Unexpected thoughts reading Edward R. Murrow

 

I had an interesting find at Capitol Hill Books a couple months ago, This is London by Edward R. Murrow.  It's a set of transcriptions of his radio broadcasts from, um, London in the early days of the Second World War.  His broadcasts created a picture of the war in Britain for listeners to the US.  The tales of the commonplace courage and fortitude of the British people in the face of German bombing helped to build sympathy among Americans prone to isolationism for the fight against Fascism in Europe that the United States would eventually join.

It's hard in the US of 2026 to appreciate the place Edward R. Murrow had in American journalism and culture in the middle of the twentieth century.  Today people watch, listen to, and even sometimes read journalism or what passes for it of their own curated taste.  They have splintered choices of right-wing, left-wing, and satiric voices on multiple mediums to confirm their world view and satisfy their biases.  But a few decades ago, the choices were not as explicitly curated.

Edward R. Murrow, from the forties through the fifties, was among the most respected journalists in the English language, first in radio and later in television.  His baritone voice gave a subtle gravitas to stories of both individual courage such as that displayed by the anonymous men fighting the fires of London as well as individual infamy like that embodied in the baseless persecutions by Senator Joseph McCarthy.  His work at CBS News was the inspiration for a couple generations of journalists who would follow in his footsteps at the network.

It would be easy to compare the esteemed reputation of CBS News of Murrow's time to the soiled reputation it carries today.  To be honest, apart from my curiosity about how he reported the early days of the Second World War, my selection of the book was a bit of a knee-jerk response of "Let's see what broadcast journalism used to be" in comparison to what it is today.  The writing (and what people heard 86 years ago) would be the envy of any novelist.  A sample from September 13, 1940, while the Germans were in the midst of a series of bombings of London:

The anti-aircraft fire has been fierce but sometimes there have been periods of twenty minutes when London has been silent.  Then the big red buses would start up and move on till the guns started working again.  That silence is almost hard to bear.  One becomes accustomed to rattling windows and the distant sound of bombs and then there comes a silence that can be felt.  You know the sound will return--you wait, and then it starts again.  That waiting is bad.  It gives you a chance to imagine things.  I have been walking tonight--there is a full moon, and the dirty-gray buildings appear white.  The stars, the empty windows, are hidden.  It's a beautiful and lonesome city where men and women and children are trying to snatch a few hours' sleep underground.

Today a newscaster, podcaster, or tik-toker attempts to portray the most mundane story or non-story with the heavy importance of a Hiroshima.  The novelist's or poet's eye for telling detail is absent.  It's easy to bemoan the decline and dumbing down of journalism--Murrow's description of one evening's bombing includes the following:  "Once I saw Damnation of Faust presented in the open air in Salzburg.  London reminds me of that night, only the stage is so much larger."  I can't imagine a journalist seeing or admitting to having seen the monumental musical work by Hector Berlioz in a report today.

But as I read the book now, a couple other things came to mind.  The first thing was the creation of identity and legend.  The story of Britain's lonely defiance of Germany even as London burned became part of Britain's identity.  Recent British movies about the war chronicle the time of Britain alone yet defiant.  Dunkirk, about the evacuation of British troops from Europe (though half those evacuated were French, that is not shown in the movie), Blitz, about people enduring the bombing of London, and Darkest Hour, about Churchill's leading the British government to defy Nazi Germany in the spring of 1940 rather than negotiate with the then victorious Germans.  

Along with photos and newsreels of the time, Murrow's stirring descriptions of the people's positive spirit in spite of enduring sometimes nightly bombing raids are part of the recorded history of the time.  History of course becomes legend, as legend has a power to stir one's spirit long beyond that of mere history.  History would have to recognize the contributions of Britain's eventual allies--the far greater sacrifice of the people of the Soviet Union and the material and military support of the United States--in the defeat of Germany.  Legend does not need such inconvenient details and can endure while history is forgotten.  Thus a large portion of the voters who supported leaving the European Union in 2016 was made up of older people who grew up either during or in the aftermath of the Second World War, when it appeared Britain could go it alone, no matter what.  Britain's struggles after Brexit has proven the fallacy of the legend.

The other thing that came to mind as I read the descriptions of anonymous bombing from the air is recent history, namely that of Ukraine and Iran.  Ukraine has endured four years of bombing by its nominally more powerful foe, Putin's Russia.  From what I read, though weary of war, the people and government of Ukraine are, like Britain in 1940, far from defeated.  I wonder if Murrow's words can be echoed by journalists in Kyiv after drone and ballistic missile strikes on apartments and churches in their city as part of the Russian "special military operation."

Though it is painful to join the company of Nazi Germany and Putin's Russia, the US and Israel's bombing of Iran no doubt provides fodder for a Farsi-speaking Murrow as he or she walks through the rubble of Tehran.  Though the US and Israel are proud of their modern expensive weaponry, of it's accuracy, I wonder how a modern Iranian Murrow would describe a school destroyed, people hiding in their homes from bombing in the American "short excursion."  Like Germany in 1940 and Russia in 2022, the United States and Israel are more powerful than their foe if one looks at a list of weapons available and their capabilities.  Though all were able to exact painful destruction and loss, the blitz, special military option, and short excursion, like all wars, have not proceeded as anticipated.

The philosopher George Santayana is known mostly for his comment about history: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."  The problem with reading history is noting its unfortunate echos in the present.  Reading Murrow's This is London is a feast of language and history.  It fosters a nostalgia for a time when journalists could evoke events rather than pass on spin.  It memorializes a generation whose spirit in some ways justifies the legend created about it.  And it helps put current events in context, that often those who suffer will eventually prevail.