Saving KPFA?
Almost five years after the lockout of 1999, Pacifica has launched an important experiment in media democracy

By Camille T. Taiara

On July 13, 1999, the Pacifica network's then-self-selected national board had veteran KPFA-FM Flashpoints programmer Dennis Bernstein dragged off the air by newly hired security thugs, ordered the arrest of more than 50 others at the station, and locked the doors in a bitter fight over the direction of the network.

Protests ensued for weeks on end, at times involving thousands. Dozens camped out in front of the station office. As a result, local activists were able to wrest control of KPFA from the national office – and stop Pacifica from acting on possible plans to sell off one of its stations.

Now, in a sense, KPFA and Pacifica's future hangs in the balance once again.

Almost five years and four lawsuits after the infamous battle of 1999, activists' struggle to ensure the network remains true to its grass roots is finally coming to fruition: Pacifica stations – which have provided one of the most important voices of dissent against the wars on terrorism and Iraq – are in the midst of elections that will grant listeners a majority voice in station operations. It represents the first time an audience has a part in the governance of a radio network in the United States.

Listener-members at the network's five stations are electing 18 of the new local station board's 24 members, with staff selecting the remaining 6. The LSB will then choose 4 members each to serve on the network's national board – which, in turn, will select an extra 3 or 4 members to join them. Before, local boards held only advisory powers.

"At a time when the rest of the country's media is becoming so undemocratic and inaccessible, KPFA is going in the opposite direction," said Matthew Lasar, a former KPFA news programmer and author of Pacifica Radio: The Rise of an Alternative Network.

The question is, will it lead to real change?

Critics both in- and outside the station accuse "entrenched powers" – a predominantly white and older bloc of veteran programmers – of resisting needed changes to KPFA's programming and excluding newer and volunteer staffers from the decision-making process.

As a result, they say, some of the programming has become stale and, without room made for newer voices, the station is failing to serve marginalized populations. At the same time, KPFA needs to preserve its role as a dependable, progressive community resource.

"We don't have any queer programming," said Amelia Gonzalez, director of KPFA's apprentice program, which was created largely to attract more women and people of color. "I understand Oakland has the largest population of urban Native Americans in the country, yet we don't have a public affairs show that deals with Native American issues."

Hard Knocks Radio executive producer Weyland Southon is skeptical about the impact of KPFA's democratization drive. "We have to compete with other radio stations," he told the Bay Guardian. "I don't think a lot of [the listener candidates] know what that means. I'm worried that this is going to create a lot of process and no action."

KPFA's defenders often point to Hard Knocks Radio, a rising star that bills itself as "a talk show for the hip-hop generation," as an example of positive transformation at the station. But Southon said the program never would have made it onto the schedule if it hadn't been for pressure from former Pacifica board chair Mary Frances Berry – whose top-heavy leadership led to the 1999 showdown – to diversify KPFA's programming. (Southon explained that his opinions do not necessarily reflect those of other Hard Knocks staff.)

KPFA's problems have been exacerbated by a persistent void in formal leadership. General manager Gus Newport was brought in just six months ago through a process some charge was tainted by power politics. An African American former mayor of Berkeley, Newport, despite a lack of background in radio, seems to possess much of the consciousness and skill needed to transform the station into a more representational entity – if he remains. "I've been having discussions with Pacifica's executive director [about leaving the station]," Newport confirmed.

Assistant general manager and development director Phil Osegueda may also be jumping ship, according to insiders. And the station has no program director.

Peter Franck, National Lawyers Guild's Center for Democratic Communications legal director and Pacifica's president from 1980 through 1984 (well before the board became self-selecting), said KPFA has always resisted change.

"One thing is quality, another is mainstreaming," he said. "There are never going to be those equitable processes without listeners having a direct voice and exerting continuous pressure."

While most seem to welcome a larger, formalized role for listeners, staff and activists view the democratization drive with varying degrees of hopefulness.

"The problem is, what listeners will be in the decision-making body?" Gonzalez asked. "Just those who've been listeners for the past 30 years, or will it include people who we'd like to be reaching too?"

In the end the result of Pacifica's experiment in media democracy could either be a train wreck or an important model.

What's important now, most agree, is that listener-members do their part: at least 10 percent must vote by Feb. 5 for the elections to be valid.

To find out about the 48 candidates running for the listener slots on the KPFA's local station board, go to election.kpfa.org.

E-mail Camille T. Taiara