“THE PEN & THE SWORD”
WASHINGTON, D.C. -- In the play, Richelieu,
Edward Bulwer-Lytton, the English novelist and
playwright, wrote, "the pen is mightier
than the sword." Were Lord Lytton alive
today, he would likely concede that the pen
has been supplanted by a television camera --
and swords by lethal projectiles and explosives.
But it's doubtful that the author would have
claimed that those who use pens -- or cameras
for that matter -- were more important than
those who wield the weapons. Yet that seems
to be the way it is today for those who fight
in, and cover, the war in Iraq.
Earlier this week when ABC's Bob Woodruff and
his cameraman Doug Vogt were badly wounded by
an improvised explosive device (IED) near Taji,
Iraq, the incident was instantly reported on
every network and news wire. The following morning
it was front-page news in every major newspaper.
The course of the two men's treatment, their
evacuation -- first to a field hospital in Iraq,
then to Landstuhl, Germany, and finally to the
National Naval Medical Center at Bethesda, Maryland
-- has been detailed on TV, talk-radio, in news
magazines and Internet blogs. In the aftermath,
the incident has been cited as "proof"
that the war is going badly.
On Monday night, CNN's "Chief Foreign
Correspondent" Christiane Amanpour told
the number two news network's Larry King that
the war in Iraq "has basically turned out
to be a disaster, and journalists have paid
for it, paid for the privilege of witnessing
and reporting that and so have many, many other
people who have been there." She then continued,
"… for some reason, which I can't
fathom, the kind of awful thing that's going
on there now on a daily basis has almost become
humdrum. So, when something happens to people
that we identify, like Bob and like Doug, we
wake up again and realize that, no, this is
not acceptable, what's going on there, and it's
a terrible situation."
Statements like these -- so full of self-importance
and clearly made to advance a political perspective,
obscure important facts. They also illuminate
some very unflattering aspects about the modern
"news business."
All but ignored in the "noise" was
the poignant and extraordinarily sensitive statement
of Bob Woodruff's wife Lee: "We realize
that our family is going through something that
thousands of military families have experienced
over the last three years since the war began
and throughout our history. Bob's name may be
more recognizable, but his story is no more
important. He would be the first to insist that
the attention should be focused on the members
of the U.S. military whose heroic actions he
has reported on for years."
Lee Woodruff has it exactly right. That's what
those who cover young Americans serving in harm's
way are supposed to do: document events as they
happen; prepare a "first draft of history;"
file accurate reports -- no self-inflated hubris,
no polemics.
War reporting is an inherently dangerous business.
According to the Committee to Protect Journalists,
61 members of the media have been killed in
Iraq since March 2003. But this war cannot be
properly covered from the balconies of hotels
in the "Green Zone" or by regurgitating
press releases prepared by overworked public
affairs officers. That's why Woodruff and Vogt
were standing up in the back of an armored vehicle
when that IED exploded. To get the story right
-- on film, videotape or newsprint -- they had
to be where the action is. It has always been
that way.
During World War II, Ernie Pyle's column --
a foxhole fighter's perspective on the war --
was avidly read in 400 daily newspapers and
300 weeklies -- because it was the real thing.
After covering most of the European campaign,
he went to the Pacific Theater and was killed
by a Japanese bullet on April 18, 1945, during
the invasion of Ie Shima, a tiny island off
Okinawa, Japan.
Joe Rosenthal would never have captured the
picture of those five Marines and a Navy Corpsmen
straining to raise that flag atop Mount Suribachi
if he hadn't gone ashore into the carnage called
Iwo Jima in February of '45.
Joe Galloway was a young UPI reporter/photographer
"embedded" with Hal Moore's under-strength
battalion when they were helo-lifted into Vietnam's
Ia Drang valley on Nov. 14, 1965. His stirring
chronicle of that three-day battle against three
North Vietnamese Army regiments could never
have been drafted from a desk in Saigon.
None of these journalists tried to make themselves
the centerpiece of the story. Neither did Woodruff
or Vogt -- though others have done so. Though
they all faced life-threatening peril, none
of them ever crowed, as Dan Rather once proclaimed
to Larry King, "danger is my business."
None of them gave evidence that they considered
themselves to be more important than the soldiers,
sailors, airmen Guardsmen and Marines they were
covering. All seemingly heeded another of Edward
Bulwer-Lytton's pithy comments: "One of
the sublimest things in the world is plain truth."
And unlike Amanpour, they all reported facts
-- not opinions.
To find out more about Oliver
North, and read features by other Creators Syndicate
writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators
Syndicate web page at www.creators.com.
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