Fencing In the Messengers

By WILLIAM A. HENRY III

Ever since the Vietnam War, many military officers have contended that U.S. troops in combat face two foes: one on the battlefield, the other in the news media. In this view, reporters are more interested in probing for contradictions between official statements and the testimony of footsore grunts than in emphasizing any underlying unity of purpose. They seek out graphic images of suffering, invading the privacy of victims and allowing emotion to obscure larger concerns of national policy. Above all, they may be so skeptical about war in general, or a current war in particular, that they do not root for the American side. Journalists regard this characterization as unfair, but audiences may not be so sure. The U.S. public seemed unperturbed when the Pentagon hindered American reporters in covering the invasions of Grenada and Panama.

As the likelihood of combat has risen in the Persian Gulf, where battlefield conditions and terrain would make military assistance a necessity for reporters, distrust between the brass and the press has blazed anew. Despite repeated contacts with news executives who believe they made their concerns clear, the Pentagon has expanded its proposed ground rules for the behavior of journalists on any gulf battlefield from one page to six. Even after a promise of revision following a heated session with about 60 senior Washington journalists late last week, the Pentagon seems firm in its intention: to impose unprecedented restrictions on where reporters may go, whom they can talk to under what conditions, and what they can show of combat. Says ABC News Washington bureau chief George Watson: "Literally interpreted, the proposed rules say you couldn't take a picture of a wounded soldier. It's not possible to cover a war without showing casualties."

Initially the most attention-grabbing restriction was a Pentagon fitness test for reporters, involving sit-ups, push-ups and a 1.5-mile run. The idea was that before being certified for combat coverage, a journalist would have to demonstrate that he or she would not slow down troops. The test, never before attempted in any U.S. conflict, prompted much eyeball rolling and jollity in newsrooms across the nation. But in Saudi Arabia, where zealous military officers put the proposal into practice, most correspondents passed and nearly all said the rule had practical value in a battle zone with blazing sun and few trees or buildings for cover. Los Angeles Times correspondent David Lamb, 50, who also reported from Vietnam between 1968 and 1970, described the fitness hurdle to his editors as "a blatant violation of my constitutional rights, but the correct thing to do" Some journalists asked whether civilian and military officials on inspection tours would face the same rule. Pentagon officials eventually conceded that they had gone overboard and withdrew the test, but said they would still expect correspondents to be fit enough to cope with the desert.

Other proposed rules may prove harder to negotiate away. The Pentagon seeks greater control of journalistic activities than it had in Vietnam. It would limit initial combat coverage to two 18-member pools of print and broadcast reporters, one each with the Army and the Marines. Reporters would rotate and other pools would be added, but the number of journalists covering combat at any moment would probably be substantially smaller than in Vietnam -- and almost surely smaller than news organizations would pay for.

News coverage outside the pool arrangement, a common practice in past conflicts, is essentially impossible in the gulf, and the Pentagon proposes that pool members have military escorts "at all times." These pools inevitably will be controlled to some extent by field commanders in Saudi Arabia, where, according to Newsday Washington bureau chief Gaylord Shaw, two reporters have been threatened with exclusion because they asked "rude" questions. Such a ban would violate Pentagon rules, but getting a reversal might require time-consuming appeals back to the U.S.

The most troubling requirement is that pool reports be submitted to military censors to exclude any of 16 categories of material. These range from "information on effectiveness of enemy camouflage, cover, deception, targeting, direct and indirect fire, intelligence collection or security measures" to the catchall of "sensitive" matters. The concerns are valid, but the definitions are broad and vague and must be applied by military censors unaccustomed to such screening. Although the rules provide for a complex appeal and allow for an ultimate right to publish, the process could delay stories by days. All interviews would have to be scheduled in advance and conducted on the record -- a deterrent to whistle blowers, and a new rule since Vietnam. In a blow to broadcasters, the Pentagon would virtually ban conveying the sights and sounds of casualties.

Pentagon spokesman Pete Williams, who oversees the rulemaking, said he wants to meet media concerns while assuring U.S. commanders that "nothing will be reported that will jeopardize the success of your mission." He rejected the urging of Andrew Glass, Washington bureau chief of Cox Newspapers, and others that the Pentagon list security-related taboos and count on the honor and patriotism of journalists -- reinforced by the military's legitimate accreditation powers -- to ensure compliance. At week's end Williams promised instead to offer still more proposals this week, only a few days before they may begin to have real, and bleak, meaning.

With reporting by Stanley W. Cloud/Washington and Dean Fischer/Cairo