Psychological Warfare. Paul Myron Anthony Linebarger
non-committed, psychological warfare has to avoid making blunders. In World War II we could not say that we were against one-party states, because our largest ally (Russia) was a one-party state. We could not attack the ruin of free enterprise by the Japanese and German governments since socialism existed on the Allied side too. We could not bring up the racial issue, because our own national composition rendered us vulnerable to racial politics at home. There was a huge catalog of Don'ts (usually not written down but left to individual judgment) in every propaganda office. Whenever we violated them, we paid the price in adverse opinion.
Promises.
Finally, psychological warfare must avoid promises that may not be kept. The Americans during World War II never promised much as a government, but individual American agents promised all sorts of things which could not be delivered. We promised the Dutch their homeland and empire by implication; we promised the Indonesians self-government, also by implication; and we promised everybody, including the Japanese, access to Indonesian raw materials. It is highly probable that individual Americans, off-the-record, stated that they "expected," "hoped," or "thought" that their government would fulfill each of these promises. The three are not compatible, especially the first and second. The New York banker, James Warburg, has written a book, Unwritten Treaty, pointing out that the United States promised just about everything to everybody during the war (he was in OWI and he ought to know), and that it is going to take a generous, wise, and intelligent foreign policy to fulfill—even in part—the promises which we made. The promises of the loser are forgotten; he can write them off and start international policies with a clean slate. But the promises of the victor remain, and have to be carried out or else repudiated.
The psychological warfare officer should not make promises to persons in occupied territory, to friendly guerrillas, to underground movements, or to enemy troops when those promises are not backed up by word-for-word quotations from the head of his government or someone of Cabinet rank. The promises may not conform with promises which other psychological warfare officers are making to other groups. (In China, some American officers told the Chinese Communists that the Chinese Communists were wonderful people, and would be sure to get American material aid and political sympathy against Chiang Kai-shek. At the same time, other American officers told the Chinese government people that the United States did not propose to short-circuit recognition of the Chinese government, or to interfere in internal Chinese affairs. The two sets of Chinese heard about the American promises and, for a while, could not decide whether Americans were fools or liars. Much the same sort of thing happened in our dealings with French, Serbs, and Poles.) It is a poor piece of work for a combat officer to promise elections , liberties, labor rights, or even food to people in his path, unless the rear echelon people will be able to deliver the goods when they come up. And it is an irresponsible radio or leaflet man who makes promises without finding out whether his government is in a position, in relation to the political situation, to back up the promises one way or other. His nation itself will be called a liar if he slips up.
Security Limitations.
Another serious set of limitations arises from security problems.
The very conduct of psychological warfare encroaches upon perfectionist plans for security. Security is designed to keep useful information from reaching the enemy; propaganda operations are designed to get information to him. Security is designed to keep the enemy from knowing true figures; but propaganda must have a lot of good, current, true information if it is to be believed. Security demands that military and naval news be withheld until the extent of the enemy's knowledge is known; propaganda is designed to tell the enemy the news faster than his own sources tell him, thus discrediting enemy news. Security demands that dubious persons, intimately associated with the enemy, be kept away from communications facilities; propaganda officers have to keep an eye open for people who speak the enemy language well, who can address the enemy sympathetically and get his attention, who have a keen appreciation of the enemy culture.
Often, it is plain, psychological warfare and security officers get in each other's way. This conflict was lessened by American censorship organization during World War II. The United States Office of Censorship under Byron Price achieved a distinguished record of smooth, reasonable, and modest operation. It took an adult view of the intelligence of the American public, and permitted bad news to reach the public except when the Services or the White House intervened. Much of the story of this office is told in Theodore Koop's exciting book, Weapon of Silence,20 which makes it plain that censorship sought to avoid developing negative psychological warfare campaigns on its own initiative.
The usual wartime security procedures apply with special force to psychological warfare operations. Civilian employees who are qualified as political experts, as writers, or as propaganda analysts are often well-educated and artistic. They are apt to value classified information highly for the pleasure which they can derive by violating security—that is, by showing "people they can trust" how much they are "in on" certain operations. The temptation to show off is almost irresistible. (The vice is not unknown even in military echelons.) An atmosphere of excessive security easily degenerates into melodrama, bringing out in many individuals a silly zest for displaying to others how much TOP SECRET information they possess. Where military and civilian personnel work together, this human weakness is stimulated by rivalry. Even among the Germans in World War II, propaganda groups were easily infected by an atmosphere of gossip and intrigue.
Security Procedures.
Security procedures for psychological warfare involve the usual common-sense precautions which apply to all operations, and which may be summarized in the following rules:
(1) Classification should be kept at an absolute minimum. No information should be classified unless there are genuinely strong reasons for supposing that it would benefit the enemy. Classification and declassification should be the responsibility of designated officers trained for the task. (In World War II, many American civilians classified information recklessly, with the result that all classification became a subject of disrespect. The author once found a highly classified inter-Allied plan in the hands of an elderly woman stenographer in Washington, who safeguarded the information by leaving the papers in a desk drawer which had no pull. The drawer had to be opened with a nail file and that fact comprised the "security.")
(2) Security should apply, generally speaking, to units as a whole, taking working units up to the limit of face-to-face working acquaintance as a base. It is unsound procedure to give certain individuals a higher level of information than others, since the privileged individuals will be tempted to display their inside knowledge, and the underprivileged individuals will be goaded by unwholesome, resentful, and acute curiosity. Either the entire unit should be given the information, or denied it.
(3) Security should not be applied for editorial purposes. Censorship is a separate function. Improper security procedures, vesting arbitrary powers in stated officers, may tempt the security officer to express his personal literary, artistic, or political preferences under the guise of maintaining security. The inevitable consequence is the breakdown of both security and of procedure. Censorship should be applied in conformity with national or theater censorship policies. Review and estimate of radio or leaflet output is another function.
(4) Security for printed materials is easy enough to maintain. The leaflets can be sent to the G-2 to check, or wherever else security functions may be vested. Radio security is another problem. Experience in World War II indicates that spot news cannot wait for routine security, but must be processed through. Two types of control, supplementing one another, are desirable:
Security liaison on a 24-hour basis should be available to the radio operatives for the rapid processing of military news. The security duty officer should be indoctrinated with an attitude of cooperativeness, based on an understanding of the value of propaganda, and should conceive it as his mission to explain the needs of radio propaganda to his superiors, rather than taking the attitude of being superior to the radio operatives. There is a sound psychological reason for this. The presence of a sympathetic security officer will increase cooperativeness on the part of the propaganda broadcaster. An unsympathetic one will merely maintain