From The Cultural Cold War: The CIA and the World of Arts and Letters, by Frances Stonor Saunders:
As the “debate” (it was nothing of the sort, of course) wore on, a young [KIKE] American with a pointed beard and looking strangely like Lenin stormed the platform and grabbed the microphone. Speaking in flawless German, he held his position for thirty-five minutes, praising those writers who had had the nerve to speak up against Hitler and exposing similarities between the Nazi regime and the new Communist police state. These were dangerous times. To disrupt the proceedings and queer the pitch of a Communist propaganda exercise was an act of either madness or courage, or both. Melvin Lasky had arrived.
Born in 1920 in the Bronx, Melvin Jonah Lasky grew up in the “looming presence” of his Yiddish-speaking grandfather, a bearded, learned man who nourished the young Lasky with passages from the legends of the Jews. As one of the “best and brightest” graduates of City College of new York, Lasky emerged from its seething ideological debates a staunch anti-Stalinist with a taste for intellectual—and occasionally physical— confrontation. He joined the civil service and worked as a travel guide at the Statue of Liberty before joining the staff of Sol Levitas’s anti-Stalinist magazine, the New Leader. drafted into the service, he became a combat historian with U.S. 7th Army in France and Germany, and was later de-mobbed in Berlin, where he became German correspondent for both the New Leader and the Partisan Review.
A short, stocky man, Lasky was given to drawing his shoulder blades back and pushing out his chest, as if primed for a ght. using his almond-shaped eyes to produce deadly squints, he had acquired from the brusque atmosphere of City College an ill manner which rarely deserted him. In his militant anti-Communism he was, to use an epithet he bestowed on somebody else, “as unmovable as the rock of Gibraltar.” Lupine and grittily determined, Lasky was to become a force to reckon with as he stormed his way through the cultural campaigns of the Cold War. His explosive protest at the east German Writers’ Congress earned him the title “Father of the Cold War in Berlin.” His action even upset the American authorities, who threatened to throw him out. Appalled by the timidity of his superiors, he compared Berlin to “what a frontier-town must have been like in the States in the middle of the 19th century— Indians on the horizon, and you’ve simply got to have that rifle handy or [if] not your scalp is gone. But in those days a frontier-town was full of Indian- fighters. . . . Here very few people have any guts, and if they do they usually don’t know in which direction to point their rifle.”
But Lasky knew the sheriff, and far from being run out of town, he was now taken under the wing of the military governor, General Lucius Clay. To him, Lasky protested that whilst the Soviet lie was traveling around the globe at lightning speed, the truth had yet to get its boots on. He made his case in a passionately argued document submitted on December 7, 1947, to Clay’s office, which called for a radical shake-up in American propaganda. referred to as “The Melvin Lasky Proposal,” this document constituted Lasky’s personal blueprint for staging the cultural Cold War. “High hopes for peace and international unity blinded us to the fact that a concerted political war against the USA was being prepared and executed, and nowhere more vigorously than in Germany,” he claimed. “The same old anti-democratic anti-American formulas on which many European generations have been fed, and which the Nazi propaganda machine under Goebbels brought to a peak, are now being reworked. Viz., the alleged economic selfishness of the USA (Uncle Sam as Shylock); its alleged deep political reaction (a ‘mercenary capitalistic press,’ etc.); its alleged cultural waywardness (the ‘jazz and swing mania,’ radio advertisements, Hollywood ‘inanities,’ ‘cheese-cake and leg-art’); its alleged moral hypocrisy (the negro question, sharecroppers, Okies); etc. etc. . . .”
In extraordinary language, Lasky went on to define the challenge: “The time-honored U.S. formula of ‘Shed light and the people will find their own way’ exaggerates the possibilities in Germany (and in Europe) for an easy conversion. . . . It would be foolish to expect to wean a primitive savage away from his conviction in mysterious jungle-herbs simply by the dissemination of modern scientific medical information. . . . We have not succeeded in combatting the variety of factors—political, psychological, cultural—which work against u.S. foreign policy, and in particular against the success of the Marshall Plan in Europe.” What was needed now, continued Lasky breathlessly, was an “active” truth, a truth bold enough to “enter the contest,” not one which behaved like “an Olympian bystander.” Make no mistake, he warned, the substance of the Cold War was “cultural in range. And it is here that a serious void in the American program has been most exploited by the enemies of American foreign policy. . . . The void . . . is real and grave.”
The “real and grave” void to which Lasky referred was the failure “to win the educated and cultured classes—which, in the long run, provide moral and political leadership in the community” to the American cause. This shortcoming, he argued, could be partly addressed by publishing a new journal, one which would “serve both as a constructive llip to German-European thought” and “as a demonstration that behind the official representatives of American democracy lies a great and progressive culture, with a richness of achievements in the arts, in literature, in philosophy, in all the aspects of culture which unite the free traditions of Europe and America.”
Two days later, Lasky submitted a “Prospectus for the ‘American Review’ ” whose purpose should be “to support the general objectives of U.S. policy in Germany and Europe by illustrating the background of ideas, spiritual activity, literary and intellectual achievement, from which the American democracy takes its inspiration.” The review, he argued, would demonstrate that “America and Americans have achieved mature triumphs in all the spheres of the human spirit common to both the old and the new worlds,” and thereby constitute the first really serious effort in “winning large sections of the German intelligentsia away from Communistic influence.”
The result was Der Monat, a monthly magazine designed to construct an ideological bridge between German and American intellectuals and, as explicitly set forth by Lasky, to ease the passage of American foreign policy interests by supporting “the general objectives of U.S. policy in Germany and Europe.” Set up with General Clay’s backing on October 1, 1948, under Lasky’s editorship, it was printed initially in Munich and airlifted into Berlin aboard the Allied cargo planes on which the city depended during the blockade. Across the years, Der Monat was financed through “confidential funds” from the Marshall Plan, then from the coffers of the Central Intelligence Agency, then with Ford Foundation money, and then again with CIA dollars. For its financing alone, the magazine was absolutely a product—and an exemplar of—American Cold War strategies in the cultural field.
Der Monat was a temple to the belief that an educated elite could steer the postwar world away from its own extinction. This, together with their affiliations with the American occupation government, was what united Lasky, Josselson, and Nabokov. Like Jean Cocteau, who was soon to warn America, “You will not be saved by weaponry, nor by money, but by a thinking minority, because the world is expiring, as it does not think (pense) anymore, but merely spends (dépense),” they understood that the dollars of the Marshall Plan would not be enough: financial assistance had to be supplemented by a concentrated program of cultural warfare. This curious triumvirate—Lasky the political militant, Josselson the former department store buyer, and Nabokov the composer—now stood poised at the cutting edge of what was to become, under their guidance, one of the most ambitious secret operations of the Cold War: the winning over of the Western intelligentsia to the American proposition.
The Secret CIA Campaign to Influence Culture: Covert Cultural Operations (2000)
Frances Stonor Saunders is a great researcher and a degenerate shitlib intellectual traitor.
Here she is making some very cogent observations about our lack of privacy, and spewing bollocks about the “poor poor” nigger and muslim invaders:
In the “Where on Earth are you?” video, Frances Stonor Saunders talks a lot about Stefan Zweig, without mentioning that he was a Kike, and talks a lot about this conman, without mentioning that he’s a Kike:
Paul Ekman (b. 1934) is an American psychologist and professor emeritus at the University of California, San Francisco, who is a pioneer in the study of emotions and their relation to facial expressions. He has created an “atlas of emotions” with more than ten thousand facial expressions, and has gained a reputation as “the best human lie detector in the world”.
At the age of 15, without graduating from high school, Paul Ekman enrolled at the University of Chicago where he completed three years of undergraduate study. During his time in Chicago he was fascinated by group therapy sessions and understanding group dynamics. Notably, his classmates at Chicago included writer [Kike] Susan Sontag, film director [Kike] Mike Nichols, and actress [Kike] Elaine May.
Frances Stonor Saunders’ mother, Julia Camoys Stonor, is the author of Sherman’s Wife: A Wartime Childhood Among the English Aristocracy, a memoir of her mother Jeanne, Lady Camoys, who was fathered by a Spanish aristocrat, and whose lover died in the Spanish Civil War fighting on Franco’s side. Julia Camoys Stonor alleged in the book that her mother was an ardent Nazi sympathizer, and had been the lover of several men including Joachim von Ribbentrop and her own father-in-law. More controversially, she argued that her mother Jeanne had murdered her husband Lord Camoys (who died in 1976) and that Lady Camoys had been murdered by her younger son Honourable Robert Camoys (died 1994).
Wikipedia: “The CIA and the Cultural Cold War”:
An additional revolutionary performance at the festival was Virgil Thomson’s Four Saints, an opera that contained an all-black cast. This performance was selected to counter European criticisms of the treatment of African Americans living in the U.S.
Louis Armstrong and the Cultural Cold War
During the Cold War, Louis Armstrong was promoted around the world as a symbol of US culture, racial progress, and foreign policy. It was during the Jim Crow Era that Armstrong was appointed a Goodwill Jazz Ambassador, and his job entailed representing the American government’s commitment to advance the liberties of African Americans at home, while also working to endorse the social freedom of those abroad.
Armstrong’s visit to Africa’s Gold Coast was hugely successful and attracted magnificent crowds and widespread press coverage. His band’s performance in Accra resulted in public enthusiasm due to what was deemed an “unbiased support for the African course….”.
Although Armstrong was indeed advocating the US foreign policy strategies in Africa, he did not whole-heartedly agree with some of the American government’s decisions in the South. During the 1957 school desegregation crisis in Little Rock, Arkansas, Armstrong made it a point to openly criticize President Eisenhower and Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus. Instigated by Faubus’s decision to use the National Guard to prevent Black students from integrating into Little Rock High School, Armstrong abandoned his ambassadorship periodically, jeopardizing the US’s attempt to use Armstrong to represent America’s racial position abroad, specifically in the Soviet Union.
It was not until Eisenhower sent federal troops to uphold integration that Armstrong reconsidered and went back to his position with the State Department. Although he had deserted his trip to the Soviet Union, he later went on to tour several times for the US government, including a six-month tour African tour in 1960-1961. It was during this time that Armstrong continued to criticize the American government for dragging its feet on the Civil Right issue, highlighting the contradictory nature of the Goodwill Jazz Ambassadors mission. Armstrong and Dave and Iona Brubeck (other Ambassadors at the time) asserted that although they represented the American government, they did not represent all of the same policies.
Ultimately, although American no doubt benefited from the tours by Black artists (including Duke Ellington and Dizzy Gillespie), these ambassadors did not advocate a singularly American identity. They instead encouraged solidarity among Black peoples, and were constantly contesting those policies that did not fully sympathize with the aims of the Civil Rights movement.
[Kike] Hebert Marcuse — OSS agent and [Frankfurt School] revisionist New Left pioneer
[Kike] Gloria Steinem [Christian Bale’s stepmother] — CIA agent and second-wave feminist pioneer