With the massive bombing phase of the U.S.-led war against Iraq now three weeks old, it is worth reflecting on the dirty work carried out by America's own Ministry of Propaganda: the mainstream American press.
The war is far from over, and already Iraqi civilian casualties number over 1000, with the more numerous wounded suffering agonizing pain as they are operated on without anesthetics (denied them by U.S.-backed economic sanctions). American claims of humanitarian intent play well for domestic audiences, but are not believable, given continued American use of cluster bombs and depleted uranium. The unexploded "bomblets" from cluster munitions exact an incredible toll, primarily on children, while depleted uranium is responsible for soaring rates of cancer in countries where it has been used.
Nor is it credible that Bush, Powell and the rest did not know this war would bring such suffering for Iraqis. The real problem is that whether other human beings -- thousands of them -- live or die is not something that strikes our president as something that should not be his choice to make. So much for Bush's "deeply held" (for public relations purposes) religious beliefs, which instruct that this is something reserved for God alone.
This attitude is reflected in the oft-handed comments of American Sergeant Schrumpf, as reported by the New York Times: "We had a great day. We killed a lot of people. ...We dropped a few civilians, but what do you do?" After all, it was not his fault that, "The chick was in the way."
It stands to reason that there would be a need on the battlefield to rationalize, as Schrumpf does, one's decision to take the lives of others. If Bush et al. are to have their war, then the American press must carry out the same task domestically, hiding the realities of U.S. aggression from the public.
First, the media reestablish our own moral credentials by prominently displaying whatever evidence can be produced of our supposed humanitarian intentions. One technique is to dramatically show pictures of Iraqis receiving clean water from American troops. That these things were so long denied them by primarily U.S.-sponsored sanctions is not important -- and nor should we worry that supplies provided by America and Britain are but a fraction of what is needed, or that the White House is busily constructing a plan for Iraqis to pay for their own humanitarian aid. What really matters are the touching photos.
Press accounts are replete with similar examples of the charity of American troops, who manage to interpret the "third-world sign language" of simple Iraqis. The Times observes desperate, begging Iraqis with all the pleasure of the master at his newly trained dog. "The smartest ones waved Iraqi dinars bearing images of Saddam Hussein." How clever of them -- and gratifying for us!
When Iraqis disappoint us by failing to "dance in the streets" at the sudden appearance of a new form of repression, we can at least be reminded of the barbarity of the opponent. CNN was just as outraged as U.S. Gen. Richard Myers at Iraq's refusal to allow the Red Cross to visit American POW's. Such behavior is certainly a gross violation of humanitarian law -- although it is hard to see how Iraq's refusal is any different from American treatment of prisoners at Guantanamo Bay or from Israel's identical refusal to allow the Red Cross into Jenin at this time last year.
But how does the media handle incidents such as last week's murder of seven Iraqis, who did not slow down for an (illegal) U.S. checkpoint in time? Most major outlets, with the lone exception of the Washington Post, omitted the crucial detail that no warning shot had been fired, therefore making U.S. actions seem less criminal than they were.
The catastrophe prompted elaborate apologetics in the mainstream press. The Times in an editorial drew parallels to the infamous My Lai massacre in Vietnam, sadly noting that American troops may find themselves behaving in Iraq just as they did at My Lai -- not out of any "bad intentions," but, "of the fury of frightened young American men who were no longer able to distinguish between innocent civilians and hostile forces."
This indeed is a remarkable revision of history, given what actually happened at My Lai: the more than 200 inhabitants of the village were rounded into the town's center and summarily machine-gunned to death. If the agenda-setting Times thinks that My Lai was simply an example of a completely understandable failure to "distinguish between innocent civilians and hostile forces," what chances are there for honest reporting from Iraq?
Robert Fisk sourly reflects on his experiences reporting on wars: "In Libya in 1986, I remember how American reporters would repeatedly cross-question the wounded: had they perhaps been hit by shrapnel from their own antiaircraft fire? Again, in 1991, "we' asked the Iraqi wounded the same question. And yesterday, a doctor found himself asked by a British radio reporter -- yes, you've guessed it -- "Do you think, doctor, that some of these people could have been hit by Iraqi antiaircraft fire?'"
As the saying goes, the first casualty of war is truth. And one inadmissible truth in the U.S. media is that if we launch a war against another country, then that war's casualties are nobody's fault but our own.
Jeremy Tully can be reached at jtully@jhunewsletter.com.
