The Media’s Centrist Authoritarianism – Folha de S. Paulo, August 10, 1983

by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira

The dignity of the country’s ‘political opening’ lies in neutrality.

In fact, an “opening” is exactly the opposite of a dictatorship. A dictatorship does not involve closing everything off to everyone; it involves shutting certain parts of the political spectrum while keeping the door open for those in power. It doesn’t matter if the opening favors the left and the closure targets the right, or vice versa. A dictator’s ideological preferences do not define what a dictatorship is. What truly defines it is the suppression of dissent. The term “dictatorship” applies equally to governments that silence the right as well as those that silence the left. That’s why you often see expressions like “right-wing dictatorship” and “left-wing dictatorship” repeated in newspapers, on the radio, on television, and in everyday conversation.

By distilling well-known concepts to their simplest form, I seek to demonstrate the clear connection between neutrality and openness. A political opening that is not neutral—no matter how skillfully it is concealed—is essentially a form of dictatorship.

Schools of thought and media outlets that advocate for openness would greatly benefit from always remembering this basic truth.

I say this especially regarding public figures, broadcasters, and newspapers that proudly call themselves “centrist,” because they often violate the very open-minded neutrality they claim to represent. They see themselves as immune to the stigma of authoritarianism just because they adopt the centrist label—almost as if a centrist dictatorship were a contradiction in terms.

A simple analysis reveals this to be false. If a government were to unite against both the right and the left to push its centrist agenda, it would clearly show the main trait of a dictatorship: silencing dissenters.

Let no one assume that the idea of a centrist dictatorship is just a fantasy or simple speculation. To counter that misconception, one need only recall a significant historical example. Considering the state of French domestic politics at the time, Napoleon was essentially a centrist. France was divided between two opposing groups—the Republicans and the Bourbon loyalists. Once in power, the Corsican leader defeated and silenced leaders of both factions and forced his own centrist regime through brute force: a fiercely contradictory mix of revolutionary roughness and royal grandeur, all held together under the symbols of the imperial eagle and military pride. At that moment, this was the only feasible form of centrism—dictatorial centrism.

From an outdated perspective, one might think that what I am saying applies only to the State and its three official branches—the Executive, the Legislative, and the Judicial. But, as I have argued before, today’s State—especially in Brazil—cannot be understood apart from two other, unofficial powers that exert an influence over the res publica no less decisive than that of the formal branches. These two non‑state powers are the Media (the Fourth Branch) and the Episcopate, embodied in the CNBB (the Fifth Branch). The country cannot be said to have fully emerged from dictatorship so long as vestiges of authoritarianism persist within the Fourth and Fifth Branches. And persist they do. Paradoxically, it was precisely these two branches that did the most to bring about the so‑called “opening,” and they are the very ones who now express the greatest indignation at any lingering traces of authoritarianism within the three official branches of government.

Unless the Media and the CNBB—each in its own sphere and according to its responsibilities—consistently uphold a noble impartiality, Brazil’s political opening will remain tarnished, like a garment marked by stains and tears.

Let me give one example. During a press conference at Santos Dumont Airport held by French Foreign Minister Claude Cheysson during his recent visit to Brazil, a reporter with Boa Imprensa News Agency (Abim) asked him:

“One of the main principles of the platform that brought the French Socialist Party to power states: ‘There cannot be a socialist project for France alone. The dilemma ‘freedom or servitude,’ ‘socialism or barbarism,’ goes beyond our country’s borders.” This perspective aligns with the French government’s many gestures of support for Sandinista Nicaragua since it gained power.

“Many sectors of Brazilian public opinion view this aspect of the socialist project—and of French policy toward communist Nicaragua—with deep bewilderment. To them, this “missionary” socialist ideology seems to imply a universal endorsement of class struggle and an extension of the French government’s actions far beyond its country’s borders.

“A clear statement on this matter would greatly help create a positive atmosphere for your current visit and President Mitterrand’s scheduled visit. Would you please do it?”

Out of courtesy, the Abim reporter, Mr. Heitor Takahashi, asked his question through a young Frenchman, Mr. Guillaume Babinet, who acted as his interpreter.

In this matter, the reader will find nothing that departs from the best journalistic standards. An interviewer may—and indeed must—question the interviewee on any subject that the public, or any segment of it, needs to understand to form an accurate picture of his views, his agenda, and his public actions. The interviewee’s private life, by contrast, generally lies outside this scope.

A question may well presuppose a disagreement between interviewer and interviewee. To deny the legitimacy of such disagreement would be to deny any opposition journalist the right to pose courteous but uncomfortable questions to those in power—an attitude that would invert the very notion of openness and slide instead toward genuine media authoritarianism.

In this light, I offer my criticism of a recent report published by one of the country’s most prestigious newspapers, the Jornal do Brasil. We will explore this further in the next article.