More coverage of the War on Iraq:
In a Phoenix editorial, we recommend a deep breath. This war and its consequences are still unfolding.
Seth Gitell imagines how Senator John Kerry might frame a war debate against George W. Bush in the 2004 presidential election.
Dan Kennedy examines local coverage of the war.
Michael Bronski on the paradox of supporting our troops while practicing dissent.
David Valdes Greenwood attended last weekend’s peace rally in Boston and remarks on the maturation of the current protest movement.
Richard Byrne wonders if the bombings of propaganda outlets in Iraq---like the ones last weekend---are smart military tactics or a breach of the rules of war.
Notes from Northern Iraq
ON MARCH 29, in response to a request for comment, Boston Globe reporter David Filipov, who is covering the war from Northern Iraq, sent a long e-mail — plus two follow-ups — that are passionate, anguished, and funny. Some excerpts:
• On whether he would have stayed in Baghdad if he hadn’t been kicked out. That’s the hardest question anyone has asked me in a long time.
I felt as though it was a justifiable risk to try to stay for the bombing campaign, because the stories of what happens inside those campaigns need to be told.
But you know, most sensible people, when they cover these things, unless they are of the really gonzo war hack ilk, come up with a plan that would keep them close to the action but not commit them to staying in harm’s way should they decide to — or need to — get out.
In Baghdad, there was no way to plan like that. You knew you were either going to be in or out.
Sure, I had supplies, and without going into detail to protect people still there, safe places to be and an escape route that might have worked in case things got too ugly.
The planning was a comforting distraction, but I also knew my plans would have kept me safe for only about a week or two. The longer this thing stretches out, the more I realize that after a certain point I would have stopped being an effective reporter for a daily newspaper. So the short ending to this long answer is " for the first week, yes, as things drag on for weeks or months, I must say I’m not so sure. "
My family is unconditionally glad that I’m out.
• On his circuitous journey from Baghdad to Northern Iraq. Well, to recognize the true absurdity of the situation, look at a map, and see that I am now in Erbil perhaps a 2-3 hour drive (the way Iraqis drive!) from Baghdad.
I left Baghdad Friday, March 14, I believe. I drove to Amman, Jordan (stopped to interview an Iraqi operating an SA-9 antiaircraft battery in the desert, then nearly got in trouble at the Iraqi border for having an Arabic phrase book that included a map of Israel).
The Globe travel office booked me that Amman-Milan-Moscow ticket for early Saturday, so I spent a few hours in a hotel in Amman, writing stories and answering e-mails (my phone had been confiscated in Baghdad, so people were worried). Amman is such a nice place, especially when you compare it to some of the capitals around the region.
Then I flew. I had a visa for Iran that I had applied for in December. It took three months of haggling to get it, and it came through while I was in Baghdad (there was no way to get it at the heavily guarded Iranian embassy in B-dad, so I had to pick it up where I had applied, in Moscow, where I live).
As it happened, Tuesday, March 18, was the last day that I could use it. Through contacts with the Kurdish Democratic Party I was escorted to the Iranian border, where, for a small fee, I was allowed to enter Iraq.
Pssst: I’d like to say something kickass here, like " You see, Dan, a good war reporter always has a Plan B. " That’s what I was telling awed colleagues in Baghdad. In reality, going to Kurdish territory via Iran had been my Plan A, but then I ended up in Baghdad and everything got twisted around. Any good reporter has to have a good Plan A.
• On the difficulties and rewards of covering this war. You mean the most difficult part other than leaving two little children who think the world of me to be alone at this important and sensitive time of their lives? So that they can ask me when I phone them, " Papa, is there war where you are? " Hmmm....
Well, in Baghdad, I was gearing up to write stories, lots of stories, that perhaps many people in our country would not want to read, about the suffering that any war, even the best-planned and most justifiable, brings. Also, whether I wanted to or not, I was going to be writing about things the Iraqi government wanted me to write. I loathed the idea of being an instrument in Saddam’s hands, but if that was what it took to bring a side of the story that Americans should see into American homes, then so be it. But this was going to be difficult, and dangerous, with an outcome that was unclear.
Now? Now, I’m in a war zone, but in a place where the war, so far, has amounted to a few skirmishes, a little bombing, a few mortar rounds fired here and there. In a lot of ways, the operational situation here is similar to northern Afghanistan at the beginning of the war there in October 2001, except that in the rest of Iraq, there are all these huge battles under way.
Up here, we are in this big holding pattern, and the waiting for something to happen is starting to get to people. Yesterday [Friday, March 28], the Kurdish Democratic Party held two press conferences in two towns separated by about 30 km of mountain roads, and everyone rushed from one to the other. It’s a tough news day in a war zone when you drive 30 km to get to a press conference. Another little wrinkle: The borders of Turkey and Syria are closed, and my Iranian visa is expired. As far as the Iraqi government is concerned, I’m here illegally. The only way I’m getting out of here is through liberated Baghdad. And all the other reporters here are in the same boat.
I was laughing about this with some French reporters last night. Whatever any of them felt about the need to go to war right now with Iraq, every single one of them is rooting hard for a quick coalition victory now!
The most rewarding thing? As always, I am amazed at the generosity and basic goodness of most of the people in the world, no matter where and how they live. Everyone I met in Baghdad (except for a few government officials!) was friendly, generous, helpful, interesting, and interested. It’s been pretty much the same thing up here. It’s such a tragedy that the work we do is defined by conflicts, because otherwise it would be the greatest job on earth to travel to beautiful places and meet all these wonderful people and learn more about their customs and culture. We get to travel to a lot of amazing places where most Americans would never go.
Get out your old Iraq tourist guide, and you’ll see that Mosul sounds like another one of those places. I just hope there’s something left of it when I get there.
• On what he does when he’s not working. Actually, I’m currently composing a musical about the life of war reporters — a sort of " Oliver Hack. " Originally, it was going to be " Afghanistan, The Musical! " But it’s sort of broadened out. I composed a number called the " Hans Blix Rap " and everyone in Baghdad loved it.
Any idea whether I could get something like that on stage?
• On working for the Globe. One of the things I imagine people might not realize about the way the Globe is covering this story is just how many people are involved, many of them working nearly round the clock, as I am certainly doing. We have editors whom we reporters in the field call at home before they go to work, and who are still at the paper late in the evening. We have reporters here in Iraq and in the region who are pulling 14- to 18-hour days, every day.
For me, just realizing the size of the operation helps keep things in perspective a bit, because I’m certainly not alone at the paper as far as the personal sacrifices I am making to cover this story.
• On journalists who are still in Baghdad. The bombing last night hit the Iraqi information ministry, which is where all the journalists were based, and the only place journalists were allowed to use, and store, their satellite telephones. My expulsion came as a result of my attempt to use my phone elsewhere. After the bombing last night, I wonder what journalists there are doing now. I wonder how many of them had still been keeping their phones there. Not least of all, I wonder how many of them were there. I hope none of them were.
BY DAN KENNEDY