Trump can't win a war on the media: Column As past presidents learned, trying to crush or outlast the press is dangerous and futile.

Jon Friedman | USA TODAY

Show Caption Hide Caption Trump aide Steve Bannon tells media to keep its mouth shut White House Chief Strategist Steve Bannon had some harsh words for the media. Veuer's Nick Cardona has the story.

Even before Donald J. Trump was sworn in as the nation's 45th president, he had all but declared war on the American media. But if history is a reliable judge, Trump is playing a dangerous game.



American presidents have tried to intimidate, manipulate and crush journalists. But as events unfolded, the balance of power inevitably shifted, like a seesaw, from the White House to the press corps.



In 1963, John Kennedy tried to halt the critical reporting from Vietnam by New York Times Saigon correspondent David Halberstam. Kennedy summoned New York Times publisher Arthur Sulzberger to the White House and, according to Halberstam's book, The Powers That Be, asked if he was considering transferring Halberstam to a post in Rome or Paris. No, Sulzberger replied. Halberstam went on to win a Pulitzer Prize in 1964 for his Vietnam reporting.



Kennedy’s successor, Lyndon Johnson, also found himself under pressure over America’s failing policy in Vietnam. Johnson responded by calling those nettlesome reporters traitors.

But their Vietnam reporting turned out to be correct. Johnson, broken by the country's negative feelings about his Vietnam policies, announced in early 1968 that he would not seek another term, paving the way for the election that fall of Richard Nixon.

During Nixon’s first term, his vice president, Spiro Agnew, charged that the media were "nattering nabobs of negativism,” in an effort to fire up Nixon’s “Silent Majority” base.

The Nixon administration proceeded to discredit The Washington Post's reporting on the Watergate break-in in 1972. But the damning evidence mounted, showing that the Nixon administration had been culpable. Eventually Nixon resigned the presidency in August 1974.



Which brings us to 2017. Right from the start, the Trump administration was furious about reporting on the size of the inaugural crowd that greeted Trump, compared to the size of Obama’s audience in 2009, and whether the press had fanned the flames of a presidential feud with the U.S. intelligence community.

In fact, Trump had drawn the battle lines on Jan. 21 when he acknowledged his “war” with journalists as he visited CIA headquarters. Later that day at the White House, during the spectacularly successful worldwide Women’s March, press secretary Sean Spicer lashed out at reporters in a prepared statement. He read it aloud and didn't take questions.

Subsequently, the media challenged the veracity of statements made by the Trump administration. Naturally, a social-media furor erupted. On Sunday morning, the dispute spilled over into a theater of the absurd. Trump’s counselor, Kellyanne Conway, told NBC’s Meet the Press that Spicer had used “alternative facts” when he had declared, “This was the largest audience ever to witness an inauguration. Period.”

Meet the Press moderator Chuck Todd retorted that “alternative facts are not facts. They are falsehoods.”



On Monday, at the first official White House briefing, the embattled Spicer took a different tack. “I’m going to stay here as long as you want,” he said good-naturedly, prompting laughter. A moment later, Spicer said, “I want to make sure we have a healthy relationship.”

But is such an outcome even remotely possible, when emotions on both sides are running so high? Is there too much suspicion for the media and the White House to find common ground?

POLICING THE USA: A look at race, justice, media

And how will traditional media adapt to the new hierarchy Spicer signaled by giving the ceremonial first question at the first briefing to a reporter from … The New York Post? The racy tabloid has gotten more mileage out of its notorious “Headless Body in Topless Bar” headline over the years than it has for its thoughtful, probing coverage of the White House.

As it weighs whether to escalate hostilities against the press, the Trump administration would be prudent to consider a snapshot from the Kennedy years.



New York Times Washington Bureau Chief James Reston felt that Kennedy's press secretary, Theodore Sorenson, was bullying the Times' new White House correspondent Tom Wicker. Reston handled the situation by noting an inconvenient truth.



"We were here before you got here, Ted," Reston told Sorenson, "and we will be here when you are gone.”



Jon Friedman, who wrote MarketWatch’s Media Web column for 13 years, teaches at the Stony Brook University School of Journalism. Follow him on Twitter: @jonmediaweb

You can read diverse opinions from our Board of Contributors and other writers on the Opinion front page, on Twitter @USATOpinion and in our daily Opinion newsletter. To submit a letter, comment or column, check our submission guidelines.