The First Casualty – Ch. 21
Literature Review
April 15, 2008
Julia Stern

"Despite scouring two national newspapers every day, listening to the radio, surfing the web and watching the TV news, I have absolutely no idea how the war is going" (527).

Phillip Knightley begins the final chapter of his book, The First Casualty, with this sentiment of irony and dissatisfaction regarding media coverage of the current war in Iraq, as expressed by a British reader in a 2003 Letter to the Editor of The Guardian. In an age when the media has assumed such a ubiquitous presence in viewers’ daily lives, the issue of assessing the truth and accuracy of news coverage becomes ever more crucial – and perhaps less easily discernible – as we are consistently inundated with compelling images, live footage, and “expert” commentary on the latest wartime events. In the case of the current war in Iraq – the U.S. now entering its fifth year of engagement – and the Pentagon’s broader concept of the “War on Terror,” Knightley points to the media’s unprecedented efforts to make this “the most thoroughly reported war of modern times” (528),equipped with the technological capacity to deliver 24-hour coverage, and inclined to embed reporters within military units so that the news we see would (in theory) come “directly from amidst the troops in the field: ‘the best representatives to convey America’s intentions and capabilities’” (528, 531). Yet, as is illustrated in this chapter with a critical assessment of news coverage since the onset of the war in 2003, Knightley sets out to prove – successfully, it seems – that often, and sometimes intentionally so, “the first casualty when war comes, is [the] truth.”

As we learned from our recent discussion with the Eisenhower Series generals describing their varied interactions with the military and the media, there are many different (often conflicting) interests – political, corporate, humanitarian, and individual – involved in determining what is ultimately reported to the public during wartime. In Chapter 21 of The First Casualty, Knightly focuses specifically on the Pentagon and its recent policies in Iraq concerning media coverage, seriously calling into question the morality of several calculated actions employed by the U.S. government to control the content of information ultimately disseminated. He describes the series of events which drove Bryan Whitman, Deputy Secretary of Defense, to construct the current “American media plan,” originating in 1999 with U.S. involvement in NATO’s campaign against Yugoslavia, and continuing into 2002 with the U.S. bombing of several targets in Afghanistan (529). Because there were remarkably few deaths on which to report from the American side, the western media, by default, turned toward “the enemy” to portray the civilian casualties and widespread devastation inflicted by American bombs abroad. So as to avoid another situation in which America risked losing public support for its military campaigns – especially in light of the impending decision to declare war on Iraq – Whitman devised a plan to portray the U.S. military in a just and humane light.

Thus began the system of “embedding” journalists within a military unit, infusing them with the spirit of solidarity (offering them food, shelter, uniforms, even honorary officer’s rank), and providing them pre-censored, pre-scripted, “‘ready-for-air’ package[s]” of “sanitized” news to report to the rest of the world (534, 541). New York Magazine writer Michael Wolff reveals that while reporting on the war, "I realised that every day you got to know less and less so that by the end of your stay you'd know absolutely nothing" (535). When he finally put his briefing officer on the spot and questioned the purpose of the U.S. occupation, and the instructional value of “this multi-million dollar press center,” Wolff claims to have been denounced as a “traitor,” and told to go home (534).

For many of those “unilateral” correspondents that chose not comply with the stringent protocol of the Pentagon and Ministry of Defense – instead reporting independently from the Iraqi side – Knightley cites the dramatic responses elicited against them by U.S. officials, including the barring of certain networks from broadcasting their reports, and actually firing missiles and killing suspected “enemy” journalists (whose reports might “fuel anti-American sentiment”) (538). While he does not specify the time span for these figures, Knightley notes that within a short period, fifteen international correspondents were killed by the American military and two wounded (although this has not been confirmed as a deliberate act of the U.S. government).

“Welcome to the new and highly dangerous world of the war correspondent in the twenty-first century,” Knightley declares, calling attention to the reality that unless reporters deliver the stories pre-approved by the administration, they potentially put at risk their jobs, and even their lives (537). He likens President Bush’s foreign policy mantra, "You're either with us or against us," to the administration’s attitude toward managing the activity of war correspondents (537). One thing I found particularly disturbing, was the cavalier, "who cares" attitude of the U.S. military toward the wellbeing of unilateral reporters, simply stating “they’ve been warned,” in reference to those who perished in the 2002 bombing of the al-Jazeera compound in Kabul—a move which U.S. officials deemed justified, as they believed the compound to be “the location of significant al-Qaeda activity” (which was only, in actuality, standard interviews with select Taliban leaders) (538).

In addition to highlighting the efforts of the U.S. government to conceal from the public any piece of potentially unfavorable publicity – or, as one al-Jazeera cameraman observed, to perpetuate a “war without witnesses” (539) – Knightley also describes America’s desire to convey its “awe-inspiring military might” to the rest of the world, and in so doing garner public support for current or future military campaigns (527). Knightley suggests that the portrayal of events is often manipulated by propagandists, so as to quite literally “sell” the war to the American public and their allies abroad. He cites the example of Private Jessica Lynch as a particularly egregious commercialization and distortion of facts, as the story of her rescue inspired a whole collection of “America Loves Jessica” paraphernalia, music, and a book deal. As observed by the BBC’s Simon Wren, instead of covering the events actually transpiring on the battlefield, the American news media was completely devoted to profiling this “fallen hero,” whose experience as an “abused” prisoner of war (which was later revealed to be embellished by the Pentagon) served only to strengthen the U.S. cause in continuing its mission in Iraq (545). It is Knightley’s intention to blow the whistle on this manipulation of the facts, calling on war correspondents to accept some responsibility in concealing the true story. Yet I wonder how even the reporters involved could have known the extent to which the government was spinning these events.

Perhaps this is a naive assumption, but conventional wisdom suggests that the more information you have, the more informed (of the truth) you will be. In an age when war correspondents have in some cases “developed the status of a pop star” from appearing on camera so often – T-shirts and taglines to boot – it is easy to get swept up in the media machine and believe everything they report, especially when they play to the human emotions of patriotism, comradeship, and love of a hero (as with the story of Private Jessica Lynch). Yet if this reporting is completely pre-calculated and one-sided, the increase in its ubiquity means nothing in the way of truth.

At times I found myself questioning the objectivity of some of Knightley’s claims regarding the U.S. government, simply because such dishonest, evasive policies seemed too unbelievable to be true. Yet in addition to his own opinions, Knightley’s inclusion of the testimonials and firsthand experiences of several war correspondents (i.e. the common feeling of being told by the military, “You can write what you like—but if we don’t like it we’ll shoot you” (537)), lent validity to his claims against the Pentagon’s meticulous “hand-outs” and “sound-bites” to manage the way the war would unfold before our eyes (542).

Kinghtley states in the Preface to this edition of his book, his intention "to challenge journalists to examine their own role in the promotion of war and urge them to consider the burden they bear...for what happens next" (xiii). Having read The First Casualty for myself, I believe that the onus of thoughtful criticism must also be extended to the public – the actual consumers of news media – who can choose to either accept or reject which truth, which "version of history" is in fact reported to us (544).

References
Knightley, Phillip. The First Casualty: The War Correspondent as Hero and Myth-Maker from the Crimea to Iraq. 3rd ed. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2004.

Eisenhower Series College Program. Class Presentation. Watson Institute, Brown University. Providence, RI. 2 Apr. 2008.