezuela's best-known harpists, said he welcomed the law because his brand of music had in recent years received little notice, as radio stations turned to rock, rap and pop. "The music situation was very poor," he said. "It was just hard to get heard."

But now, big-name musicians who do traditional music, from Scarlett Linares to Reynaldo Armas, have contracted him for concerts and recordings. "There is much more work than before," he said, explaining how he constantly travels Venezuela's winding roads to get to concerts.
....

Franklin Cacique, a keyboardist with Saladillo de Aguierre, a famed 16-man group that performs the folkloric gaitas of the northwest, said the law had spawned fresh, new music as bands scramble to take advantage.

"It's leading to the creation of more imaginative music, as musicians try to interpret Venezuelan music in different ways," he said. "People have awakened and they want to hear this music."

Now it's time for some balance. Here are the problems that Mr. Forero has been able to find—

1. "Not everyone is pleased."

2. Radio stations don't like any conditions put on their use of the public airwaves—4

For radio stations, it has been a headache, handled grudgingly but expeditiously by some and with an air of rebellion by others, like Caracas's 92.9 FM, which responded by playing vulgar folkloric music, much to the government's distaste....

3. Those musicians who are benefitting most are those who were already enjoying some measure of success—

Those who are making the most of the law are the few musicians who, in recent years, had already found success. Those musicians, mostly based in Caracas, have producers and press agents, and they have momentum and enterprise, having recorded in recent years.

There's a strange irony at work here. President Chávez is called a dictator for instituting a law that prevents radio stations from playing 24-hour, non-stop rock, rap and pop. Yet isn't that the very music our military uses in its psychological warfare operations to drive the enemy crazy?