We feature each week Nicholas Reid's reviews and comments on new and recent books
“EXTRA! EXTRA! – How People Made the News” by David Hastings
(Auckland University Press, $NZ45)
Back in the
1950s, in one of his facetious late collections, A.R.D.Fairburn wrote a parody
of Irving Berlin’s “I’ve Got the Sun in the Morning and the Moon at Night”. It
went:
“Got our mansion, got our yacht
Got it all by selling this rot
In the Herald in the morning and the Star at night.”
And so on for four or five
equally subtle verses.
Any Aucklander could latch onto
it at once. For a bit over a century, news in Auckland meant the New Zealand Herald in the morning and
the Auckland Star in the evening. The
Herald was (and still is) more likely
to be on the right in politics. The mildly populist Star was a teensy bit more to the left; not wildly so. But the
onset of other news media (i.e. television) meant, internationally, the decline
of evening newspapers, and the Star
died over twenty years ago, leaving behind its ghost in the form of the weekly Sunday Star-Times. The Herald has Auckland’s daily newspaper
market to itself.
For an Aucklander of my
generation, the Herald and the Star were such recognisable institutions
that it’s hard to realize there were once other Auckland daily newspapers
before either of them existed.
A journalist who has trained as
an historian may seem the ideal person to write a history of those earlier
newspapers and of the rise of the Herald
and the Star. David Hastings worked
for years at the New Zealand Herald
in various editorial capacities, and was then editor of the Weekend Herald. He also earned a masters
degree in history and has already published a book about nineteenth century
migrant ships to New Zealand.
In Extra! Extra!, Hastings tells the story of Auckland’s nineteenth
century newspapers, their rivalries and fights for dominance in a small market.
Many of the stories he digs out are vivid. He highlights the leading
personalities among proprietors, editors and other journalists. He has an
insider’s eye for the tricks of the journalist’s trade (such as pseudonymous
“letters-to-the-editor” written by employees of the newspaper Pg.42). He is
also aware of the market which newspapers addressed, and he keeps us informed
of circulation figures and public reaction to individual newspapers. But
Hastings is also an advocate for newspapers, and there are times when his tone
is a little defensive – even inclined to some special pleading.
As Hastings notes, there were
literally dozens of attempts to establish a weekly or daily newspaper in
Auckland in the mid-19th century. Most of the results were purely
ephemeral – newspapers that survived a few years or months only. Some such
newspapers have lived on as historical footnotes – like the Examiner, which lasted for four years
(1856-60) under the editorship of the bellicose and bigoted freethinker Charles
Southwell.
Once you discount the ephemera,
however, you find that the chief contest in Auckland, from the 1840s to the
1860s, was between two rival morning papers, the New Zealander and the Southern
Cross. The New Zealander was
originally a fierce opponent of Governor George Grey’s policies regarding the
purchase of Maori land, but it was gradually drawn into Grey’s orbit. The Southern Cross, founded slightly later
and the first Auckland paper to become a daily, was more likely to be critical
of Grey. But once the Waikato war was on, both papers tended to report it in
terms of the governor doing the right thing in spreading Pakeha civilization
and ‘opening up’ land. The rivalry between the papers took the form of each
trying to scoop the other over news from the war zone. Hastings tells the story
of a Southern Cross reporter who rode
all night to get news of the fall of Meremere to his editor. He also tells of
soldiers who threatened to beat up a reporter who wrote what they saw as a
slighting story about their performance in battle.
Gradually the Southern Cross overtook its older rival.
After the New Zealand Herald was
founded in 1863, tiny colonial Auckland was for three years served by three
morning newspapers. The New Zealander
ceased to exist when its offices burned down in 1866, and for a time the Southern Cross was Auckland’s major
newspaper with the Herald as its
junior rival. But, as Hastings chronicles, the finances of the Southern Cross were a mess, and the
paper was not helped by the involvement of Julius Vogel, fresh from his
disagreements with the Otago Daily Times.
Hastings interprets Vogel as a “man of the past” who still saw newspapers as a
means of promoting political causes rather than latching on to the need to
provide news first. Later, in 1873, there was the notorious “Kaskowiski” hoax
in which a new editor at the Southern
Cross tried to boost circulation, and provide some controversy over
national defence, by making up a tale of Russian invasion. The Southern Cross came to seem lightweight.
In 1877, it ceased to exist when it merged with the Herald, and Auckland now had just one morning newspaper.
Meanwhile the Evening Star (as it was originally
known) had come on the scene by about 1870, and frightened both the morning
newspapers by frequently scooping them and by rapidly gaining a wider
circulation than either of them. Once the Southern
Cross vanished, Auckland had the duopoly that would last for over a
century, despite the occasional attempt to set up a third newspaper. The Star managed to keep up a higher
circulation than the Herald for many
years after the two of them were firmly established.
As Hastings’ frequent references
to circulation show, it was a very small market that these early newspapers
served. Early issues of the New Zealander
and the Southern Cross were bought by
hundreds, rather than thousands, of people. It was only by the 1880s, when the Star’s daily sales topped 10,000, that
there had developed something like what would be regarded in modern terms as a
mass readership. Despite the Lilliputian scale, this is a story of
larger-then-life journalists like Henry Brett, David Burn, Robert Creighton and
the extraordinary Thomas Leys who edited the Star for 45 years.
It is also, inevitably, a story
of technology. In the pre-cable age, being able to print foreign news before
some rival newspaper meant literally rushing out to ships as they came into
harbour and trying to grab all recent overseas newspapers, to reprint their
news. And if there was a dry spell when no foreign news was forthcoming from
this source, then “when faced with a
famine, editors had no choice but to go back over old papers, winnowing them
for something they missed in the first pass.” (Pg.59)
This changed when the first cable
between New Zealand and Australia was laid in 1872.
Other changes in technology
included linotype and the rotary press. Hastings suggests that the cost of this
new technology was something that cemented the dominance of the Herald and the Star, as it was now prohibitively expensive to set a new newspaper
up.
A sort of background noise to
this history is the issue of attitudes that editors and journalists adopted
towards Maori and Pakeha land hunger. Another is the matter of social class and
politics. One of Hastings’ major themes is the way newspapers moved away from
being political pamphlets and moved into serving the general interests of the
public with wide news coverage and a variety of articles. Yet he does note the
strong political biases of publications. As he reports in Chapter 12 (“The
Spirit of the Age”), even by the 1890s the Herald
was being referred to as “Granny” for its support of conservative politicians
and policies, whereas the Star was
more likely to speak up for trade unionists and the early Liberal ministry.
Similarly (Chapter 13) the Star was
an ardent supporter of women’s suffrage whereas the Herald more-or-less opposed it.
This history fades out on the
situation by about 1900, including a consideration of libel laws and the way
newspapers were sometimes subjected to harassment by aggrieved people who had
barrows to push.
One of Hastings’ most constant
themes is that newspapers are shaped by the communities they serve, rather than
the other way around. He rejects any Gramscian notions of newspapers as
expressions of hegemony. As he puts it in his introduction:
“Because of the imperative to serve reader interests, newspapers were
shaped by their communities and were constantly having to adjust as social
interests and standards changed. The point is of crucial importance to
understanding the history of Auckland’s press because so much criticism and
analysis – both formal and informal – sees influence working the other way
round. Newspapers were supposedly instruments of social control devised by the
ruling elite for the dual purpose of making money and exercising power through
their influence on public opinion. So rather than being shaped, they were the
ones who did the shaping. Largely because of the uncritical acceptance of ideas
like these, historians have tended to underestimate the value of newspapers as
historical documents which, for all their shortcomings, can tell us much about
the societies from which they emerged and with which they were intimately
connected.” (Pg.3)
This note is sounded often
throughout Extra! Extra! and is, I
believe, the author at his most defensive. What is influenced also has
influence over; and newspapers, like any other mass medium, are as much the
shapers and makers of attitudes as they are the reflectors of them.
Not that the ideological
viewpoint mars this good, brisk and well-illustrated piece of accessible
history.
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