The Economist January 8th 2022 Books & arts 73writer recalls city folk joking about rustic
Serbs “hating us because we knew about
soap and water...and wearing clean socks”.
Another risk factor arises when a large
group fears it is losing status. Ms Walter
lists several that rebelled for this reason.
Sunni Arabs, who dominated Iraq under
Saddam Hussein, were shut out of power
after he was toppled; some went on to
create Islamic State. After the revolution in
Kyiv in 2014, some in Ukraine who consi
dered themselves ethnically Russian
revolted against the new government (with
assistance from Vladimir Putin).
The most disgruntled members of an
aggrieved group may take up arms. At first
they are typically too small in number to
pose a serious threat—but social media can
accelerate the descent into bloodshed. Ms
Walter describes how the voices of Bud
dhist extremists were amplified after Face
book reached Myanmar in 2015. Suddenly,
their warnings of the threat posed by Mus
lim Rohingyas found a much wider audi
ence. The more alarming the posts, the
quicker they went viral. “Just feed them to
the pigs,” said one. The Rohingyas suffered
genocide, and Myanmar is now embroiled
in a complex civil war.
All this is persuasive, and a useful guide
to what is happening today in, say, Ethio
pia, or might happen in Lebanon. But
America? Yes, there are some parallels. The
country is polarised, and cynical racebait
ing politicians have made matters worse.
The most egregious culprits are on the
right, but some on the left have exacerbat
ed the split by alienating white Americans:
urging minorities to think of themselves
first and foremost as members of a racial
group, as some activists do, ultimately en
courages the majority to do likewise. Many
workingclass whites feel a loss of status,
and their grievances have been stoked on
social media. There is a ruralurban divide:
some educated citydwellers disdain their
rustic compatriots, who keenly resent it.
And yes, America has small but well
armed militia groups who talk of violent
revolution and occasionally kill people. If
Mr Trump were to return to office, more
over, he would surely degrade American
democracy further. Arguably the most im
portant thing President Joe Biden and the
Democrats can do for their country is to
keep hold of the White House. Amazingly,
given the quality of their likely opponent,
the polls say they might lose it.
These are all grave problems. But they
do not portend civil conflict. Ms Walter
mentions only fleetingly some of the
reasons why today’s America is not like the
former Yugoslavia or other imploding
states. No country as sophisticated, mod
ern, liberal and democratic as contempo
rary America has ever descended into civil
war. It has exceptionally strong, profes
sional and apolitical armed forces. Its
police,thoughfarfromperfect,upholdthe
law,asdoitscourts.
Aseriesofpoliticallyinspiredterrorist
attacksissadlyplausible.So isabetter
organisedrevoltthantheonestageda year
ago.Butitwouldhavenochanceofsuc
cess—and, on past form, the terrorists
wouldbecaughtandpunished.TheAmer
icanstatecannotbeoverthrownbyseizing
a buildinginWashington.nAlifeinjournalismThe road to
Watergate
T
hisengagingmemoirrecountshow
Carl Bernstein earned his chops as a
young newspaperman in the years before,
with Bob Woodward, he became one of the
world’s most renowned investigative jour
nalists after exposing the Watergate scan
dal. It begins in 1960 when the 16yearold,
a far from diligent student, wangles a part
time job as a copy boy at the Washington
Star, the capital’s evening newspaper. Mr
Bernstein’s father, a publicsector union
leader, pulls strings to get the lad an inter
view. Skills learned at an allgirls’ typing
class, and his own persistence, secure him
the role. Glimpsing the organised mayhem
of the newsroom, he realises that this is the
industry for him.
His picture of life on the Staris both viv
id and elegiac. He captures the frantic
rhythms of a big newspaper and its multiple editions—the first published at 11am,
the last after Wall Street’s close—and the
craft of the men and (still relatively few)
women who made it all happen. When a
police radio discloses that two people have
been electrocuted in a swimming pool, it
takes just 75 minutes for a frontpage sto
ry—based on phonedin copy from a team
choreographed by Sidney Epstein, the
coolly brilliant city editor—to reach the
composing room to be set into type.
Epstein, who dresses like a model from
Esquire, is one in a gallery of tremendous
characters from whom the youngster
learns his trade. At the opposite end of the
spectrum is the paper’s wellconnected po
lice reporter, Ted Crown, who looks and
sounds like a warthog and is no more capa
ble of writing a coherent newspaper article
than of penning a sonnet. A crass bigot,
Crown nevertheless has a kind of integrity
and an “allegiance to the facts and to get
ting the story right”, demonstrated when
he suspects a police chief of framing an
innocent black man.
As Mr Bernstein rises to the dizzying
heights of a “dictationist”, he gets opportu
nities to be the legman for senior
colleagues, phoning in reports on live
events such as civilrights marches and
John F. Kennedy’s inauguration, which
find their way into frontpage stories. As
well as taking copious notes on every
aspect of a newsman’s trade, he begins
building up his list of potential sources.
The feckless schoolboy is becoming a
young man of determined ambition.
The cause that most animates him is
the struggle for civil rights. Peaceful prot
ests in Washington were met with police
and National Guard violence; neighbour
ing Virginia was still governed by Jim Crow
laws. Relatively conservative compared
with the liberal Washington Post, the Star
employed only one black journalist, but its
staff were able to report on the brutalities
of systematic discrimination. The most
important lesson the paper taught Mr
Bernstein was to spare no effort in getting
the facts and then, as accurately as possi
ble, to put them in a context that the reader
could understand.
Despite his devotion to the Star, in the
end his problematic relationship with aca
demia catches up with him. Although now
a respected generalassignment reporter,
he is still nominally a student at the Uni
versity of Maryland, from which he must
graduate or face demotion back to the dic
tationist’s booth. Rating his chances of
graduation as zero, he departs with a col
league, who has been made editor of the
much smaller Elizabeth Daily Journal in
New Jersey. He wins three statewide jour
nalism prizes in a year, including one for
investigative reporting. That is his ticket
back to a bigtime newspaper—the Post,
where Ben Bradlee is about to become theChasing History: A Kid in the Newsroom.
By Carl Bernstein.Henry Holt;
352 pages; $29.99Phoning in the news