Between the Lines

By tradition and necessity, the role of the reporter is to observe rather than to act. He remains the professional outsider, detached and uninvolved. To reverse Tennyson, his is to reason why, not do or die. But sometimes the distinction between observer and actor breaks down. The last few weeks in Cambodia, notes TIME Correspondent Robert Anson, has been such a time. His report, filed from Phnom-Penh, headquarters for more than 100 foreign correspondents:

Since the coup that swept Prince Sihanouk from power, reporters here have served as the eyes and ears not only of their news organizations but also of the Cambodian government and foreign embassies of the East and West. One Western official refers to the press corps as "our political section." He is only half kidding. Like reconnaissance patrols, newsmen head out each day to where they guess the Communists and the action are. On their return,* they file their stories and then sit down by the pool at the Hotel Royal to swap information over citron presses. Officials of the U.S. and Soviet embassies drop in regularly.

Correspondents have become involved in other ways since the recent massacres of Vietnamese civilians. After viewing scores of bodies floating down the Mekong River, New York Timesman Henry Kamm and London Timesman Fred Emery each called on a high official in the Cambodian government. They implored him to call off the slaughtering and pointed out that, apart from anything else, the killings were not helping his government's cause. The official promised an investigation.

Delicate Ground. When two newsmen stumbled on to the massacre at Takeo (TIME, April 27) their immediate response was not how to file a story but how to help the survivors. Later, other newsmen stood for several hours as a human shield between the wounded and several hundred nervous Cambodian troops. Finally the correspondents became nervous themselves. When they left, one correspondent's car carried away seven of the wounded.

Next day most of the reporters who had been at Takeo became more deeply involved. Some went off to talk privately with Cambodian authorities; some made the rounds of Western embassies; some returned to the scene of the massacre. The mission in all cases was partly to gather more information, but it was also to try to prevent more killing. Some embassy officials chided newsmen for involving themselves in Cambodian affairs.

The officials have a point. Many correspondents recognize that they are treading on delicate ground, and that one misstep could result in expulsion. But for the moment they seem willing to take that risk if it means saving some lives. "What we are doing," says Kamm, "is what the Western embassies should be doing but aren't."

T.D. Allman, a freelance reporter for TIME and the Washington Post, agrees. As one of the newsmen who transported survivors out of Takeo, Allman adds: "When you see a child who's just been shot lying in front of you, and you know that unless you do something, the chances are he's either going to be left to die or be shot again, you don't have many choices. If you have a shred of morality in you, you have to do something."

* Not all correspondents have returned from such missions (TIME, April 20). Still missing last week were eight correspondents, including TIME Photographer Sean Flynn, who disappeared while covering the hostilities in Cambodia.

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