Tokyo dispatch
From the Guardian Tuesday January 27, 2004
Japan’s deployment of troops in Iraq has led to conflict between the press, who want to tell the real story, and the government, who would rather they didn’t, says Justin McCurry
Brandishing spotlights, microphones, cameras and tape recorders, their presence sparked off the first hostile exchange of Japan’s mission in Iraq – a war of words in pursuit of an often unpopular cause in times of conflict: freedom of the press.
The scores of Japanese reporters, photographers, TV camera crews and back-up staff to have descended on Samawa in the past couple of weeks are not having a good war – or to be more precise, a good post-conflict humanitarian operation.
In their quest to keep the folks back home informed about Japan’s most controversial troop deployment since the second world war, they have come up against a formidable nemesis in the Japanese military authorities.
Their first clash came before the troops even set foot on Iraqi soil. On January 9, the Japanese defence agency issued a notice asking newspapers and broadcasters not to make public any information that might compromise the safety of self-defence personnel in Samawa.
The list of unmentionables includes the timing of deployments to the Gulf, the location of base camps, activity schedules and information about supplies and weapons. Relatives of the soldiers are not to be interviewed under any circumstances.
As if that was not enough to bring most reporters out in a cold sweat, would-be violators were warned they could be denied interviews with defence officials.
While no one pretends that terrorists do not read newspapers, there are suspicions that the restrictions are politically motivated.
The prime minister, Junichiro Koizumi, could pay a high price if footage of his troops being shot at is beamed into Japanese homes. Even a photograph of a Japanese soldier brandishing his weapon in self-defence would send a worrying message to voters who have been assured that their troops are operating in a safe area.
Broadsheet editors in Tokyo say privately they are unhappy about the restrictions but have little room for manoeuvre when faced with the prospect of losing access to officialdom and ceding ground to rivals in a highly competitive market.
“This is a problem,” says a journalist at the Asahi Shimbun, which has four staff in Samawa. “We can manage, but it means that our reporters have to follow the troops around to get information, which takes time and effort.”
A journalist at the Yomiuri Shimbun, Japan’s biggest-selling newspaper, said he was “quite upset” by the defence agency’s approach.
The Kyodo news agency today said it had pulled its three reporters and one photographer out of Samawa for their own safety.
The dearth of official information has at least freed up column inches for the voices of ordinary Iraqis; their impressions of the troops in their midst, their daily struggle to secure clean water, and their hope that after its soldiers have returned home, Japan might also bring jobs and investment.
And in that – perhaps – lies a message for Japan’s much maligned media corps: that being in bed with officialdom is not necessarily preferable to spending the occasional night in the spare room. (the Guadian)