Archive for the 'Politics' Category

Embedding

One of the blogs I read everyday is by Zoriah, a photojournalist currently embedded with US forces in Iraq. He takes beautiful pictures in what, at the best of times, can be deemed difficult circumstances, and writes with admirable honesty about the situations he finds there. I highly recommend it to anyone who is interested in the situation there.

A few days ago, he posted his report and photos of the aftermath of a suicide bombing attack on US Troops and Iraqi civilians in the outskirts of Falluja. It's a straight piece of reportage on a gruesome and tragic event, but I was left in no doubt that his treatment of both Iraqi and American victims was fair and respectful. It was a shock to read the entry from today, written by his representative, saying that the US Marines Public Affairs had asked him to take the entry down. The representative had not stated a reason. Upon his refusal to do so, the military cancelled his embed with them in Iraq, thus, it would seem, effectively muzzling him.

Initially when I read today's entry, I thought that the military must have perceived an anti-American in the entry, but upon re-reading the original post, I can't believe this to be the case. The entry hardly mentions any behaviour by the Americans that could be misinterpreted, or indeed by Iraqis, except, conceivably, Zoriah's supposition that he was removed from the scene when he tried to take a photo of the injured/dead Marines. This would be a rather harsh interpretation of the report. It would also be strange for the Marines to claim an anti-US agenda from this post in particular, when many of his other posts are much more clearly (and, indeed, rightfully), critical of American action.


© Zoriah/www.zoriah.com

If the implication from the military is that any sensitive information could put troops at risk, the relevant reporting from major news outlets (New York Times etc.), is as (or more), explicit than Zoriah's post, so the supression of a less widely-read journalist's work would be heavy handed at best. The same would hold true for any material that would be emotionally distressing for the families of the victims.

So did the military ask him to remove the post? Hopefully Zoriah will be able to explain when he gets to a less volatile location. In the meantime, it's a shame that the military attempt to control journalists like this when there is such a dirth of independent reporting coming out of the country. It strikes me that this is another example of how embedding has contributed to preventing the press cover this war in the depth of those of the past.

An Afternoon With The Prime Minister

The election for the upper house is approaching in Japan. Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's ruling Liberal Democratic Party looks like it may lose power, or at least have their majority reduced. On Sunday last week, he came to Kichijoji to big up his local representatives, including a guy (whose name I forget), that reminds me of a character from the Addams Family (whose name I also forget), and ex-newscaster and hottie, Marukawa Tamayo. The representatives and party workers all stood on the roof of a specially converted campaign bus, parked across the road from the train station to make their speeches while they waited for Abe to arrive. I had got there early to get a space near the front, among the press so I could take photos. I managed to find a spot right near the front behind only a young "politics" fan, the kind of boy who was leader of the young LDP at his high school, and who has, I found out, been following the campaign around Tokyo getting photos of his heroes, particularly the lithe Ms. Marukawa. As soon as any speeches got under way, and I got my camera out ready to take some pictures, he began desperately cheering, pumping the air with his fist, the only person in the crowd of 2000 to be doing anything. I needn't have worried about my view being obscured however, for as the time for Abe's arrival drew close, I felt a poke in my back and a young man told me (rather rudly, I thought), to "give your position to these old ladies", pointing at a coven of toothless crones grinning idiotically in front of him. Not wanting to make a scene with men with guns so close, I squeezed past scowling at the guy as I went. I noticed he had not made the same request of the Marukawa cheerleader in front of me.

A shudder went through the crowd as a fleet of black limos pulled up and Abe's bodyguards jumped out surrounding the prime minister and ushering him into the bus. As he climbed though some sort of skylight to join his colleagues on the roof a small cheer could be heard, mostly eminating from my cheerleading neighbour. Marukawa thanked Abe for coming and continued with her speech, earnestly assuring the crowd that, despite being a woman, and even more terrifyingly, a single mother, she was nonetheless mercilessly fascistic enough to represent them in parliament. The old ladies around nodded their approval. The cheerleader looked a little confused but, more from habit than appreciation of the speech, started cheering again, fist once more punching an unseen foe in the sky.

Abe took a microphone from one of his cronies as Marukawa finished her speech, and proceeded to tap it constantly to check it was working. An air of paranoid panic seemed to cloud his face. He began his speech and talked about problems in his party and with the country in general. The old ladies smiled and noted how cute he looked and noted how sorry they felt for him. The cheerleader, this time quite inappropriately, whooped and punched the air. He continued the speech. I had begun to notice how every trick and technique of the competent public speaker seemed just beyond his grasp. He was quite a terrible performer and resembled an accountant that someone had pushed to the stage of the National Accountants Conference, and who was out of his depth even there. His speech moved on to schools. I recognised my field of inexpertise and started paying more attention. He berated the lack of discipline in the classroom and express his wish to start a return to traditional Japanese respect and honour throughout society, starting in schools. I waited for him to explain the reforms he would legislate for in order to impliment this. He instead thanked the crowd for coming out to see him, asked us to vote, and left.

I managed to shake his hand as he did a meet and greet. I think standing next to the cheerleader, who by now was frothing at the mouth in anticipation, probably pushed the prime minister in my direction somewhat. He had a rather weak handshake, and looked instantly terrified when my hand gripped a little harder than he had been expecting. This, more than anything else, makes me worry for Japan.

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