“The Fog Machine of War”
Chelsea Manning on the U.S. Military and Media Freedom
June 14, 2014 by Chelsea Manning
FORT
LEAVENWORTH, Kan. — WHEN I chose to disclose classified information in
2010, I did so out of a love for my country and a sense of duty to
others. I’m now serving a sentence of 35 years in prison for these
unauthorized disclosures. I understand that my actions violated the law.
However,
the concerns that motivated me have not been resolved. As Iraq erupts
in civil war and America again contemplates intervention, that
unfinished business should give new urgency to the question of how the
United States military controlled the media coverage of its long
involvement there and in Afghanistan. I believe that the current limits
on press freedom and excessive government secrecy make it impossible for
Americans to grasp fully what is happening in the wars we finance.
A
supporter of Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki protested in Baghdad on
March 26, 2010, with a poster depicting inked fingers being hanged and
alleging voter fraud in Iraq’s general election. Credit Ahmad
Al-Rubaye/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images
If
you were following the news during the March 2010 elections in Iraq,
you might remember that the American press was flooded with stories
declaring the elections a success, complete with upbeat anecdotes and
photographs of Iraqi women proudly displaying their ink-stained fingers.
The subtext was that United States military operations had succeeded in
creating a stable and democratic Iraq.
Those of us stationed there were acutely aware of a more complicated reality.
Military
and diplomatic reports coming across my desk detailed a brutal
crackdown against political dissidents by the Iraqi Ministry of Interior
and federal police, on behalf of Prime Minister Nuri Kamal al-Maliki.
Detainees were often tortured, or even killed.
Early
that year, I received orders to investigate 15 individuals whom the
federal police had arrested on suspicion of printing “anti-Iraqi
literature.” I learned that these individuals had absolutely no ties to
terrorism; they were publishing a scholarly critique of Mr. Maliki’s
administration. I forwarded this finding to the officer in command in
eastern Baghdad. He responded that he didn’t need this information;
instead, I should assist the federal police in locating more
“anti-Iraqi” print shops.
I
was shocked by our military’s complicity in the corruption of that
election. Yet these deeply troubling details flew under the American
media’s radar.
It
was not the first (or the last) time I felt compelled to question the
way we conducted our mission in Iraq. We intelligence analysts, and the
officers to whom we reported, had access to a comprehensive overview of
the war that few others had. How could top-level decision makers say
that the American public, or even Congress, supported the conflict when
they didn’t have half the story?
Among
the many daily reports I received via email while working in Iraq in
2009 and 2010 was an internal public affairs briefing that listed
recently published news articles about the American mission in Iraq. One
of my regular tasks was to provide, for the public affairs summary read
by the command in eastern Baghdad, a single-sentence description of
each issue covered, complementing our analysis with local intelligence.
The
more I made these daily comparisons between the news back in the States
and the military and diplomatic reports available to me as an analyst,
the more aware I became of the disparity. In contrast to the solid,
nuanced briefings we created on the ground, the news available to the
public was flooded with foggy speculation and simplifications.
One
clue to this disjunction lay in the public affairs reports. Near the
top of each briefing was the number of embedded journalists attached to
American military units in a combat zone. Throughout my deployment, I
never saw that tally go above 12. In other words, in all of Iraq, which
contained 31 million people and 117,000 United States troops, no more
than a dozen American journalists were covering military operations.
The
process of limiting press access to a conflict begins when a reporter
applies for embed status. All reporters are carefully vetted by military
public affairs officials. This system is far from unbiased.
Unsurprisingly, reporters who have established relationships with the
military are more likely to be granted access.
Less
well known is that journalists whom military contractors rate as likely
to produce “favorable” coverage, based on their past reporting, also
get preference. This outsourced “favorability” rating assigned to each
applicant is used to screen out those judged likely to produce critical
coverage.
Reporters
who succeeded in obtaining embed status in Iraq were then required to
sign a media “ground rules” agreement. Army public affairs officials
said this was to protect operational security, but it also allowed them
to terminate a reporter’s embed without appeal.
There
have been numerous cases of reporters’ having their access terminated
following controversial reporting. In 2010, the late Rolling Stone
reporter Michael Hastings had his access pulled after reporting
criticism of the Obama administration by Gen. Stanley A. McChrystal and
his staff in Afghanistan. A Pentagon spokesman said, “Embeds are a privilege, not a right.”
If
a reporter’s embed status is terminated, typically she or he is
blacklisted. This program of limiting press access was challenged in
court in 2013 by a freelance reporter, Wayne Anderson, who claimed to
have followed his agreement but to have been terminated after publishing
adverse reports about the conflict in Afghanistan. The ruling on his
case upheld the military’s position that there was no constitutionally
protected right to be an embedded journalist.
The
embedded reporter program, which continues in Afghanistan and wherever
the United States sends troops, is deeply informed by the military’s
experience of how media coverage shifted public opinion during the
Vietnam War. The gatekeepers in public affairs have too much power:
Reporters naturally fear having their access terminated, so they tend to
avoid controversial reporting that could raise red flags.
The
existing program forces journalists to compete against one another for
“special access” to vital matters of foreign and domestic policy. Too
often, this creates reporting that flatters senior decision makers. A
result is that the American public’s access to the facts is gutted,
which leaves them with no way to evaluate the conduct of American
officials.
Journalists
have an important role to play in calling for reforms to the embedding
system. The favorability of a journalist’s previous reporting should not
be a factor. Transparency, guaranteed by a body not under the control
of public affairs officials, should govern the credentialing process. An
independent board made up of military staff members, veterans, Pentagon
civilians and journalists could balance the public’s need for
information with the military’s need for operational security.
Reporters
should have timely access to information. The military could do far
more to enable the rapid declassification of information that does not
jeopardize military missions. The military’s Significant Activity
Reports, for example, provide quick overviews of events like attacks and
casualties. Often classified by default, these could help journalists
report the facts accurately.
Opinion
polls indicate that Americans’ confidence in their elected
representatives is at a record low. Improving media access to this
crucial aspect of our national life — where America has committed the
men and women of its armed services — would be a powerful step toward
re-establishing trust between voters and officials.
To provide support to Chelsea in prison, maximize her voice in the media, continue public education and build a powerful movement for presidential pardon we must raise another $120,000 this year.
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