A question of caution arose during an editorial session about a month before publication of our now infamous editorial endorsement for president: Should we endorse John Kerry? Actually, the issue first surfaced, somewhat informally, about a year before publication of the editorial: “Kerry will restore American dignity” when the editors mentioned the “what ifs” involving a potential anti-Bush endorsement. At that point, the thought was to wait and see. It was too early to make an assessment, but the issues we saw, or more importantly didn’t see, in the early campaign were troubling to us all. We determined to make notes during the coming few months.

From the moment of the paper’s conception, the goal forged by the publishers of the Iconoclast was to tell the truth as we saw it, no matter who might take exception. That included running a pure op/ed page, uninhibited by perceptions of popular opinion or by pressure from the outside. We would not second-guess ourselves just to curry the star-struck local favour. The August 2004 caution was swept aside by the increasingly pressing need for an honest editorial. In retrospect, perhaps we were among the few venues in the nation where genuine dissent would have earned the attention we believed was absent from a lacklustre, personality-driven, Madison Avenue-style popularity contest for the most powerful government office in the world. Had we realised this melancholy reality, we might have been more intimidated by the task.

We determined that to make our case more effectively by diversifying the points of view, the editorial should be co-written by our “elder statesman” associate editor Don M Fisher, associate editor Nathan Diebenow, and me. This process involved sharing early drafts, editing each other’s work, compiling elements into a single document, and over a period of weeks editing, re-editing, and economising rhetoric to shrink the document into as tight and compelling an argument as possible. Many hours of research went into the piece as we referenced and cross-referenced sources, with the goal being what we deemed to be “the perfect editorial”. The original “finished draft” covered three-quarters of a broadsheet newspaper page, which I considered an epic rather than an editorial. We cut it time and again, only to expose more arguments that we felt were essential. Finally, we were able to whittle the document into a half-page of newsprint and were comfortable with the results. After a few surgeries to remove modifiers and superfluous text, revise absolutes, and clean up possible ambiguities, we were ready to publish.

We were pleased with the editorial, confident that it forcefully conveyed our message, but there did exist some uneasiness. We knew that much of our audience would bristle at what we were saying, and there were very real risks that might result in more visceral manifestations of their anger. We do live in Texas, where some elements believe rattlesnakes too prone to inaction. Yet we hoped that disagreements would be argued on our editorial page and trusted that a dagger for the messenger was not among the options.

It had to be published

The newspaper’s network of event informants ceased to exist, and the predictable threats of physical violence slithered out of the wainscoting. Publicity of the endorsement of Kerry was unexpectedly widespread. During the ensuing weeks I was interviewed by hundreds of news outlets throughout the country – newspaper, radio, and television. The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, CNN, NBC, CBS, ABC and Fox all ran stories about the editorial. The Denver Post, The Las Vegas Sun and a score of smaller publications asked permission to reprint it, or simply did so without permission. Our stance came to the attention of the rest of the world. I was interviewed by journalists from England, France, Germany, Ireland, Denmark, Spain, Norway, Canada, Mexico, South America, Australia and elsewhere.

The newspaper’s website, www.iconoclast-texas.com, posted the editorial and received an estimated three million hits during the weeks immediately following publication. The article was picked up on many other websites, as bloggers pro and con had a field day with it. And then, as news of the subscription cancellations became known, people from coast to coast began subscribing to the Iconoclast. Before publication of the editorial, the newspaper’s circulation had been 920. That figure dropped to about 400 after the first week, but thereafter gradually grew to about 2,600. A few individuals bought advertisements that proclaimed the importance of a free press. Some of the ads thanked the Iconoclast for taking a stand.

On the other side, the newspaper has suffered a continuous, vehement local backlash, with boycotts of the newspaper and of any business or organisation that supports the newspaper. There have been personal threats against members of our staff, while some individuals have mounted a concerted effort to put the newspaper out of business. Before Bush’s ascension to office, when individuals disagreed with an editorial they wrote letters to the editor expressing, politely or impolitely, different points of view from those of the newspaper. These we have usually published. Occasionally someone would cancel a subscription or an advertisement, but this was rare. We expected that perhaps a few readers might cancel subscriptions, maybe even ads, but we have been amazed at a few of the more fanatical communications we have received, some of which have resorted to outright personal attacks and blatant perversion.

We knew there were risks in publishing this editorial, but hoped that common sense would prevail and that the course of criticism would most likely find us knee-high in letters to the editor, with some writers taking exception and others voicing support. While we hardly anticipated the volume of reaction, the vast majority of it was within these parameters. In fact the ratio of positive to negative reactions, with the former outstripping the latter almost ten to one, was gratifying. But an element of hate, overt and vicious, seethed from the bowels of the Bush cult.

During the past four years, there has been a shift in the United States away from a decent respect for the opinions of those with whom one disagrees. Several avid Bush supporters have told us that the days when newspapers publish editorials without personal repercussions are over. The American neo-conservative movement, more reminiscent of mid-20th century European fascism than honest conservatism, has no place for those who do not blindly adhere to their dictates. To think otherwise is tantamount to treason.

Differing opinions were valuable

If none of us acted upon principle – editors, reporters, columnists, and letter writers – there would be no standard for truth. Principle in its purest form is an absolute, but truth is rarely as clear. I daresay we could argue that truth may not even be absolute, but merely a pursuit, and that pursuit is, in reality, truth itself. Certainly without principle and respect for it, there can be no truth. In journalism, principle is usually appraised by the intuitive, informed assessment of a writer attempting to convey a succinct and accurate message. Although there are rare occasions when altering an editorial to fit a targeted audience can make it more effective, as a usual course the procedure strips the composition of its heart. A cold slap ensures reaction more than a warm towel, especially in the current dangerous world of cold reality and scant warm comfort. To go even further, the soft and fuzzy is too often tantamount to the desecration of the truth.

When principle is pitted against the prospect of survival, or otherwise, of a newspaper, publishers have a tough choice, especially in locales where words have consequences and the general readership might not be sophisticated enough to see the consideration of alternative ideas as a positive. Americans live in an age when fanatical devotion seems to many a reasonable weapon in defence against fanatical devotion. “If al-Qaeda succeeds through the worship of bin Laden, we shall worship Bush all the more.” Dissent becomes heresy.

Traditionally, the goal of most op/ed pages has been to provide an arena to express as great a variety of thoughtful perspectives as possible. The Iconoclast has championed this notion, not only because it adds an important dimension to the product, but because the reader’s thinking improves in proximity to diverse viewpoints, resulting in reasoned solutions for the republic and enriched development of character for the reader. Members of the media must decide in times of potential retribution whether to vitiate their product for the security of revenue, or to risk it all for the sake of journalistic integrity and the virtue of honouring one’s principles. It has been our experience that most of those who work in the media tend to believe that principles are more valuable than money. Newspapers are considered businesses, and they must act that way on one level. But newspapers are also regarded as institutions, with a reverence that resides on a higher plateau, for they are public watchdogs. To repudiate the institutional dimension for cash lowers the bar for every journalist, and could, over time, result in redefining journalism as something less than noble.

Nobody said being a journalist is easy. Far from it. The altar of principle dictates individual excellence and perseverance, which requires talent, sweat, and risk. To topple that altar in the name of profit is unconscionable. To abandon the mission of journalistic purity in favour of a lesser ideal, or a path without nettles, debases the profession and corrupts the product. That’s why true journalists adhere to the belief that principles must be honoured.

And what of the Iconoclast in the intervening months? We have soldiered on, perhaps more attentive to security, except for old Fisher, who has a bit more fire in the belly than the rest of us and promised our antagonists in a recent column to “fistfight you in hell”. Bush’s narrowest popular vote victory in American history seemed almost anti-climactic compared to the metamorphic experience that accompanied it. We adapted our format and content to embrace a broader audience and found that we are now more true to our name. The viciousness of the opposition forced us into a more determined posture. We are trying to offer a greater variety of stories our readers are not likely to find elsewhere, alternative but reasoned views of American life and events. Whether we will be successful as a publication certainly remains to be seen, but that hardly matters. Our intention, from that day more than a year ago when we first considered a provocative notion, was to contribute in our own way, however limited, to our nation’s repository of ideas.

In an enlightened society, patrons of the word have the option of rejecting arguments and thoughts through reflection, saving that which might be useful in the future, nodding reinforcement of one’s own point of view, or providing resolution or rebuttal, sharing those expanded considerations later in a broadened, and therefore more effective forum. To threaten this process only reduces the existence of the entire forum, even the repressor’s own, and conveys a lack of regard for the thoughtful contributions of his fellow citizens. It is an odyssey away from the hidden treasure. The death of opinionated discourse dilutes expansive thinking and halts the essential pondering that precedes competent decision-making. That trek leads us back to the trees.

One might argue that a readership that does not want to hear rational alternatives doesn’t deserve an evolutionary enlightenment. However, in reality, security’s bloodline is knowledge. Populations that regress into a myopic view of governance are doomed, eventually, by the technological, social, and political progress that is the ultimate destiny of nations of ideas. Without the existence of contrasting points of view, there is nothing upon which reason may feed. This is why publishers must be encouraged to stand on principle as the only defence when the herd is stampeding. As our ancestors ascertained millennia ago, the oblivious herd is destined, eventually, to arrive at the edge of a cliff.