The invisible war
By Arieh O'Sullivan Jerusalem Post, 5.6.00

Today's armies have become professional spin doctors, keeping the media
busy with what the government wants reported. Photo By Ariel Jerozolimski/The
Jerusalem Post
(June 4) -- How much of the recent
saturation coverage of Lebanon actually described what was happening across the
border? Not much, says Arieh O'Sullivan, who explains how the IDF succeeded in
controlling the flow of information. --
At the Fatma crossing point north of Metulla late one night 2 weeks ago, about
half a dozen military reporters looked at each other sheepishly. A war was
going on and there they were, corralled with the rest of the ordinary reporters
and camera people from around the world.
There was a time when war correspondents would have been riding in the tanks
and armored personnel carriers, helmets crookedly on their heads, giving
eyewitness dispatches amid the smoke, explosions and fears.
"We didn't see a journalist the whole time we were in Lebanon," said
one dusty Golani trooper safely back in Israel. It was a mantra repeated by
nearly every soldier interviewed as they unloaded their gear.
The nature of the now-defunct security zone, a neat little place sealed off
from the north by a sophisticated and heavily patrolled border fence and
virtually impossible for an Israeli to reach, allowed the IDF to control
information that reached the public about the withdrawal.
For years, the images of the Hizbullah war against the IDF were supplied almost
solely by forces on both sides, without an objective middleman.
Hizbullah guerrillas would attack an IDF or South Lebanese Army convoy or
outposts by day and broadcast the footage by nightfall. The IDF caught on and
started releasing black-and-white video clips of precision-guided weapons
homing in on Katyusha launchers, terror squads, guerrilla bases, and so on.
The public saw each side only as it was hit. With access limited, no one except
the soldiers, guerrillas and victims on the ground really knew what was
happening in the security zone.
Military reporters were left no choice but to attend briefings arranged by the
IDF Spokesman, interview local residents and peer over the border fence. Not
all of them may have known this, but the role of the Israeli military reporter
has never been so restricted.
And Israeli reporters are not alone. Despite satellite phones, instant TV
links, digital photography, and the Internet, armies worldwide seem
increasingly able to control how wars are covered.
"Basically, the military has won its 150-year-battle with war
correspondents; journalists want to tell the public everything; the military's
attitude is: 'Tell them nothing till the war's over, then tell them who
won," wrote Phillip Knightley, author of The First Casualty: the War Correspondent
as Hero and Myth Maker.
"Defeated by the military, governments and spin doctors, war
correspondents now face an agonizing choice. If they can no longer be heroes,
do they want to continue as propagandists and myth makers, subservient to those
who wage the wars?" he asked.
DENIALS notwithstanding, the IDF's media strategy was one of control. It wanted
to control the pictures and set the agenda.
Retreat is not an easy product to market, but the IDF did a pretty good job by
severely restricting access and preventing reporters from supplying the
infamous "view from the field."
Lebanon had in fact become so difficult to cover that reporters started
breaking unwritten ground rules.
When access to troops was cut, Israel Radio's Carmela Menashe interviewed
soldiers without IDF permission and escort. (The soldiers were subsequently
punished). Army Radio's military reporter Gur Tzalal-Yehin, who wears a
uniform, actually sneaked into Marjayoun, much to the IDF's consternation.
Alon Ben-David, Channel 1's military reporter, had to resort to broadcasting
home videos made by a Golani soldier and supplied by a middleman.
"It was brilliant footage. How could I not use it? I was frustrated that
the IDF was not letting us in to interview the soldiers," Ben-David said.
The IDF appears to have adopted the doctrine that the Americans brilliantly
tested in the 1991 Gulf War and invasions of Grenada and Panama, then perfected
in Kosovo. Knightley described it thus:
1. Appear open, transparent and eager to help.
"Sure you can go into the security zone and interview soldiers," the
spokesman says and then adds the clincher: "as long as the security
situation allows it."
2. Never go in for summary repression or direct control.
"Drive along the border, go ahead. Photograph what you want."
But soldiers have been briefed that they face punishment if they talk to the
press. At one outpost, two armed field security officers chased me down and
tried to have me arrested for taking illegal photos. I was released half an
hour later when Kiryat Shmona police refused to arrive.
3. Nullify, rather than conceal, undesirable news.
"Sure the SLA's 70th battalion collapsed, but it was made up of Shi'ites
anyway. The other SLA battalions are much more stable."
4. Control emphasis rather than facts.
"We managed to destroy most of the tanks and artillery abandoned by the
SLA."
5. Balance bad news with good.
"IDF soldiers left the security zone without a scratch."
6. Lie outright only when certain that the lie will not be found out during the
course of the war.
"The pullback is still weeks away," Chief of General Staff Lt.-Gen.
Shaul Mofaz reportedly told political commentators on May 22, as orders were
filtering down telling troops to get ready to leave the next day.
THE IDF had made covering the withdrawal so difficult that reporters, desperate
for any access, were willing to cut a deal with the IDF and report on their
terms.
According to the IDF plan, a couple of journalists were to have been allowed
into a number of outposts before the withdrawal on a pool basis and escorted by
officers from the spokesman's unit, who would decide what they saw, when they
saw it and whom they spoke to.
It was also planned to let journalists into Marjayoun and the relatively safe
outpost of Shani during the pullout itself.
But matters came to a head in what was supposed to be an off-the-record
briefing with OC Northern Command Maj.-Gen. Gaby Ashkenazi on May 19.
The gruff, Golani-bred general is not particularly known for his love of
journalists, the safety of his soldiers is his supreme interest. It is a
commendable but anachronistic trait for a general in an army which says it has
learned to deal with the media.
After immense pressure from Mofaz and IDF Spokesman Brig.-Gen. Oded Ben-Ami,
Ashkenazi agreed to open up somewhat to journalists.
The briefing ended up in a shouting match. Ashkenazi was critical of Channel
1's Ben-David for speculating on the air that the IDF was about to withdraw
from the outpost at Reihan. After the broadcast, Hizbullah began to heavily
shell the position and a number of soldiers were wounded.
During the ensuing discussion, Ron Ben-Yishai, who as a journalist was
decorated for bravery for treating wounded soldiers under heavy Egyptian fire
when he was covering the Yom Kippur War, sided with the general and wrote later
that reporting IDF movements in Lebanon actually endangered lives.
A long-time military correspondent, Ben-Yishai's views echoed those of others
of his generation who sometimes blur the line between objective reporter and
what some have called a "shofar" for the defense establishment. It is
a work hazard particular to the military beat here.
THE IDF's concerns are not without basis. Boaz Ganor, an expert on Hizbullah
from the Interdisciplinary Center in Herzliya, said that the guerrilla group
uses the Israeli media to collect information, particularly on the country's
morale.
"Perhaps the best intelligence it can gather on the morale of the
residents of the North, of the soldiers, etc. comes from the media and not
other sources," Ganor told Israel Radio.
Some in the IDF view the media as yet another weapon in its arsenal, to be used
to supply disinformation to the enemy. If false or misleading information
causes the enemy damage, what's wrong with that?
"From the point of view of a security person there is nothing wrong with
it. But you have to remember that we are talking about a long-term relationship
between the media and the defense establishment. If you cause a credibility
crisis then true things, or things you want to reach the press, will be treated
differently," Ganor said.
Sources in IDF Field Security have said they have planted false stories in the
press, but these have been restricted to the IDF magazine Bamahaneh.
IDF Spokesman Oded Ben-Ami vehemently denied his office puts out
disinformation.
"I was never prepared under any circumstances to be part of any process of
disinformation, manipulation [of the media] or psychological warfare,"
said Ben-Ami, a former Israel Radio and television reporter.
"There were from time to time thoughts like this and I totally rejected
them. The IDF Spokesman can never be viewed as one who does not give the
absolute truth."
THE IDF Spokesman's Office is no novice in preparing for military operations in
Lebanon. Operation Accountability in 1993 and 1996's Operation Grapes of Wrath
were meticulously planned, scripted by senior information officers to flood the
media with so much information that the media would be focused on just relaying
and not necessarily critiquing - until it was too late.
Prior to both operations, the IDF briefed selected opinion makers who were
expected to be called upon by the media for their analysis, said one former
senior officer involved.
In both previous operations, video footage of bombing runs was rushed to press
conferences, maps were prepared for both TV and newspapers and announcements
were prewritten. Pilots and artillerymen were presented for interviews to
further saturate the media.
The idea was to set the agenda for 24 to 48 hours so by the time the media
recovered and started focusing on the hundreds of thousands of refugees fleeing
toward Beirut, the story would no longer be leading international news reports.
The IDF Spokesman's Office perfected the power of live broadcast. It was only
afterwards that the media felt they had been manipulated.
Ironically, Operation Grapes of Wrath was supposed to be a bloodless conflict
based on precision-guided weapons destroying enemy installations, but the IDF
Spokesman's plans were thrown into disarray after Israeli artillery killed over
100 civilians in Kafr Kana and the spin doctors had to shift into a defensive
mode.
It planned for the Lebanon withdrawal similarly, beginning work on the unilateral
withdrawal operation, dubbed Orech Ruah ("Stamina") in mid-March.
It intended to set up a media center in Metulla, arrange interviews with
soldiers and supply film from choppers and perhaps unmanned aerial vehicles.
Divisional commanders briefed reporters and Ashkenazi was persuaded to give
daily briefings.
But last Sunday, events in Lebanon began to unfold in a way that senior IDF
commanders admitted they hadn't foreseen. Under the volatile collapse of the
SLA, the army scrapped any plans they had to open the border to journalists.
THE WITHDRAWAL'S sheer haste also caught the foreign press unprepared. The
bureau chiefs of the three major news agencies - Reuters, the Associated Press,
and Agence France-Presse - were out of the country and it was all over by the
time they got here.
Many of the foreign press based here traveled to Lebanon to cover the story
from that side. On that frontier there were no restrictions, but there were
risks.
Veteran BBC reporter Jeremy Bowen narrowly escaped injury after an SLA tank,
according to the IDF Spokesman, fired on the car he had just gotten out of. The
driver was killed.
Eyal Alima, the military reporter for Israel Radio's Arabic news, said the IDF
would have preferred to put out a notice when the retreat was over and done
with - which is nearly what happened.
"The army's thinking was: the less reporting done the better and no
photographs except at the border," Alima said. "We could hit our
heads against the wall, but that is what we got."
The IDF media center in Metulla was supposed to offer NATO-style briefings
based on the Kosovo conflict, a difficult task considering that no matter what
the spin, the story was of an army in retreat.
This raised another question about the story. Did the Israeli public really
want to hear it?
"No one really cares about south Lebanon. They don't give a damn about the
people there. They just want our boys out and want it to happen safely,"
said Alan Ben-Ami, the veteran military correspondent for Israel Radio's English
News.
PERHAPS the truth is sadder than that.
According to Knightley, "government propaganda prepares its citizens for
war so skillfully that it is quite likely that they do not want the truthful,
objective and balanced reporting that hero war correspondents once did their
best to provide."
Filmmaker Haim Tal, who made a critically acclaimed documentary series on
military reporters called A Short Military Memory, eulogized the military
correspondents, saying they have become - again - clients of the defense
establishment.
"After the Yom Kippur War, they broke down and swore that none of them
would let the establishment anesthetize them," he said.
But in fact, he said, much the same lax attitude prevailed among military
reporters with regard to Lebanon.
"This wasn't a year or two but a long period of time. From 1995 till 1998
there was not one military reporter or analyst who described the true situation
there," Tal said.
"I am not blaming the reporters. I only claim that there is a situation
where nothing significant comes under discussion and instead the media go on
looking for their little scoops.
"The IDF wants to be in control," Tal said. "On one hand you
can't argue over the content, everyone knows what the IDF is. But I am always
astonished when the IDF Spokesman wraps it up in cellophane and tries to sell
it. And people buy it and say, 'Hey, look, how nice.'"