traveling back to Bahrain after covering the U.S. Air Force pilots flying over Afghanistan from Kuwaiti bases during Operation Enduring Freedom. Then, I had been asked only for my passport and U.S. military identity card, and had been amused when a Kuwaiti customs official dryly observed, âItâs nice to see that you are traveling on your own passport these days, Colonel North.â
Back in the 1980s, when I served as the United States governmentâs counter-terrorism coordinator, I had been issued a U.S. passport with the name William P. Goode next to my picture and an Irish passport under the name of John Clancy. Whether the Kuwaiti official had remembered or a computer warning entry had alerted him to the fact, I had been reassured that by 2001, my prior use of âaliasâ travel documents wasnât reason enough to have me miss my flight.
Tonight itâs a different problem. Without the appropriate Ministry of Information official on hand, no American media representatives are being allowed to enter Kuwait. The people of the tiny, oil-rich emirate may be grateful to us for liberating their country in 1991, but that gratitude doesnât extend to members of Americaâs fourth estate.
The Kuwaitis arenât alone in their distrust of the American media. Most of our own military have a justifiable concern that the decision to embed reporters with U.S. units preparing for combat is unwise at best and a formula for disaster at worst. Many senior NCOs (non-commissioned officers) and officers can still vividly recall how the media turned on them in Vietnam, and since then, the less they have to do with the press, the better off they feel.
âThink about it,â a Marine colonel challenged me before I left the States. âIf you were a battalion commander in combat, would youwant a guy with a TV camera and a live mike walking around talking to privates and PFCs?â I had to admit to him that I wouldnât.
âDo you remember the bogus CNN âTailwindâ story?â an Army brigadier had responded when I asked him about his attitude toward having print and broadcast journalists traveling with front-line units and filing uncensored reports. âThey [CNN and Time magazine] created that story out of whole cloth,â he said of the discredited and now admittedly false account that U.S. forces had used sarin, a nerve agent, in Vietnam in an attempt to gas American deserters. CNN first broadcast the story on June 7, 1998, only to retract it a month later, but I could sense that the wound was still raw. The brigadier shook his head and muttered, âThere wasnât a shred of truth to âTailwind,â but weâre still answering the mail on that one. Just imagine the stories of atrocities, needless casualties, and bungled ops your pals in the media will spin from Iraq.â
These thoughts are much on my mind when the appropriate Kuwaiti official finally arrives and carefully peruses a long printout of âapprovedâ media representatives. He finds my name on the list and, with a flourish, slams a hand stamp with purple ink on my passport, my visa, and a âspecial mediaâ pass.
As I walk out of the airportâs customs-and-immigration restricted area, my field producer, Griff Jenkins, who flew to Kuwait several days earlier, greets me. Iâm introduced to another Ministry of Information official, who hands me a sheaf of papers explaining, in several languages, the rules of behavior for âguest journalists,â along with suggestions for a âhistorical perspectiveâ on the region. As he drops us at the Marriott Hotel in downtown Kuwait City, he politely says, âWelcome back to Kuwait, Colonel North.â Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds with a smile, âPlease remember, correspondents arenât allowed to be armed.â
As we enter the hotel, dawn is just beginning to insinuate itself over the Persian Gulf. In a
Back in the 1980s, when I served as the United States governmentâs counter-terrorism coordinator, I had been issued a U.S. passport with the name William P. Goode next to my picture and an Irish passport under the name of John Clancy. Whether the Kuwaiti official had remembered or a computer warning entry had alerted him to the fact, I had been reassured that by 2001, my prior use of âaliasâ travel documents wasnât reason enough to have me miss my flight.
Tonight itâs a different problem. Without the appropriate Ministry of Information official on hand, no American media representatives are being allowed to enter Kuwait. The people of the tiny, oil-rich emirate may be grateful to us for liberating their country in 1991, but that gratitude doesnât extend to members of Americaâs fourth estate.
The Kuwaitis arenât alone in their distrust of the American media. Most of our own military have a justifiable concern that the decision to embed reporters with U.S. units preparing for combat is unwise at best and a formula for disaster at worst. Many senior NCOs (non-commissioned officers) and officers can still vividly recall how the media turned on them in Vietnam, and since then, the less they have to do with the press, the better off they feel.
âThink about it,â a Marine colonel challenged me before I left the States. âIf you were a battalion commander in combat, would youwant a guy with a TV camera and a live mike walking around talking to privates and PFCs?â I had to admit to him that I wouldnât.
âDo you remember the bogus CNN âTailwindâ story?â an Army brigadier had responded when I asked him about his attitude toward having print and broadcast journalists traveling with front-line units and filing uncensored reports. âThey [CNN and Time magazine] created that story out of whole cloth,â he said of the discredited and now admittedly false account that U.S. forces had used sarin, a nerve agent, in Vietnam in an attempt to gas American deserters. CNN first broadcast the story on June 7, 1998, only to retract it a month later, but I could sense that the wound was still raw. The brigadier shook his head and muttered, âThere wasnât a shred of truth to âTailwind,â but weâre still answering the mail on that one. Just imagine the stories of atrocities, needless casualties, and bungled ops your pals in the media will spin from Iraq.â
These thoughts are much on my mind when the appropriate Kuwaiti official finally arrives and carefully peruses a long printout of âapprovedâ media representatives. He finds my name on the list and, with a flourish, slams a hand stamp with purple ink on my passport, my visa, and a âspecial mediaâ pass.
As I walk out of the airportâs customs-and-immigration restricted area, my field producer, Griff Jenkins, who flew to Kuwait several days earlier, greets me. Iâm introduced to another Ministry of Information official, who hands me a sheaf of papers explaining, in several languages, the rules of behavior for âguest journalists,â along with suggestions for a âhistorical perspectiveâ on the region. As he drops us at the Marriott Hotel in downtown Kuwait City, he politely says, âWelcome back to Kuwait, Colonel North.â Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds with a smile, âPlease remember, correspondents arenât allowed to be armed.â
As we enter the hotel, dawn is just beginning to insinuate itself over the Persian Gulf. In a
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