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Their sacrifice to find the truth

Ellis Henican

March 19, 2006

Reporters got killed in World War II. Reporters were killed in Vietnam.

No one goes off to cover a war without a basic understanding: It's a dangerous business. People die. Even those who aren't there fighting for either side. Even those whose only battle plan is telling the truth.

But no conflict in modern history has been deadlier for journalists than the war in Iraq is turning out to be. Never before have so many news-gatherers been targeted so directly.

Three years in, 67 journalists have been killed on duty in the war in Iraq. That's the count of the Committee to Protect Journalists, a group that's been extraordinarily busy these days. To the 67 we should add 24 media-support people who also gave their lives to the cause of telling the truth.

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And the perils of covering Iraq don't end there. Thirty-nine journalists have been kidnapped. There's been a real kidnapping surge since last year.

Countless others have been maimed, wounded, tortured, manhandled, threatened and forced to work in conditions that leave them vulnerable to the gravest of harm 24 hours a day.

Their sacrifices - and those of their families, colleagues and friends - should not be forgotten as we pause this weekend to commemorate the third anniversary of this ugly and messy war.

"Clearly, it has been a terrible war for journalists," David Schlesinger, global managing editor at Reuters, the international news service, was saying at week's end.

"Iraq has been such an anarchic situation. There aren't clearly delineated lines. It's very difficult to know what a safe vantage point can be."

Schlesinger was sounding downright reflective for a news-service executive. But he's learned these lessons the hard way. He's lost four journalists in Iraq. No news organization has lost more except for the Iraq Media Network (6) and Al-Arabiya (5).

"As a rule," Schlesinger said, "journalists don't like reporting on themselves. We are a profession that exists to report on other people. We are always a bit awkward talking about ourselves. But now we must."

The injury of an ABC News anchor may get bigger headlines. But the Reuters four were a more typical mix of the journalists being killed in Iraq. A Ukrainian, a Palestinian and two Iraqis.

As the U.S.-led invasion gave way to a prolonged occupation, more and more of the dangerous coverage has been done by reporters who are not Americans. Many of them are Iraqis, covering their own nation for us. They have taken the worst of the casualties.

"Because it has become such a dangerous place, news organizations do rely on Iraqi staffers," Schlesinger said. "These journalists get caught up in their own country's sectarian violence. Their presence has also created potential conflicts with the U.S. military, which has had a difficult and slow time accepting that Iraqis have been professional and objective journalists."

And then there are the kidnappings. Jill Carroll, held since Jan. 7, is only the latest and most publicized.

"That threat has affected everyone's coverage," Schlesinger said. "We talk about safety all the time. We do special training. Because of the danger of being caught up in sectarian violence or being kidnapped, we have to have these very rigid restrictions on how people work."

This weekend, outside Reuters headquarters in Times Square, the names and images of the 67 journalists killed in Iraq will scroll nonstop across the 7,000-square-foot electronic sign. Given their sacrifice, it's a small gesture - but a fitting one.

"It's a tribute to journalists from all organizations who have died in the conflict," David Schlesinger said. "This cuts beyond competition. We are very aware of the sacrifices people make personally, the sacrifices families make in order to tell the story, in order to tell the truth. This is something that affects the entire industry, the entire world as well."