June 30, 2006
KIDNAPPED BY ISRAEL
The British Media And The Invasion Of Gaza
By Jonathan Cook
Few readers of a British newspaper would have noticed the story. In the
Observer of 25 June, it merited a mere paragraph hidden in the “World
in brief” section, revealing that the previous day a team of Israeli
commandos had entered the Gaza Strip to “detain” two Palestinians
Israel claims are members of Hamas.
The significance of the mission was alluded to in a final phrase describing
this as “the first arrest raid in the territory since Israel pulled
out of the area a year ago”. More precisely, it was the first time
the Israeli army had re-entered the Gaza Strip, directly violating Palestinian
control of the territory, since it supposedly left in August last year.
As the Observer landed on doorsteps around the UK, however, another daring
mission was being launched in Gaza that would attract far more attention
from the British media – and prompt far more concern.
Shortly before dawn, armed Palestinians slipped past Israeli military defences
to launch an attack on an army post close by Gaza called Kerem Shalom. They
sneaked through a half-mile underground tunnel dug under an Israeli-built
electronic fence that surrounds the Strip and threw grenades at a tank,
killing two soldiers inside. Seizing another, wounded soldier the gunmen
then disappeared back into Gaza.
Whereas the Israeli “arrest raid” had passed with barely a
murmur, the Palestinian attack a day later received very different coverage.
The BBC’s correspondent in Gaza, Alan Johnstone, started the ball
rolling later the same day in broadcasts in which he referred to the Palestinian
attack as “a major escalation in cross-border tensions”. (BBC
World news, 10am GMT, 25 June 2006)
Johnstone did not explain why the Palestinian attack on an Israeli army
post was an escalation, while the Israeli raid into Gaza the previous day
was not. Both were similar actions: violations of a neighbour’s territory.
The Palestinians could justify attacking the military post because the
Israeli army has been using it and other fortified positions to fire hundreds
of shells into Gaza that have contributed to some 30 civilian deaths over
the preceding weeks. Israel could justify launching its mission into Gaza
because it blames the two men it seized for being behind some of the hundreds
of home-made Qassam rockets that have been fired out of Gaza, mostly ineffectually,
but occasionally harming Israeli civilians in the border town of Sderot.
So why was the Palestinian attack, and not the earlier Israeli raid, an
escalation? The clue came in the same report from Johnstone, in which he
warned that Israel would feel compelled to launch “retaliations”
for the attack, implying that a re-invasion of the Gaza Strip was all but
inevitable.
So, in fact, the “escalation” and “retaliation”
were one and the same thing. Although Johnstone kept repeating that the
Palestinian attack had created an escalation, what he actually meant was
that Israel was choosing to escalate its response. Both sides could continue
their rocket fire, but only Israel was in a position to reinvade with tanks
and ground forces.
There was another intriguing aspect to Johnstone’s framework for
interpreting these fast-moving events, one that would be adopted by all
the British media. He noted that the coming Israeli “retaliation”
-- the reinvasion -- had a specific cause: the escalation prompted by the
brief Palestinian attack that left two Israeli soldiers dead and a third
captured.
But what about the Palestinian attack: did it not have a cause too? According
to the British media, apparently not. Apart from making vague references
to the Israeli artillery bombardment of the Gaza Strip over the previous
weeks, Johnstone and other reporters offered no context for the Palestinian
attack. It had no obvious cause or explanation. It appeared to come out
of nowhere, born presumably only of Palestinian malice.
Or as a Guardian editorial phrased it: “Confusion surrounds the precise
motives of the gunmen from the Islamist group Hamas and two other armed
organisations who captured the Israeli corporal and killed two other soldiers
on Sunday. But it was clearly intended to provoke a reaction, as is the
firing of rockets from Gaza into Israel.” ('Storm over Gaza,' 29 June
2006)
It was not as though Johnstone or the Guardian had far to look for reasons
for the Palestinian attack, explanations that might frame it as a retaliation
no different from the Israeli one. In addition to the shelling that has
caused some 30 civilian deaths and inflicted yet more trauma on a generation
of Palestinian children, Israel has been blockading Gaza’s borders
to prevent food and medicines from reaching the population and it has successfully
pressured international donors to cut off desperately needed funds to the
Palestinian government. Then, of course, there was also the matter of the
Israeli army’s violation of Palestinian-controlled territory in Gaza
the day before.
None of this context surfaced to help audiences distinguish cause and effect,
and assess for themselves who was doing the escalating and who the retaliating.
That may have been because all of these explanations make sense only in
the context of Israel’s continuing occupation of Gaza. But that context
conflicts with a guiding assumption in the British media: that the occupation
finished with Israel’s disengagement from Gaza in August last year.
With the occupation over, all grounds for Palestinian “retaliation”
become redundant.
The Guardian’s diplomatic editor, Ewen MacAskill certainly took the
view that Israel should be able to expect quiet after its disengagement.
“Having pulled out of Gaza last year, the Israelis would have been
justified in thinking they might enjoy a bit of peace on their southern
border.” ('An understandable over-reaction,' Comment is Free, 28 June
2006)
Never mind that Gaza’s borders, airspace, electromagnetic frequencies,
electricity and water are all under continuing Israeli control, or that
the Palestinians are not allowed an army, or that Israel is still preventing
Gazans from having any contact with Palestinians in the West Bank and East
Jerusalem. Meetings of the Palestinian parliament have to be conducted over
video links because Israel will not allow MPs in Gaza to travel to Ramallah
in the West Bank.
These factors might have helped to explain continuing Palestinian anger,
but in British coverage of the conflict they appear to be unmentionables.
Arrested, Detained Or Kidnapped?
There was another notable asymmetry in the media’s use of language
and their treatment of the weekend of raids by the Palestinians and the
Israelis. In the Observer, we learnt that Israel had “detained”
the two Palestinians in an “arrest raid”. These were presented
as the legitimate actions of a state that is enforcing the law within the
sphere of its sovereignty (notably, in stark contrast to the other media
assumption that the occupation of Gaza is over).
So how did the media describe the Palestinians’ seizure of the Israeli
soldier the next day? According to Donald MacIntyre of the Independent,
Corporal Gilad Shalit was “kidnapped” ('Israel set for military
raid over kidnapped soldier, Independent,' 27 June 2006). His colleague
Eric Silver considered the soldier “abducted” ('Israel hunts
for abducted soldier after dawn raid by militants,' 26 June 2006). Conal
Urquhart of the Guardian, referred to him as a “hostage” ('Palestinians
hunt for Israeli hostage,' Guardian, 26 June 2006). And BBC online believed
him “abducted” and “kidnapped” ('Israel warns of
"extreme action",' 28 June 2006)
It was a revealing choice of terminology. Soldiers who are seized by an
enemy are usually considered to have been captured; along with being killed,
it’s an occupational hazard for a soldier. But Britain’s liberal
media preferred to use words that misleadingly suggested Cpl Shalit was
a victim, an innocent whose status as a soldier was not relevant to his
fate. The Palestinians, as kidnappers and hostage-takers, were clearly not
behaving in a legitimate manner.
That this was a deviation from normal usage, at least when applied to Palestinians,
is suggested by the following report from the BBC in 2003, when Israel seized
Hamas political leader Sheikh Mohammed Taha: “Israeli troops have
captured a founder member of the Islamic militant group Hamas during an
incursion into the Gaza Strip.” This brief “incursion”
included the deaths of eight Palestinians, including a pregnant woman and
a child, according to the same report. ('Israel captures Hamas founder,'
BBC online, 3 March 2003).
But one does not need to look back three years to spot the double standard
being applied by the British media. On the Thursday following Sunday’s
Palestinian attack on Kerem Shalom, the Israeli army invaded Gaza and the
West Bank to grab dozens of Palestinian leaders, including cabinet ministers.
Were they being kidnapped or taken hostage by the Israeli army?
This is what a breaking news report from the Guardian had to say: “Israeli
troops today arrested dozens of Hamas ministers and MPs as they stepped
up attempts to free a soldier kidnapped by militants in Gaza at the weekend.
The Israeli army said 64 Hamas officials, including seven ministers and
20 other MPs, had been detained in a series of early morning arrests.”
(David Fickling and agencies, 'Israel detains Hamas ministers,' 29 June
2006).
BBC World took the same view. In its late morning report, Lyse Doucet told
viewers that in response to the attack in which an Israeli soldier had been
“kidnapped”, the Israeli army “have been detaining Palestinian
cabinet ministers”. In the same broadcast, another reporter, Wyre
Davies, referred to “Thirty Hamas politicians, including eight ministers,
detained in the West Bank”, calling this an attempt by Israel at “keeping
up the pressure”. (BBC World news, 10am GMT, 29 June 2006)
“Arrested” and “detained”? What exactly was the
crime committed by these Palestinian politicians from the West Bank? Were
they somehow accomplices to Cpl Shalit’s “kidnap” by Palestinian
militants in the separate territory of Gaza? And if so, was Israel intending
to prove it in a court of law? In any case, what was the jurisdiction of
the Israeli army in “arresting” Palestinians in Palestinian-controlled
territory?
None of those questions needed addressing because in truth none of the
media had any doubts about the answer. It was clear to all the reporters
that the purpose of seizing the Palestinian politicians was to hold them
as bargaining chips for the return for Cpl Shalit.
In the Guardian, Conal Urquhart wrote: “Israeli forces today arrested
more than 60 Hamas politicians in the West Bank and bombed targets in the
Gaza Strip. The moves were designed to increase pressure on Palestinian
militants to release an Israeli soldier held captive since Sunday.”
('Israel rounds up Hamas politicians,' 3.45pm update, 29 June 2006)
The BBC’s Lyse Doucet in Jerusalem referred to the “arrests”
as “keeping up the pressure on the Palestinians on all fronts”,
and Middle East editor Jeremy Bowen argued that the detention of the Hamas
MPs and ministers “sends out a very strong message about who’s
boss around here. The message is: If Israel wants you, it can get you.”
(BBC World News, 6pm GMT, 29 June 2006)
Siding With The Strong
So why have the British media adopted such differing terminology for the
two sides, language in which the Palestinians are consistently portrayed
as criminals while the Israelis are seen as law-enforcers?
Interestingly, the language used by the British media mirrors that used
by the Israeli media. The words “retaliation”, “escalation”,
“pressure”, “kidnap” and “hostage” are
all drawn from the lexicon of the Israeli press when talking about the Palestinians.
The only Israeli term avoided in British coverage is the label “terrorists”
for the Palestinian militants who attacked the army post near Gaza on 25
June.
In other words, the British media have adopted the same terminology as
Israeli media organisations, even though the latter proudly declare their
role as cheerleading for their army against the Palestinian enemy.
The replication by British reporters of Israeli language in covering the
conflict is mostly unconscious. It happens because of several factors in
the way foreign correspondents operate in conflict zones, factors that almost
always favour the stronger side over the weaker, independently of (and often
in opposition to) other important contexts, such as international law and
common sense.
The causes of this bias can be divided into four pressures on foreign correspondents:
identification with, and assimilation into, the stronger side’s culture;
over-reliance on the stronger side’s sources of information; peer
pressure and competition; and, most importantly, the pressure to satisfy
the expectations of editors back home in the media organisation.
The first pressure derives from the fact that British correspondents, as
well as the news agencies they frequently rely on, are almost exclusively
based in Israeli locations, such as West Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, where they
share the daily rituals of the host population. Correspondents have Israeli
neighbours, not Palestinian ones; they drink and eat in Israeli, not Palestinian,
bars and restaurants; they watch Israeli, not Palestinian, TV; and they
fear Palestinian suicide attacks, not Israeli army “incursions”.
Another aspect of this assimilation – this one unmentionable in newsrooms
– is the long-standing tendency, though admittedly one now finally
waning, by British media organisations to prefer Jewish reporters for the
“Jerusalem beat”. The media justify this to themselves on several
grounds: often a senior Jewish reporter on the staff wants to be based in
Jerusalem, in some cases as a prelude to receiving Israeli citizenship;
he or she may already speak some Hebrew; and, as a Jew living in a self-declared
Jewish state, he or she is likely to find it easier to gain access to officials.
The obvious danger that Jewish reporters who already feel an affinity with
Israel before their posting may quickly start to identify with Israel and
its goals is not considered an acceptable line of inquiry. Anyone raising
it is certain to be dismissed as an anti-Semite.
The second pressure involves the wide range of sources of information foreign
correspondents come to rely on in their daily reporting, from the Israeli
media to the Israeli army and government press offices. Most of the big
Israeli newspapers now have daily editions in English that arrive at reporters’
doors before breakfast and update all day on the internet. The Palestinians
do not have the resources to produce competing information. Israeli officials,
again unlike their Palestinian counterparts, are usually fluent in English
and ready with a statement on any subject.
This asymmetry between Israeli and Palestinian sources of information is
compounded by the fact that foreign correspondents usually consider Israeli
spokespeople to be more “useful”. It is, after all, Israeli
decision-makers who are shaping and determining the course of events. The
army’s spokesperson can speak with authority about the timing of the
next Gaza invasion, and the government press office knows by heart the themes
of the prime minister’s latest unilateral plans.
Palestinian spokespeople, by contrast, are far less effective: they usually
know nothing more about Israeli decisions than what they have read in the
Israeli papers; they are rarely at the scene of Israeli military “retaliations”,
and are often unreliable in the ensuing confusion; and internal political
disputes, and a lack of clear hierarchies, often leave spokespeople unsure
of what the official Palestinian line is.
Given these differences, the Israeli “version” is usually the
first one to hit the headlines, both in the Israeli media and on the international
TV channels. Which brings us to the third pressure.
News is not an independent category of information journalists search for;
it is the information that journalists collectively decide is worth seeking
out. So correspondents look to each other to determine what is the “big
story”. This is why reporters tend to hunt in packs.
The problem for British journalists is that they are playing second fiddle
to the largest contingent of English-language correspondents: those from
America. What makes the headlines in the US papers is the main story, and
as a result British journalists tend to follow the same leads, trying to
beat the American majors to the best lines of inquiry.
The effect is not hard to predict: British coverage largely mirrors American
coverage. And given the close identification of US politicians, business
and media with Israel, American coverage is skewed very keenly towards a
pro-Israel agenda. That has direct repercussions for British reporting.
(It does, however, allow for occasional innovation in the British media
too: for example, whereas American reporters were concerned to promote the
largely discredited account by the Israeli army of how seven members of
a Palestinian family were killed during artillery bombardment of a beach
in Gaza on 9 June, their British colleagues had a freer hand to investigate
the same events.)
Closely related to this sympathy of coverage between the British and American
media is the fourth pressure. No reporter who cares about his or her career
is entirely immune from the cumulative pressure of expectations from the
news desk in London. The editors back home read the American dailies closely;
they imbibe as authoritative the views of the major American columnists,
like Thomas Friedman, who promote Israel’s and Washington’s
agenda while sitting thousands of miles away from the events they analyse;
and they watch the wire services, which are equally slanted towards the
American and Israeli interpretation of events.
The reporter who rings the news desk each day to offer the best “pitch”
quickly learns which angles and subjects “fly” and which don’t.
“Professional” journalists of the type that get high-profile
jobs, like Jerusalem correspondent, have learnt long ago the predilections
of the desk editors. If our correspondent really believes in a story, he
or she will fight the desk vigorously to have it included. But there are
only so many battles correspondents who value their jobs are prepared to
engage in.
Collective Punishment
Within this model for understanding the work of British correspondents,
we can explain the confused sense of events that informs the recent reporting
of the Independent’s Donald MacIntyre.
He points out an obvious fact that seems to have eluded many of his colleagues:
Israel’s reinvasion of Gaza, its bombing of the only electricity station,
and disruption to the water supply, its bombing of the main bridges linking
north and south Gaza, and its terrifying sonic bombs over Gaza City are
all forms of collective punishment of the civilian Palestinian population
that are illegal under international law.
Derar Abu Sisi, who runs the power station in Gaza, tells MacIntyre it
will take a “minimum of three to six months” to restore electricity
supplies. ('Israeli missiles pound Gaza into a new Dark Age in "collective
punishment", 29 June 2006). The same piece includes a warning that
the petrol needed to run generators will soon run out, shutting off the
power to hospitals and other vital services.
This is more than the Guardian’s coverage managed on the same day.
Conal Urquhart writes simply: “Israel reoccupied areas of southern
Gaza yesterday and bombed bridges and an electricity plant to force Palestinian
militants to free the abducted soldier.” Blithely, Urquhart continues:
“In Gaza there was an uneasy calm as Israeli aircraft and forces operated
without harming anyone. Missiles were fired at buildings, roads and open
fields, but ground forces made no attempt to enter built-up areas.”
('Israel rounds up Hamas politicians,' 11.45am, 29 June 2006)
In MacIntyre’s article, despite his acknowledgment of Israel’s
“collective punishment” of Gaza (note even this statement of
the obvious needs quotation marks in the Independent’s piece to remove
any suggestion that it can be attributed directly to the paper), he also
refers to a Hamas call for a prisoner swap to end the stand-off as an “escalation”
of the “crisis”, and he describes the seizure of a Hamas politician
by Israel as an “arrest” and a “retaliation”.
In a similarly indulgent tone, the Guardian’s Ewen MacAskill calls
Israel’s re-invasion of Gaza “an understandable over-reaction”:
“Israel has good cause for taking tough action against the Palestinians
in Gaza” – presumably because of their “escalation”
by firing Qassam rockets. MacAskill does, however, pause to criticise the
invasion, pointing out that “Israel has to allow the Palestinians
a degree of sovereignty.” ('An understandable over-reaction,' Comment
is Free, www.guardian.co.uk, 28 June 2006)
Not full sovereignty, note, just a degree of it. In MacAskill’s view,
invasions are out, but by implication “targeted assassinations”,
air strikes and artillery fire, all of which have claimed dozens of Palestinian
civilian lives over the past weeks, are allowed as they only partially violate
Palestinian sovereignty.
But MacAskill finds a small sliver of hope for the future from what has
come to be known as the “Prisoners’ Document”, an agreement
between the various Palestinian factions that implicitly limits Palestinian
territorial ambitions to the West Bank, Gaza and East Jerusalem. “The
ambiguous document agreed between Hamas and Fatah yesterday does not recognize
Israel's right to exist but it is a step in the right direction,”
writes MacAskill. (ibid)
A step in which direction? Answer: Israel’s direction. Israel has
been demanding three concessions from the Palestinians before it says it
will negotiate with them: a recognition of Israel’s right to exist;
a renunciation of violence; and a decision to abide by previous agreements.
A Guardian editorial shares MacAskill’s assessment: “Implicit
recognition [of Israel] coupled with an end to violence [by the Palestinians]
would be a solid basis on which to proceed.” ('Storm over Gaza,' 29
June 2006)
If the Palestinians are being faulted for their half-hearted commitment
to these three yardsticks by which progress can be judged, how does Israel’s
own commitment compare?
First, whereas the long-dominant Palestinian faction Fatah recognised Israel
nearly 20 years ago, and Hamas appears ready to agree a similar recognition,
Israel has made no comparable concession. It has never recognised the Palestinians
right to exist as a people or as a state, from Golda Meir’s infamous
dictum to Ehud Olmert’s plans for stealing yet more Palestinian land
in the West Bank to create a series of Palestinian ghettos there.
Second, whereas the Palestinians have a right under international law to
use violence to liberate themselves from Israel’s continuing occupation,
the various factions are now agreeing in the Prisoners’ Document to
limit that right to actions within the occupied territories. Israel, meanwhile,
is employing violence on a daily basis against the general population of
Gaza, harming civilians and militants alike, even though under international
law it has a responsibility to look after the occupied population no different
from its duties towards its own citizens.
Third, whereas the Palestinians have been keen since the signing of the
Oslo accords to have their agreements with Israel honoured -- most assume
that they are their only hope of winning statehood -- Israel has flagrantly
and consistently ignored its commitments. During Oslo it missed all its
deadlines for withdrawing from Palestinian territory, and during the Oslo
and current Road Map peace negotiations it has continued to build and extend
its illegal settlements on Palestinian land.
In other words, Israel has not recognised the Palestinians, it has refused
to renounce its illegitimate use of violence against the population it occupies,
and it has abrogated its recent international agreements.
Doubtless, however, we will have to wait some time for a Guardian editorial
prepared to demand of Israel an “implicit recognition [of the Palestinians]
coupled with an end to violence as a solid basis on which to proceed.”
Jonathan Cook is a former journalist with the Observer and Guardian newspapers,
now based in Nazareth, Israel. He has also written for the Times, the International
Herald Tribune, Le Monde diplomatique, and Aljazeera.net. His book “Blood
and Religion: The Unmasking of the Jewish and Democratic State” was
recently published by Pluto Press. His website is www.jkcook.net
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