logo
Ex-Paramount chief hoped Trump lawsuit would force CBS to be more balanced on Israel

Ex-Paramount chief hoped Trump lawsuit would force CBS to be more balanced on Israel

Fox News12 hours ago
The former Paramount chief reportedly saw a silver lining in President Donald Trump's prolonged legal battle with CBS News.
Shari Redstone, who was the controlling shareholder of the media giant before recently selling it to Skydance Media as part of an $8 billion merger, was outspoken about her support for Paramount to settle Trump's lawsuit over allegations of "election interference" in the run-up to the 2024 presidential election. Trump and Paramount reached a multimillion-dollar settlement last month.
However, it wasn't CBS' political coverage that irked Redstone. It was the network's coverage of the Israel-Hamas war. According to The New York Times, "Maybe, she thought, Mr. Trump's criticism of the news division, and his lawsuit, could be helpful."
"We needed more balance," Redstone said in an interview with The New York Times Tuesday, referring to CBS' war coverage. "Part of me thought, maybe Trump could accomplish what I never got done."
Redstone, a staunch supporter of Israel, was vocal in her complaints about how slanted she perceived CBS' coverage was against Israel.
The Times reported that a major inflection point came when "60 Minutes" aired a segment featuring former State Department officials who resigned in protest over U.S. support for Israel. The segment was viewed as one-sided with an emphasis on allegations of atrocities committed by Israel, while barely mentioning the barbaric Oct. 7 terrorist attack committed by Hamas.
Internal objections to the episode led to the appointment of CBS veteran Susan Zirinsky as the network's newly created executive editor of standards, which, in turn, The Times reported, led to "60 Minutes" executive producer Bill Owens' abrupt exit in protest over the increased corporate oversight. Owens' resignation caused further consternation with "60 Minutes" correspondent Scott Pelley lamenting the drama on-air.
Redstone also spoke up in defense of "CBS Mornings" co-host Tony Dokoupil, who was facing internal backlash for grilling liberal media darling and anti-Israel author Ta-Nehisi Coates in an October 2024 interview. Dokoupil was scolded by his bosses, who told him the interview didn't meet "editorial standards." Dokoupil also apologized to offended staffers.
"I think Tony did a great job with that interview. I think he handled himself and showed the world and modeled what civil discourse is. He showed that there was accountability, that there is a system of checks and balances, and frankly, I was very proud of the work that he did," Redstone said at the time. "As hard as it was, frankly, for me to go against the company, because I love this company, and I believe in it, and I think we have a great, great executive team, I think they made a mistake here."
CBS staffers last year were also reportedly instructed not to refer to Jerusalem, Israel's capital, as being in Israel, saying in a memo its status is "disputed" and that it "goes to the heart of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict."
Redstone, the daughter of the late billionaire mogul Sumner Redstone, was widely expected to receive a $2.4 billion buyout as a result of the Skydance merger. Paramount is now being run by David Ellison, son of billionaire Oracle co-founder Larry Ellison.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

How conservatives help their young thinkers — and why liberals don't
How conservatives help their young thinkers — and why liberals don't

Vox

time18 minutes ago

  • Vox

How conservatives help their young thinkers — and why liberals don't

is a senior correspondent at Vox, where he covers ideology and challenges to democracy, both at home and abroad. His book on democracy,, was published 0n July 16. You can purchase it here. Attendees look on during Turning Point USA's Culture War event at the Ohio State University in Columbus, Ohio, on October 29, 2019. Megan Jelinger/AFP via Getty Images Last week, two young liberals asked for help finding a job in the ideas industry. And I didn't have a great answer. It made sense that they were asking: We were at a conference for liberals, dedicated to building a version of the doctrine that works in the 21st century. They were interested in studying ideas professionally, and I was there to moderate a panel about political philosophy. Yet I found myself struggling to give good advice. Sure, they could try for an internship at a liberal publication or think tank, but those are fiercely competitive and don't pay much. They could apply for a PhD program, but teaching jobs were scarce even before President Donald Trump took a hammer to American academia. What's really missing are programs of a specific kind — ones that help college students and recent grads engage with Big Ideas and connect with Important People. If my young acquaintances were right-wing, I might have told them to apply for National Review's Buckley and Rhodes journalism fellowships — multiyear paid opportunities to write for a national audience straight out of college. For a lesser commitment, they could have tried for the Claremont Institute's Publius Fellowship — a three-week program where you receive $1,500, a $700 travel stipend, free housing, paid meals, and an opportunity to study with some of the most influential (and radical) figures of the Trump era. On the Right The ideas and trends driving the conservative movement, from senior correspondent Zack Beauchamp. Email (required) Sign Up By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. Those are two examples of numerous well-funded programs explicitly designed to usher as many bright young people into the institutional conservative world as possible. If you're an ambitious young college grad, and anywhere on the spectrum from libertarian to hardcore Trumpist, you've got tons of options to get into the ideas game. My young acquaintances really wanted a liberal version of such a thing. But as far as I can tell, it doesn't seem to exist. Where there should be a talent pipeline from universities to liberal public intellectualism, there is a giant sucking sound instead. And, increasingly, it's giving the right a leg up in winning the future. The right's winning formula for training youth It is true, as conservatives have long alleged, that America's intellectual institutions are pretty left-leaning places. They often overstate the case — professors are more likely to be Elizabeth Warren Dems than 'globalize the intifada' socialist revolutionaries — but data confirms that liberals outnumber conservatives in academia and the media by pretty significant margins. This is, of course, not at all new. One of the founding texts of the postwar conservative movement, William F. Buckley's God and Man at Yale, is all about how academia is full of socialists who are chipping away at the eternal truths of capitalism and Christianity. Buckley founded National Review as an antidote to what he saw as the liberal tilt of the mainstream American press. The legacy of Buckley-style thinking is the rise of a conservative ideas industry. A young person nowadays could attend college at right-wing Hillsdale, build their law school life around membership in the Federalist Society, and then get a job writing right-wing papers for the Heritage Foundation — all while getting their news from Fox News and Mark Levin's radio show. As part of these pipeline programs, older right-wingers get to know young up-and-comers as people, and thus develop a personal stake in their success. At the same time, the right also invested in the kinds of 'pipeline' programs our young liberals are desperate for. These aren't designed to replace traditional education or media institutions, but rather to identify young people interested in ideas and expose them to the right-wing alternatives. These work, in large part, by being intellectually exciting. It's not just that you get to go on all-expenses-paid trips with nice meals; it's that you are put in an environment where you're reading and debating classic works of political thought and literature with other people who share those interests. If you're the kind of nerd who wants to debate the finer points of Locke and Hamilton during undergrad summers, you're the kind of nerd who might one day be someone who matters in US politics — and the right's fellowships are there to help make sure you're mattering on their side. The people these young people are meeting are important and famous (well, DC famous). In a 2021 episode of the Know Your Enemy podcast, Nate Hochman — a radical young conservative writer who later staffed both Gov. Ron DeSantis and Sen. Eric Schmitt — talks at length about 'the masterful things the conservative movement institutionally has done in terms of mentorship.' Hochman, who was raised in a liberal household and moved to the right in college, describes how the movement's fellowship programs brought him in direct and meaningful contact with conservatism's leading lights. 'All of a sudden, you're at dinner with people you've looked up to for years, staying up until 1 am drinking wine with them and asking them questions and getting to talk to them. And they're taking you seriously,' Hochman says. As part of these pipeline programs, older right-wingers get to know young up-and-comers as people, and thus develop a personal stake in their success. When you stay up late drinking with someone, talking about shared ideas, you come to care about them in a way you don't if they sent you a cold email. When they come looking for help getting a job writing about conservative ideas, you'll work that much harder to place them in one. And the right has built its institutions to ensure that such positions are available. Right-wing publications and think tanks are much more open to debating big-picture questions — say, what kind of a nation is America? — than their left-wing peers (more on that in a second). Claremont, for example, was founded by students of conservative political philosopher Harry Jaffa, and it shows in the kind of work they put out (even when it strikes me as substantively ridiculous). Liberals are suffering from success There is no parallel culture in American liberalism — a function, in part, of liberalism's longtime intellectual dominance. There wasn't much of a need for liberal donors to create programs to cultivate liberal thought, as people interested could simply go get a PhD or an entry-level reporting job. However, these institutions were not avowedly liberal in character. They styled themselves as politically neutral, focused more on quality research and reporting, than as contributing to a particular ideological cause. This means that while liberals in such fields were in left-leaning environments, many were trained to see themselves primarily as professionals working a craft. So while there are plenty of internships available to young liberals, they're mostly focused on professional training (or coffee-fetching) rather than staying up late swapping ideas with big names. More broadly, the liberal professional approach also produced a kind of intellectual siloing. If you were a young liberal interested in political philosophy, odds are that you end up going to a PhD program and pursuing a career in academia. If you're interested in policy, odds are that you ended up studying a set of applied skills (like law or economics) that prepared you for very specific policy discussions in your area of expertise. But the conservative intellectual model bridges the philosophy-policy gap. It trains young people in the big-picture ideas, like conservative visions of political morality and religion, and teaches them to connect those things to everyday policy discussions. You aren't learning about abstract ideas or concrete policy, but rather learning a comprehensive worldview that treats policy issues as downstream of specific values. You are, in short, learning an ideology. Liberalism has plenty of brilliant theorists who work at a largely abstract level, and policy wonks who work on the most applied issues. But in the middle area of ideology, one bridging the gap between principle and policy, they've basically ceded the field to conservatism. The pipeline problem for young people is a symptom of the movement's blind spot: liberals, as a collective, don't care to cultivate a youth ideological cadre. This might not have been a problem in the past — and maybe even a benefit. Ideological thinking tends to produce rigidity, an unwillingness to adjust one's policy thinking based on new evidence. The right's longtime insistence that tax cuts can reduce deficits, or addiction to proposing military solutions to foreign policy problems, are two examples of curdled ideology. But we're at a moment where liberalism is in a particular kind of crisis: under threat from new ideologies that challenge not specific liberal policy ideas, but the basic premises of a liberal political system. Liberals need a new and compelling vision: one that explains why our ideas are not merely a defense of an unpopular status quo, but a broader politics that can be used to address cardinal problems of the 21st century. At this moment, liberals lack the personnel to articulate such a vision — while the right's radical thinkers, at places like Claremont, seize the field.

As hurricane season collides with immigration agenda, fears increase for those without legal status
As hurricane season collides with immigration agenda, fears increase for those without legal status

San Francisco Chronicle​

time19 minutes ago

  • San Francisco Chronicle​

As hurricane season collides with immigration agenda, fears increase for those without legal status

If a major hurricane approaches Central Florida this season, Maria knows it's dangerous to stay inside her wooden, trailer-like home. In past storms, she evacuated to her sister's sturdier house. If she couldn't get there, a shelter set up at the local high school served as a refuge if needed. But with aggressively accelerating detentions and deportations of immigrants across her community of Apopka, 20 miles (32 kilometers) northwest of Orlando, Maria, an agricultural worker from Mexico without permanent U.S. legal status, doesn't know if those options are safe. All risk encountering immigration enforcement agents. 'They can go where they want,' said Maria, 50, who insisted The Associated Press not use her last name for fear of detention. 'There is no limit.' Natural disasters have long posed singular risks for people in the United States without permanent legal status. But with the arrival of peak Atlantic hurricane season, immigrants and their advocates say President Donald Trump's militaristic immigration enforcement agenda has increased the danger. Places considered neutral spaces by immigrants such as schools, hospitals and emergency management agencies are now suspect, and agreements by local law enforcement to collaborate with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement make them more vulnerable, choosing between physical safety or avoiding detention. 'Am I going to risk the storm or risk endangering my family at the shelter?' said Dominique O'Connor, an organizer at the Farmworker Association of Florida. 'You're going to meet enforcement either way.' For O'Connor and for many immigrants, it's about storms. But people without permanent legal status could face these decisions anywhere that extreme heat, wildfires or other severe weather could necessitate evacuating, getting supplies or even seeking medical care. Federal and state agencies have said little on whether immigration enforcement would be suspended in a disaster. It wouldn't make much difference to Maria: 'With all we've lived, we've lost trust.' New policies deepen concerns Efforts by Trump's Republican administration to exponentially expand immigration enforcement capacity mean many of the agencies active in disaster response are increasingly entangled in immigration enforcement. Since January, hundreds of law enforcement agencies have signed 287(g) agreements, allowing them to perform certain immigration enforcement actions. Most of the agreements are in hurricane-prone Florida and Texas. Florida's Division of Emergency Management oversees building the state's new detention facilities, like the one called 'Alligator Alcatraz' in the Everglades. Federal Emergency Management Agency funds are being used to build additional detention centers around the country, and the Department of Homeland Security temporarily reassigned some FEMA staff to assist ICE. The National Guard, often seen passing out food and water after disasters, has been activated to support U.S. Customs and Border Protection operations and help at detention centers. These dual roles can make for an intimidating scene during a disaster. After floods in July, more than 2,100 personnel from 20 state agencies aided the far-reaching response effort in Central Texas, along with CBP officers. Police controlled entry into hard-hit areas. Texas Department of Public Safety and private security officers staffed entrances to disaster recovery centers set up by FEMA. That unsettled even families with permanent legal status, said Rae Cardenas, executive director of Doyle Community Center in Kerrville, Texas. Cardenas helped coordinate with the Mexican Consulate in San Antonio to replace documents for people who lived behind police checkpoints. 'Some families are afraid to go get their mail because their legal documents were washed away,' Cardenas said. In Florida, these policies could make people unwilling to drive evacuation roads. Traffic stops are a frequent tool of detention, and Florida passed a law in February criminalizing entry into the state by those without legal status, though a judge temporarily blocked it. There may be fewer places to evacuate now that public shelters, often guarded by police or requiring ID to enter, are no longer considered 'protected areas' by DHS. The agency in January rescinded a policy of President Joe Biden, a Democrat, to avoid enforcement in places like schools, medical facilities and emergency response sites. The fears extend even into disaster recovery. On top of meeting law enforcement at FEMA recovery centers, mixed-status households that qualify for help from the agency might hesitate to apply for fear of their information being accessed by other agencies, said Esmeralda Ledezma, communications associate with the Houston-based nonprofit Woori Juntos. 'Even if you have the right to federal aid, you're afraid to be punished for it,' Ledezma said. In past emergencies, DHS has put out messaging stating it would suspend immigration enforcement. The agency's policy now is unclear. DHS Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin said in an email that CBP had not issued any guidance 'because there have been no natural disasters affecting border enforcement.' She did not address what directions were given during CBP's activation in the Texas floods or whether ICE would be active during a disaster. Florida's Division of Emergency Management did not respond to questions related to its policies toward people without legal status. Texas' Division of Emergency Management referred The Associated Press to Republican Gov. Greg Abbott's office, which did not respond. Building local resilience is a priority In spite of the crackdown, local officials in some hurricane-prone areas are expanding outreach to immigrant populations. 'We are trying to move forward with business as usual,' said Gracia Fernandez, language access coordinator for Alachua County in Central Florida. The county launched a program last year to translate and distribute emergency communications in Spanish, Haitian Creole and other languages. Now staffers want to spread the word that county shelters won't require IDs, but since they're public spaces, Fernandez acknowledged there's not much they can do if ICE comes. 'There is still a risk,' she said. 'But we will try our best to help people feel safe.' As immigrant communities are pushed deeper into the shadows, more responsibility falls on nonprofits, and communities themselves, to keep each other safe. Hope Community Center in Apopka has pushed local officials to commit to not requiring IDs at shelters and sandbag distribution points. During an evacuation, the facility becomes an alternative shelter and a command center, from which staffers translate and send out emergency communications in multiple languages. For those who won't leave their homes, staffers do door-to-door wellness checks, delivering food and water. 'It's a very grassroots, underground operation,' said Felipe Sousa Lazaballet, the center's executive director. Preparing the community is challenging when it's consumed by the daily crises wrought by detentions and deportations, Sousa Lazaballet said. 'All of us are in triage mode,' he said. 'Every day there is an emergency, so the community is not necessarily thinking about hurricane season yet. That's why we have to have a plan.' ___

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store