Former US Press Attaché Tells How It Was in Baghdad (Added 3/23: FS Journal Poll)

Here's a wonderfully level-headed account of one of the hardest public affairs stints ever, by an outstanding FSO:

"A View from the Embassy," by Robert J. Callahan - the American Journalism Review, April/May 2006. Callahan was the press attaché at the US Embassy in Baghdad from mid-2004 until mid-2005.

...Many journalists have said that Iraq was the most difficult story they have ever attempted to cover. For diplomats, who also report on events, it held much the same degree of difficulty, and for the same reasons.

It started with danger. Everyone in Iraq, but especially those in Baghdad and Anbar province, grew accustomed to mortar and rocket attacks. Yet these were often more nuisance than threat. They seldom kept us from our daily routines and rarely altered the way we went about living. Of much greater concern, and clearly more lethal, were roadside bombs, called improvised explosive devices (IEDs), and their mobile analogues, vehicle-borne improvised explosive devices (VBIEDs), what the rest of the world would call car bombs. Any time we were on the road, and both journalists and diplomats spent a lot of time on city streets and highways, we knew we were susceptible to these bombs. Diplomats especially were obvious targets since we traveled in conspicuous SUVs, usually three or more vehicles to a convoy. Journalists tended to be less visible in their cars, preferring models and makes that would not seem out of place in Iraq.

But if the SUV convoys, which were often accompanied by Humvees and helicopters flying loudly overhead, attracted attention and were vulnerable to IEDs and car bombs, they at least protected us from kidnapping. Journalists, who normally traveled with only an interpreter and driver (and occasionally a "chase car"), were far easier prey. Everyone from criminal gangs seeking profit to insurgent groups wanting to make a statement welcomed a chance to grab a Westerner....

As we – journalists, diplomats and others – took measures to reduce our exposure to danger, we also limited our ability to speak to average Iraqis. We just could not spend much time on the street or in the coffee houses. We did meet often with government officials, editors, clerics and politicians, but at their houses or offices. If these meetings took place outside the fortified Green Zone, we usually kept our encounters to an hour or less. To stay longer would invite unacceptable risks. Word would spread that a stranger was around, and crowds, often hostile, would gather. Terrorists or criminals might also learn of a Westerner's presence and act on it....

Danger is one impediment to getting the story in Iraq, but there are many others. Take statistics. Facts and figures help to frame a story, chart progress or failure, place statements in context. But Iraq lacks any kind of reliable numbers. Reporters and diplomats have had to guess at such things as unemployment, economic growth, oil production, income, mortality and population. Every Iraqi group – and in addition to the oft-cited Sunnis, Shiites and Kurds there are Christians, Turkmen, Yezidis, Baha'is and a host of others – claims numbers in the population that, if true, would make the country almost as populous as India.

Then there is the Arabic language, or more to the point, our lack of it. I knew only two journalists who spoke fluent Arabic and none who spoke Kurdish, Turkmen or Syriac, the language of many Christians, although all educated adult Iraqis, regardless of ethnicity, spoke Arabic. Among American diplomats, fewer than a dozen had sufficient Arabic to use in an extended conversation and, like the reporters, none spoke Iraq's other languages. That meant that either our contacts spoke English or we relied on interpreters. In the case of the most senior Americans – the ambassador and a few other civilians, generals with three or four stars – the interpreters were superb. But the rest of us, diplomats and journalists, had to rely on bilingual Iraqis who often weren't professional interpreters. Some were capable, most just adequate and a few deficient. When we spoke with Iraqis, using interpreters or making do in English, our discussions were halting and lacking in nuance. Add to this the inability of most of us to read Arabic newspapers and understand television news programs, and we worked in a communication twilight. Nothing ever appeared in sharp focus.

To overcome, or at least ameliorate, the problems that security and communication posed, journalists hired Iraqi stringers, and the embassy used foreign service national employees. They lived among the people and could go where we couldn't. They were able to talk easily to other Iraqis and assess shifts in mood and attitude. Of course, these Iraqis looked at events through their cultural prisms. Were they Sunnis or Shiites, Kurds or Arabs, Christians or Turkmen? Almost all of them had endured more than two decades of Saddam's repression and, like Iraqis in every field, had developed stratagems to cope. We had to assess if what they told us was what they actually thought or what they thought we wanted to hear. We didn't know if it was news or opinion, fact or rumor....

Once the Coalition Provisional Authority was dissolved on June 28, 2004, and sovereignty returned to an interim Iraqi government, America ceased to be a governing power and became an accredited embassy, one of several in Baghdad. To be sure, it was like no other embassy in the world, but it was still a diplomatic mission. Ambassador John D. Negroponte, who arrived the day of the transfer of sovereignty, had decided our approach to public affairs ought to change with our status. We would encourage the Iraqis to speak for themselves, let them explain their policies and defend their positions. No longer would the Americans speak daily on the record. We would make ourselves available to international reporters, but it would be, with rare exceptions, on background or off the record. We needed to show the world, as well as tell it, that the Iraqis now had to accept responsibility for their own affairs.

Some of our strategy succeeded. Parts of it failed. The Iraqis, at least in the first few months, proved unwilling or incapable of engaging the press. Despite extensive training in public affairs that we and the British provided, Iraqi spokesmen couldn't manage the most basic public affairs work. They couldn't write a press release or organize a press conference. They often didn't return phone calls and, when they did, they frequently gave the caller erroneous information. They contradicted one another and seemed to have a casual regard for the verifiable truth.

In August 2004, for example, when Muqtada al-Sadr, the radical Shiite cleric, seized a mosque in the holy city of Najaf, his rebellion became a front-page story throughout the world. Not only did it have a military dimension, but also profound political implications. If enough Shiites rose against the interim government, and by extension the coalition, it would certainly lead to greater bloodshed and likely derail the political process. The international press descended on the holy city. The entire embassy was engaged. Everyone was tense and waiting for news.

In the midst of the crisis I got a call from a public affairs officer in the prime minister's office. He was ecstatic. He told me that the confrontation had ended peacefully and that Muqtada and his followers had left the mosque. He said that he planned to tell the press. I asked him insistently if he was sure of his information. Annoyed, he said he had just received a call from the minister of the Interior, who was standing in the empty mosque where a few hours before Muqtada and his Mahdi Army had held sway. I again cautioned him to be certain and advised him to wait for additional confirmation. But the news was too good to hold, and he told the press.

The calls started immediately. The journalists wanted us to confirm what the Iraqis had said. I counseled them to be patient, to wait a few minutes before they ran with the news. Sure enough, within the hour the Iraqis had to admit that Muqtada remained in control of the mosque. It would be another three weeks before he would give it up....

Of course, it was not entirely the fault of the Iraqi spokesmen and government ministers. They endured plenty of petty political meddling, lacked modern communication equipment and had no experience with public affairs. Saddam handled those chores, and many others, for his regime for many years. And the Iraqis did improve with time. Still, it did not make work easier for journalists, who filed under deadlines and against competition....

We would answer the questions [journalists put to us] if we could, but we normally preferred to engage the press in regular background sessions. These gave us the opportunity to provide context for the pressing political, security and economic issues that concerned both journalists and diplomats. Although Negroponte did meet periodically with reporters, either for small dinners or for lunches with the international or Arabic press corps, he decided to delegate most of the background briefing responsibilities to others. His deputy, the heads of the political and political-military sections, the chief of the Treasury Department in Baghdad, the regime crimes liaison and others proved to be reliable resources for the press, in providing both textured information on breaking events and in explaining American policy. In a typical week we would arrange a half-dozen or more backgrounders. They were popular and useful for several reasons.

First, my colleagues quickly came to trust the press. They knew that reporters needed the access they offered and would not risk losing it by betraying a confidence or revealing a source. For their part, the reporters trusted us. They had confidence that our analyses were based on good information and honest intentions. In almost a year in Iraq, I recall only a couple of instances when newspapers misrepresented our position, and in one case it was more the headline than the article. [Note: Reporters don't write headlines -- editors back at the office do, often under time pressure and on the basis of only a quick read of the report.]

Next, we understood that resident reporters talked to many of the same people we spoke to, heard the same explosions, went to the same places, studied the same issues. Even if we wanted to mislead the journalists for policy purposes, and we never did, we realized that they would quickly discover our deceit, and we would forfeit our credibility. If we had erred on some issue, if our plans went awry, and they called us on it, we admitted our shortcomings. And it worked both ways. If we disagreed with their sources or conclusions, and we could show our case was stronger, we could talk to them and they would listen.

Third, the journalists would often tell us through their questions as much as we told them in our answers. It was mutually beneficial. Anthony Shadid of the Washington Post, a fluent Arabic speaker and courageous journalist, regularly attended Friday services at mosques, where he would analyze the sermons for their political content. His observations, and those of other reporters, often led us to reexamine our assumptions and contributed to our understanding of the situation.

Finally, we were able to provide basic information that the reporters, because of restrictions on their movements, small staffs and lack of time in country, could not find. Even the largest bureaus, such as the New York Times', would have no more than four or five reporters, and they had to cover political, economic and military issues. We had hundreds of people in our mission, many with one specific responsibility. When it came time to describe the electoral process, the re-creation of the Central Bank or the Iraqi legal system, we could call on experts who devoted all their time to these matters to share their knowledge with the press....

A good example of cooperation between the embassy and the press corps occurred in the run-up to the elections in January 2005. Kidnappings and car bombings were rampant and getting worse, and journalists would not dare venture beyond Baghdad in their cars. We in the embassy were confident that the elections would take place on time and with significant popular participation. We wanted to get the press out to write about politics in the provinces. Reporters wanted to escape from Baghdad and broaden their coverage.

Coordinating with the British embassy, we arranged for the American military to make available to us two helicopters a day for the 10 days leading to the elections. The British would supply a C-130 for a trip to Basra. Allowing for security guards and escorts, we could take 10 to 12 reporters on each chopper trip. If the destination was relatively safe, say Basra in the south or Suleimaniya in Kurdistan, the journalists were free to roam and talk to whomever they wanted. If danger was a concern, such as in Hilla or Kirkuk, we organized programs with local officials.

It wasn't perfect, from either our perspective or the correspondents'. At times, reporters had access only to people the local embassy office had selected. At other times, they saw or heard things that reflected poorly on our efforts and goals. I was with a group in Erbil, a large Kurdish city, and in a meeting with university students we heard that these young men and women had no desire to be Iraqis and that most of them spoke little or no Arabic. We also learned that despite this, the Kurds would vote and remain citizens of a federal Iraq until such time as they could afford full independence.

The travel, briefings and regular exchange of views and opinions helped to establish a relationship that encouraged frankness....

The most persistent critics of the media in Iraq have argued that reporters ignore the good news. Of course, it is axiomatic in the profession that good news is no news. But in Iraq, I would argue, good news was news and, to be fair, the media did cover much of it. When Iraqis went to the polls in January of 2005, their ink-stained fingers became an international symbol of courage and defiance. The story led newscasts and dominated front pages. The election was an astounding success, and the media reported it as such. But what of the smaller, daily triumphs, the reopening of schools and clinics, the rehabilitation of water plants and the training of Iraqi security forces, the billions spent on reconstruction, reform and civic education? Where were these stories, the critics would ask, why only blood, mayhem and failure?

Well, the media did run positive stories, perhaps not as many as we would have liked, but again the situation in Iraq often made it difficult, impractical or counterproductive to get coverage for the good news. For example, we stopped taking reporters to the inaugurations of many reconstruction projects because, as we quickly learned to our dismay, publicity might invite a terrorist attack. On several occasions, one involving a school, terrorists struck the site and killed innocent people the day after an article or television story appeared. We concluded that good publicity simply wasn't worth the cost in lives and damage, and we stopped advertising them. It was frustrating, to be sure, but prudent....

It took resourcefulness and much else – courage, persistence, discretion, skepticism, energy – to find anything resembling the full truth amid the dangers, confusion and chaos of Iraq. But most journalists, despite the obstacles, tried to find the truth. All things considered, they have done a pretty good job of it.

The full article is well worth reading. Click here to go to it.

Added 23 March:

"Desire 'To Serve My Country' Cited by Volunteers for Duty in Iraq" - the Washington Post, 23 March 2006 (registration required)

Almost 1,000 members of the U.S. Foreign Service have volunteered for duty in Iraq since 2003. The Foreign Service Journal, the magazine of the American Foreign Service Association, recently surveyed active-duty Foreign Service officers (FSOs) about their tour there. Fifty-seven who replied served or currently serve in Iraq either at the embassy in Baghdad or elsewhere in the country. Here are some of their responses, as excerpted from an article in the March issue by Shawn Dorman, titled "Iraq Service and Beyond."

What motivated you to volunteer for Iraq service?

The most frequently stated response was, in various iterations, "to serve my country." Many spoke of a desire to serve where they are most needed. Some respondents mentioned an additional hope that Iraq service would be career-enhancing, while others pointed to the financial incentives.

How does the way you work in Iraq differ from the way you worked at other posts?

The three top ways working in Iraq differs from other places, according to the respondents, are: the level of danger, the extreme work hours and the non-integrated command structure between the embassy, the military and the Iraq Reconstruction Management Office.

Another factor raised by many survey respondents was the impact of having so many appointees and contractors at the mission, many of whom have never served in an embassy or overseas before....

Many respondents commented on the "extreme" work hours. It is clear that the pace in Baghdad is frenetic and the flow of incoming taskings is relentless.

"The day begins at 8 a.m. or before, with meetings scheduled as late as 8 p.m.," explains an FSO serving in Baghdad. "People routinely work until 11 p.m., and there never seems to be a break. It creates a kind of Vegas casino atmosphere where you don't know if it's night or day outside because the activity level is constant. We have Friday 'off' but since Washington works on Friday, we need to be here then as well."

Are you able to do your job effectively, as one might expect at another post if you had the same portfolio? Can you see or talk to the people you need to? Can you communicate effectively with them (i.e., in Arabic, English)?

The most common response to the question about effectiveness was a conditional yes. The security situation is by far the most limiting factor. This includes both the difficulty of arranging meetings outside the Green Zone and the restrictions resulting from traveling to those meetings with armed guards.

"Extreme perseverance, determination and stubbornness are required to overcome the myriad of difficulties of performing diplomatic duties," writes an FSO serving in Baghdad. "However, often security restrictions keep us overly locked down and in a bubble, where we cannot accurately track or influence events."

Do security precautions limit your ability to do your job, and if so, how?

"It is not possible to leave the Green Zone without bodyguards," says an FSO serving in Baghdad, "and it is necessary to request them at least two days prior to any trip out. Many times security conditions will make it necessary to cancel or postpone a planned trip. The heavy security presence that accompanies us into the Red Zone also puts a damper on meetings. These security precautions are, however, absolutely necessary. This is a war zone and there are people out there who are actively trying to kill us. Anyone who doubts the need for the security precautions in place should be immediately removed from the mission."

"Security limits my ability to work," writes one officer serving in Baghdad. "Iraqis don't want me to visit their ministry with my personal security detail in town because that makes them a target. At the same time it is such a hassle to put in for and be approved for a Personal Security Detail and to coordinate the movement. There is very little flexibility, so no spontaneous action is ever possible."...

Many positions in Iraq have been and continue to be filled by non-career appointees, contractors and detailees from outside the Foreign Service. What has been the impact of this?

Out of some 2,000-plus people working on the U.S. embassy compound in Baghdad, fewer than 200 are career Foreign Service. Of course, at many embassies, State and the other foreign affairs agencies are a minority compared to the other federal agencies represented, but there is no other embassy in the world that is host to so many non-Foreign Service employees, political appointees and contractors.

"Frankly, I think a lot of the political appointees were disasters," writes an officer who served in Baghdad and other Iraqi cities. "They seemed to be ideologues rather than diplomats. A lot of the contractors and other detailees I met seemed quite capable."

Do you believe that Iraq service has helped or not helped your career? How?

Service in Iraq may give a boost for employees when they come up for review for promotion, but no conclusion could be drawn from the input we received on this question. For many people it is too early to tell what Iraq service will do for their career.