“Post-truth” was the Oxford English Dictionary’s word of the year in 2016. It was meant to put a name to what felt like a new and alarming trend in political discourse taking hold in the West.[1] Facts seemed to suddenly be deprived of their former importance. Conspiracy theories and “alternative facts” became mainstream everywhere from online chat rooms to the White House press room. Brexit and Trump’s win in the 2016 election, complete with the lies, divisive social-media campaigns, and populist impulses that brought them into being, seemed to signal a paradigm shift in British and American politics. The era of truth had given way to one of post-truth. In the chaos and frenzy of 2016, it felt like a surreal shock that no one could have seen coming. In hindsight, it is clear that the seeds of the turn to post-truth had been planted long before 2016, and they had already begun to sprout in other parts of the world.

Post-Truth in Intellectual History

Marci Shore, an Associate Professor of History at Yale University, argues that this pivot towards post-truth, this rejection of the power and even existence of truth itself, actually has its roots in the Western epistemological tradition.

Prior to the enlightenment and the beginning of “modernity,” God had served as the answer to the ultimate epistemological question of “how do I know what is true?” Things were true because God said it was so or because the existence of God meant that it must be so, and that was that. But as Enlightenment thinkers began to search for a rational or scientific answer to the epistemological question, they were stymied again and again, or their conclusions were found to be insufficient in one way or another. Eventually, Western epistemology began to give up on finding an answer, and thus postmodernity began. As Professor Shore explains, “If modernity was the attempt to replace God, postmodernity began when we gave up on replacing God, when we accepted that there was neither a God nor a viable surrogate.”[2] Yet if God could not guarantee the existence of objective truth, and we could not find any viable replacement, any other mechanism by which we could be sure that what we perceived to be real was real or even that there was some objective truth to pursue, what was there to support the concept of objective truth? Thinkers of the postmodern tradition, such as deconstructionist Jacques Derrida, thoroughly played out the implications of this transition. As historian Tony Judt wrote, postmodern theory rejected “not just old certainties but the very possibility of certainty itself.”[3]

From a present-day perspective, undercutting the idea of truth would clearly work to the advantage of authoritarian leaders, but this was not always the case. At the time of their conception, these post-modern ideas were seen as direct rejection of the uncompromising claims to truth by totalitarian regimes. The postmodern denial of any claim to absolute truth was thus seen as a crucial defense against the totalitarian ideologies of the 20^th century. As Professor Shore explains, “A refusal of all claims to absolute truth was meant to protect us from totalitarian terror. Deconstruction, Derrida insisted, had always represented ‘the least necessary condition for identifying and combating the totalitarian risk.’”[4] So how, then, could a system of thought that had once so perfectly run against totalitarianism now come to support it? The answer is that the nature of propaganda and political lies changed to adapt to the postmodern world, and it was Putin’s Russia that led this charge.

The Postmodern Political Lie

Hannah Arendt, one of the most respected political philosophers of all time, argued that the defining characteristic of the modern political lie of the 20^th century, most prominently those Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, though also the totalitarian communist states of Eastern Europe, was how it sought to not just change reality, but entirely supplant it. These modern political lies did not just hide secrets but could “deal efficiently with things that are not secrets at all but are known to practically everybody.”[5] As Arendt writes, they “require a complete rearrangement of the whole factual texture–the making of another reality, as it were, into which they will fit without seam, crack, or fissure, exactly as the facts fitted into their own original context.”[6] Thus, the modern political lies of the 20^th century sought to create large, overarching meta-narratives that circumscribed the sum total of what was true in the societies that they controlled. Under this scheme, with this kind of lie as the enemy, it is clear how an ideology that attacked claims to absolute truth would be useful. Modern propagandists, however, have given up on this old model and invented something newer and far more effective. Rather than seeking to create a grand meta-narrative that can explain everything, modern authoritarians seek to destroy the concept of truth itself, making it impossible to explain anything, and possible to deny everything.

Peter Pomerantsev, a British journalist born in Soviet Ukraine, began his career as a television producer in Russia but has since published two books explaining the rise of this new model of propaganda in the era of post-truth. In his second book, This is not Propaganda: Adventures in the War Against Reality, he explains how one innovation of the modern propagandists uses the sheer productivity and communicative powers of the internet to their advantage. As Camille Francois, a scholar of cyber-warfare at Harvard University, explains, in the age of Facebook and Twitter, it is almost impossible for authoritarian regimes to prevent the spread of information, so rather than trying to suppress dissenters from spreading facts that could undermine the regime, regimes simply drown them out. This can be accomplished in a couple of ways. One method, which Pomerantsev explains, is called “white jamming.” The idea is to “surround audiences with so much cynicism about anybody’s motives, persuade them that behind every seemingly benign motivation is a nefarious, if impossible-to-prove, plot, that they lose faith in the possibility of an alternative.” Spreading conspiracy theories plays an important role in this strategy.[7] In another tactic, Francois explains that “social media mobs and cyber-militias harassed, smeared and intimidated dissenting voices into silence, or undermined their reputation so that no one would listen to them.”[8] Ultimately, the goal behind both of these tactics, and many more that modern propagandists employ, is to undermine public faith in the truth.

Pomerantsev’s first book, Nothing is True and Everything is Possible, shows the extent to which these tactics have already been at work in Russia, and the widespread erosion of truth that has followed. He describes a widespread cynicism, both among his coworkers in the TV industry and in the rest of the country at large. “My Moscow peers,” he writes, “are filled with a sense that they are both cynical and enlightened.”[9] They decry claims to truth in every form, whether they are the appeals to democracy of Soviet-era dissidents or modern Western claims to “human rights” and “freedom.” “Everything is PR,” they claim.[10]

This attitude has real consequences. The belief that everything is equally untrue leads to devastating false equivalences. Pomerantsev’s coworkers, for instance, argue that Britain is at least as corrupt and dishonest as Russia, an allegation that is not only completely untrue but releases both Putin and the British government from any accountability.[11] So too does entertaining the notion of “alternative facts.” The very idea that there can be “alternative facts” contradicts the central idea of what a fact is, that it is an objective, and thus indisputable, statement about what has happened. It is less important that leaders like Putin and Trump control the truth and more important that they degrade it, abuse it so thoroughly that people give up any hope of finding the real truth, or even that it exists at all. When this happens, these leaders can escape accountability, and thus gain near-complete power.

In Pomerantsev’s second book, This is not Propaganda: Adventures in the War Against Reality, he extends his analysis beyond Russia to the rest of the world. Troublingly, he finds these same strategies in use from the Philipines, to Mexico, to Estonia.[12] This attack on truth has quickly become a global phenomenon and will require an equally global solution.

Solutions and Rebuttals

Not everyone agrees that this era of post-truth is novel. Yuval Noah Harari, the bestselling author of books such as Sapiens and 21 Lessons for the 21^st Century, argues that humans have always lived in an era of post-truth. Since the dawn of history, communities have used myths such as religions, fables, and the value of money to cooperate, and governments have always molded the truth to suit their means. The phrase “post-truth” is misleading, as there has never really been an age of “truth.”[13] Yet while the myths that Harari describes were not necessarily factually based, they still had some degree of consistency. Christianity, for instance, maintained the same basic set of principles for thousands of years. Yet in our current age of post-truth, leaders like Putin do not want to create new myths for the unperceiving to follow. Instead, they want to destroy truth and fiction alike. Their goal is to make people question not only which myth might be real, but doubt that anything ever could be real. If Harari’s thesis that these myths are what have allowed humans to cooperate for millennia is correct, then an attack on the very concept of truth or myth itself is not a continuation of a previous pattern but a destruction of the system itself.

Harari’s analysis does lead to an important question, however, about the potential solution to this crisis of truth. If humans have never really lived in a true age of truth, where do we go from here? Surely bringing God back to explain everything is not an attractive option, nor is resulting to any number of old and outdated traditions. But, if we have destroyed all of our most important myths, what can we lean on next? It seems that the era of post-truth will endure until we can find something new and truly revolutionary to answer the epistemological question. Finding this answer and solving the problem of propaganda in the age of post-truth will be one of the defining challenges of our generation, and the stakes could not be higher. The Kremlin’s experiments to date have already led to great divisions in the US over election security and a full-fledged and deadly war in Ukraine. The problem is here and demands a solution.

References

[1] “‘Post-Truth’ Declared Word of the Year by Oxford Dictionaries,” BBC News, November 16, 2016, sec. UK, https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-37995600.

[2] Marci Shore, “A Pre-History of Post-Truth,” Public Seminar, September 1, 2017, https://publicseminar.org/2017/09/a-pre-history-of-post-truth/.

[3] Shore.

[4] Shore.

[5] Hannah Arendt, “Truth and Politics,” in Between Past and Future (New York: Penguin Books, 2006), 223–59.

[6] Arendt.

[7] Peter Pomerantsev, This Is Not Propaganda: Adventures in the War Against Reality (New York: PublicAffairs, 2019).

[8] Pomerantsev.

[9] Peter Pomerantsev, Nothing Is True and Everything Is Possible: The Surreal Heart of the New Russia (New York: PublicAffairs, 2014).

[10] Pomerantsev.

[11] Pomerantsev.

[12] Pomerantsev, This Is Not Propaganda: Adventures in the War Against Reality.

[13] “Yuval Noah Harari Extract: ‘Humans Have Always Lived in the Age of Post-Truth. We’re a Post-Truth Species,’” the Guardian, August 5, 2018, http://www.theguardian.com/culture/2018/aug/05/yuval-noah-harari-extract-fake-news-sapiens-homo-deus.

The upcoming anniversary of the Korean War is a reminder of the United States’ first military loss after 1945. Although the conflict ended with the Korean Armistice Agreement, the resulting stalemate dashed any U.S. hopes for completely containing communism’s spread and provided ample propaganda material for both North Korea and China. Merely preventing the United States from establishing a Western-friendly government for the entire Korean peninsula was presented as a success; a compelling story of how a small renegade nation held the world’s most powerful country at bay. 

But despite governmental propaganda, the war’s outcome marked an ominous turning point for the North Korean regime. While prior to the start of conflict the North Korean economy was clearly overtaking the South due to the Japanese colonial regime’s industrialization, afterwards South Korea grew rapidly and did not stray from its economic trajectory. North Korea would suffer greatly in subsequent years, with frequent food crises and a consistently low standard of living. Moreover, Kim Il-Sung’s greatest goal — reunifying the Korean peninsula under his government — would become nearly impossible. 

These consequences should not have surprised the North Korean government, considering South Korea’s superiority in military numbers and the already-faltering status of key economic policies at the time. Yet Kim chose to ignore the advice of North Korea’s greatest benefactor and source of foreign aid —  the Soviet Union — in favor of forcibly reunifying the peninsula (although the North Korean government continues to deny that they launched the first attack). Syngman Rhee likewise brought up forceful reunification continuously with the United States, only to have the latter reject any such proposals. Both leaders sought conflict with the other, seemingly with great confidence, while the great powers supporting them voiced strong opposition to the potentially larger-scale conflict that could occur. 

The above description of the war’s beginning and end implies two important questions: Why did Kim Il-Sung decide to cross the 38th parallel after multiple warnings against it? Why does the Korean War continue to have an important role in North Korean propaganda if it ended in failure? Although there are several plausible explanations, the perspective below is grounded in the idea that the Korean War was essential to North Korean nation-building. 

WAR MADE THE STATE AND THE NATION 

Charles Tilly’s famous claim that war makes states is extended by Nicholas Sambanis to also include nations in “Nation-Building through War.” Sambanis argues that war-making is connected to a country’s domestic conflicts and social identification; that a conflict can increase a state’s international status and thus prompt individuals in that state to increasingly identify with the nation. Leaders engage in conflicts they would not ordinarily because this national identification serves to reduce internal conflicts and increase a state’s capacity for future war-making. 

Sambanis’s theory incorporates social psychological effects typically absent in neorealist studies of war. But this model is well-suited for the Korean War, where the issue at stake concerned national unification. Kim Il-Sung frequently promised the North’s public that reunification was imminent and that his regime was the only legitimate power on the peninsula. His ascension to the North’s supreme leader also hinged on his reputation as an Anti-Japanese guerrilla fighter, another link between political power and nationalism in the state. 

Moreover, the prospect of reunification served to distract from domestic problems in the country. North Korea was already beginning to face economic difficulties that threatened the state’s control over society, in addition to rifts within the leadership. Although the state was ethnically homogeneous, Kim’s campaign against previous collaborators with the Japanese also stoked internal divisions as individuals were asked to defend their family’s actions during the Japanese occupation.

Thus Kim’s prioritization of forceful reunification can be understood by its domestic benefits. A positive result from a conflict between the North and South would have generated higher status for that state internationally, as that state would be recognized as the sole legitimate authority. It also would have “[induced] social cohesion through national identification” and thereby increase investments in national institutions. Conversely, we can assume that without these anticipated benefits of national identification that Kim would not have crossed the 38th parallel. 

WAR-MAKING AND MYTH-MAKING

Clearly, the Korean War did not end with Kim ruling over the entire peninsula. Yet despite this loss, the North Korean government continues to feature the conflict as an example of the nation’s victory over the imperial U.S. The anniversary of the war is usually celebrated in North Korea with mass rallies, while the war’s atrocities are collectively mourned as U.S. war crimes. These revisionist strategies can be partially explained by the war’s function as a nationalist myth. 

Miguel Centeno’s Blood and Debt focuses on war and the nation-state in Latin America, but offers a key analysis of the relationship between wars and myths. He asserts that warfare and state authority “helped create and were in turn shaped by particular forms of national allegiance.” War provided a path for group identity, where it might have been unavailable otherwise. Such military experiences also create a shared history for a nation, much like the American Revolution is the foundation of any U.S. history course. 

North Korea before the war did not lack a collective identity, but the issue of detangling a specifically “Northern” identity from the more general “Korean” identity remained. At the time, many families were separated between the two regions, and Kim Il-Sung struggled with encouraging anti-Southern sentiment. Furthermore, there were few historical events universally experienced by only North Koreans that could unify the nation — making the Korean War an attractive option later on.

Official state nationalism in North Korea — which promotes independence from imperial powers like the United States — is therefore substantiated by the Korean War. Not only did the conflict create a clearly identifiable external “other,” the war’s extensive destruction resulted in its collective preservation in the public’s memories. But where Centeno notes war was a limited source of nationalism in Latin America, North Korea capitalized on the Korean War as a source of nationalist myths. Unlike Latin America, North Korea’s precarious location next to its enemies created a need for national solidarity and its general homogeneity helped facilitate a national community. 

Nationalism as a political force is garnering increased attention in contemporary media, mostly due to the proliferation of extremist nationalist movements. But nationalism is not a particularly new or unique concept — not only is it embedded in our daily lives, it can be an explanatory factor for many historical developments. As we continue to analyze past military conflicts, understanding domestic considerations like nation-building and nationalist myths will be necessary. 

Works Cited

Centeno, Miguel Angel. 2002. Blood and Debt. War and the Nation-State in Latin America. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University.

Sambanis, Nicholas, Stergios Skaperdas, and William Wohlforth. 2015. “Nation-Building through War.” American Political Science Review, 109(2): 279-296.