LONDON: Thirty-four years after leaving the army, British war reporter Martin Bell had to wear a service uniform again when he was posted to Kuwait alongside British troops to cover the Gulf War of 1991. He dug trenches with his bare hands, and filed daily reports from the front line, adopting the roles of both soldier, and journalist.
When he got back, he made himself a promise to cover the next war as a civilian. He ditched the khaki uniform for a white suit — a choice made out of sheer superstition, Bell reveals. He became known as the “man in the white suit.”
Over three decades, Bell reported on 18 wars. He was filmed in the suit amid the gunfire of war, and adopted the same dress code when he entered the benches of UK Parliament during his term as an independent MP. It was even present later on as Bell embarked on annual missions in conflict-ridden areas as a UNICEF ambassador. And to my pleasant surprise, he wore it during a recent interview in London. Here he explains his varied career on and off the battlefield.
Q: In your memoir, you mentioned that you were looking out for spies at the age of 8. Have you always known that you wanted to be a war reporter?
A: No. I was looking out for spies at that age because the war was just over, and the kids at the time were reading about spies in our magazines. I never had an idea of being a war reporter, but the BBC at that time had a much smaller group of reporters than it has today, and one day a war breaks out and if you are the reporter nearest to Heathrow Airport you get on the plane. If you do OK and do not get scooped, because it is very competitive, and you do not shout at the head office, they will send you to cover another war. In about 30 years, I discovered I was doing nothing else but wars. It was something that happened to me.
Q: You emphasize the importance of never entering “no man’s land” — tell us about that.
A: No man’s land is that section of territory between two fighting forces. In principle, you do not go there because you can be shot at by either of them. I was once driving across the airport runway at Sarajevo, which was no-man’s land, and the car was hit. I wrote to Vauxhall afterward to thank them for making a tank without knowing it, as the bullets did not go through. If you are actually under fire it does not sound like the movies at all, it is more like the gentle plop of rain. At first, I did not realize we were under attack. I got across and was not wounded.
Q: You covered 18 wars — and, as you write in your memoir, “every reporter falls in love with one war.” Which one is most memorable and life-changing to you?
A: My love was Bosnia. It was a beautiful place. I also spent longer there than any of the other wars and this war ran for three-and-a-half years. I was there the day after it began, and I was there when it ended. I loved the people and the place and found it fascinating.
Q: Knowing that there was always a possibility that you might not come back from a war, what was the driver sending you to cover them?
A: You always know you are going to come back from a war. It is part of your defense mechanism. You are convinced that you will survive; otherwise, it drives you mad.
Q: Have you suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)?
A: I have asked myself that question, and probably denial is one of the symptoms. The only way to know what is going on in your subconscious mind is from your dreams. My dreams are all about losing my bags at Heathrow and sitting in the House of Commons, but I do not have war zone nightmares, so I think I am alright.
Q: In some instances of your book you sympathize with the plight of the Palestinians, and in others, you call Israel the counter-terrorist state. Through your fieldwork there, where do you stand on this issue today?
A: I think I fell for the David and Goliath myth at first. Now I am very critical of Israel and I do not want to set foot there ever again. Their use of cluster ammunitions in south Lebanon was a war crime.
Q: What is the real role of a journalist?
A: You tell people what is happening. I am very alarmed by the rise of fake news ... there is this attempt to throw sand in our eyes and I think it is very alarming.
Q: The title of your last book is “War and the Death of News.” Do you really think that news is dead?
A: Along with the rise of fake news, I am also very worried about the rise of celebrity and superficial news. News organizations are not covering the world enough. You almost see nothing on Africa nowadays, for example. Technology tells them, as they can measure the hits on their website that those items get the most readers.
Q: What was it like transitioning from a journalist to an MP?
A: It was quite easy in some ways because I knew how to handle the press. I was able to use my relative notoriety to make waves during parliamentary sessions.
Q: Why the white suit?
A: Superstition. They put me back into military uniform after I had left the army for 34 years to head out to Kuwait to cover the Gulf war in 1991 as an embedded journalist. When it was over, because we had to dig our own trenches, I was so relieved and decided that in the next war I was going to cover it as a civilian. The next war was in June 1991, the Croatian war. I had been wearing a white suit then and we had no body armor and no protection of any kind, and so many bullets flying past me. I associated my survival with the white suit. However, it later became quite a useful recognition device. There are so many journalists out there, and I became the British reporter in the white suit. It set me apart from other reporters, which was quite useful.
• This story was originally published in Asharq Al-Awsat
The man in the white suit: From war reporter to politician
The man in the white suit: From war reporter to politician
