LONDON, 24 March 2003 — Wars are dangerous. They can be as dangerous to the journalists trying to report them as for the soldiers who are fighting the battles. The apparent loss of an ITV crew in Iraq on Saturday night highlights the hazards which journalists know they are facing. And the incident shows that pictures being beamed back to us come at a price. Meanwhile I am relieved to be sitting this one out from Kirsty Young’s perch on Five News, which has given me a grandstand view of the television war — the war that the networks wage with each other, and (in the BBC’s case) with themselves. I expected to be critical of the reporting, on the grounds that “embedding” reporters with military units leads to over-censored, manipulated coverage.
Of course, that has abounded. Reporters know more than they are allowed to say, or are held back in rear areas while the decisive skirmishes occur ahead of them. But the access is better than it was 12 years ago; the censorship is being applied with a lighter touch; and the technology has made for much more vivid reporting.
I have been impressed by ITN’s excellent Bill Neely, the technical professionalism of Sky, the mass and weight of the BBC’s coverage and the skill and agility of Five News. All credit too to the correspondents and crews who have remained in Baghdad, with bombs exploding around them and their minders just over their shoulders.
The war lacks front-line coverage, with the exception of Baghdad. And what an exception! Friday night’s pictures, beamed across the world by Abu Dhabi television, brought us a close-up view of the most fearsome concentration of precision bombing in the history of warfare. I doubt if it won any converts to the cause.
Those who like a constant flow of news will see this as the rolling news services’ finest hour; those like myself who can’t stand them will note that they show more than they know. This stuff can be addictive and alarmist, and families with loved ones in Iraq would do well to steer clear of it.
Television’s access to the war, though censored and fragmentary, has been remarkable. The Americans in particular have been welcoming, I believe, not out of an unwavering faith in the freedom of the press, but because the coverage has a role in their psychological warfare. They have opened up their arsenals to the cameras. The displays of lethal gadgetry, from precision-guided missiles to the Moab bomb, were intended to intimidate the Iraqis. So were the explicit threats, like the Commander of the American Fifth Fleet, Vice Adm. Timothy Keating, telling the cheering crew of the USS Constellation, “Make no mistake. When the President says ‘Go’ it’s hammer time! OK? It’s hammer time!” The golden scenario was that the Iraqi high command would volunteer for regime change without a shot being fired. That never happened.
