Elon Musk, Henry Ford and the Rich Tradition of Rabble-Rousers

An entrepreneur who has fundamentally transformed the automobile industry now seeks to shift global perceptions, so he acquires a media outlet to amplify his voice. His proclamations fuel some of the worst inclinations in society while simultaneously supporting the forces opposed to democracy worldwide.

This scenario may sound like something we could expect from Elon Musk and his social media platform, X, in 2025. However, it mirrors the actions of Henry Ford and his newspaper, The Dearborn Independent, in the 1920s. Ford, the visionary behind the Model T, purchased a local weekly paper and shaped it to spread his antisemitic ideologies. The publication ran a series titled “The International Jew,” which blamed Jews for society’s ills, while also promoting the fraudulent document The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. This alignment with hate earned Ford a medal from the Nazis.

Ford’s case was perhaps the most overt example in a long history of wealthy business magnates purchasing media platforms to promote harmful views. These tycoons frequently used the latest advancements in technology to extend their reach to a broad audience, whether it was high-speed printing presses or, in Ford’s case, his network of car dealerships.

For someone purchasing a new Model T, The Dearborn Independent would often be found on the passenger seat. Newspapers of the time were mostly local affairs. However, through his dealerships, The Dearborn Independent became one of the highest-circulating papers in the country, reaching a peak of over 750,000 copies per issue.

What sets Ford apart from other media moguls, such as Rupert Murdoch, is the more direct approach he took. Murdoch typically promoted his views by hiring editors and journalists who shared his perspectives. In contrast, The Dearborn Independent boldly declared on its cover that it was the “Ford International Weekly,” and included a full-page editorial, personally signed by Ford himself.

Elon Musk’s recent behavior on X signals a return to Ford’s more personal style of media influence. The billionaire behind Tesla and SpaceX has shared, reposted, and endorsed a range of inflammatory claims on X. Among these are assertions that Social Security is fraudulent, that the Democratic Party is intentionally importing immigrants to sway elections, and that federal judges opposing the Trump administration should be impeached.

Musk’s actions on X aren’t without historical precedent, but they have reached unprecedented levels. The platform claims 220 million followers, though this number is difficult to verify. Regardless of the exact figure, X has been optimized to ensure that Musk’s posts spread far and wide, making sure they are seen and heard by a massive audience.

Musk’s $44 billion acquisition of Twitter in 2022 initially appeared to be a misstep, even by his own admission. What started as a billionaire’s plaything soon evolved into a powerful political tool. During the 2022 U.S. midterm elections, Musk wielded the platform to form a political alliance with Donald Trump, using it to strategically position himself within the government and undermine its functioning.

The consequences of this shift are still unfolding. However, for Musk, the results are clear. In the name of government efficiency, he helped push for the firing of regulators who once had the authority to oversee his companies. Now, Musk’s ventures—his cars and rockets—operate with much fewer restrictions. (An X representative did not comment on these developments.)

“This is unlike anything we’ve seen before,” said Rick Perlstein, author of a four-volume history of modern American conservatism. Referring to Musk’s frequent use of memes and provocative images, Perlstein added, “This is the politics of the nervous system, not the higher functions of the brain. There’s no real debate, just fear-mongering.”

In both the U.S. and Britain, media ownership has long been a tool for political influence. During World War I, British media mogul Viscount Northcliffe controlled a significant portion of the country’s press, including The Daily Mail and The Times. His newspapers had immense influence, particularly among different social classes, and he played a major role in shaping public opinion, even contributing to the downfall of Prime Minister Herbert Asquith in 1916. Northcliffe’s impact was so powerful that, in 1917, the German government even sent warships in an attempt to assassinate him.

In the U.S., media ownership often had a more localized impact. In the 1960s, for instance, the Whittenburg family dominated the media landscape in West Texas, controlling The Amarillo Daily News, a local NBC affiliate, and the region’s primary radio station. With so few competing voices, the town’s political landscape was heavily influenced by far-right ideologies.

“If you feed people a far-right media diet, you end up with a population that largely adopts those views,” said historian Jeff Roche, who is studying the political dynamics of that region. “Amarillo became the most right-wing city in America.”

The relationship between media ownership and political power has been a topic of concern for as long as mass media has existed. Simon Potter, a professor at the University of Bristol, notes that the close link between media and politics often raises questions about whether it truly serves the public interest.

One question that often emerges from these concerns is whether media moguls actually wield the power they seek, or if they are merely shouting into an echo chamber. A historical precedent for this is found in the actions of William Randolph Hearst, who in 1897 sent correspondents to Cuba to cover the Spanish-American War. While Hearst’s reporters found no sign of conflict, the media mogul insisted they stay and “furnish the war” by publishing inflammatory reports. Eventually, the U.S. went to war with Spain, leading to the liberation of Cuba and the acquisition of Spanish territories.

The story, popularized in Orson Welles’s Citizen Kane, depicted Hearst as a media magnate so powerful that he could manufacture wars. While this tale has since been debunked, it endures because it portrays a mogul whose influence seemed boundless.

Hearst’s political ambitions, however, eventually led to his downfall. Although he briefly served in the U.S. House of Representatives, his bids to become the mayor of New York and governor of New York were unsuccessful. His anti-Roosevelt editorials in the 1930s ultimately led to his financial decline. As his papers increasingly alienated readers, many sided with President Franklin D. Roosevelt, resulting in the collapse of Hearst’s media empire.

David Nasaw, author of The Chief: The Life of William Randolph Hearst, suggests that Musk’s use of X to rally political support may be as illusory as Hearst’s supposed creation of a war. “I haven’t seen anywhere that Twitter gets out the MAGA vote,” he remarked. While Hearst reflected his readers’ sentiments, Nasaw agrees that Musk’s situation is unique. “Musk is both inside and outside the political system, with no constraints on his behavior,” Nasaw said. “There’s never been anything quite like that.”

Musk’s controversies on X could ultimately have detrimental effects on his business, much like Ford and Hearst’s media exploits. Ford, for instance, faced legal battles and boycotts over The Dearborn Independent, eventually shuttering the paper in 1927 without renouncing his views. Hearst, similarly, lost much of his readership due to his anti-Roosevelt stance.

For Musk, the consequences of courting controversy remain to be seen, but history suggests that his media ventures may eventually damage his reputation and business, just as they did to those who came before him.