Iran Watch: A new series which rounds up media responses to the Republic's nuclear arsenal

Mehdi Hasan presents blogposts on the hawkish rhetoric surrounding the Islamic Republic.

Back in November, I wrote the following paragraph at the start of my weekly column in the magazine:

It has become an annual event in international affairs: the "Iran crisis". Belligerent politicians and febrile commentators refer to the "drumbeat of war", the "ticking clock" and how "all options are on the table". My own, oft-repeated favourite is "the window of opportunity" - to thwart Iran's nuclear programme through military means - "is closing".

But, as each week goes by, I can't help but feel as if this year the afore-mentioned "Iran crisis" is different - more urgent, more imminent, more serious. Others I speak to - in the inter-connected worlds of politics, the media, intelligence and security, business and economics, both on and off the record - seem to agree.

I'm worried. In fact, I'm very worried. I can't help it. I keep asking myself and my colleagues: are we sleepwalking into another catastrophic, bloody, illegal and unjustifiable conflict in the Middle East? The Iraq war was the most traumatising, divisive, frustrating and, perhaps, formative political event of my adult life. And the realisation that a growing number of politicians and pundits in the west, and in Israel, are now seriously considering military action against Iran, on spurious "WMD" grounds, is deeply depressing. I feel like we've gone back in time and I have to keep pitching myself everytime I come across a hawkish individual fear-mongering, on air or in print, about the "threat" from a "nuclear" Iran (e.g.have a listen to my brief debate with neocon hawk Douglas Murray on Five Live yesterday morning...)

The HuffPo's Michael Calderone feels the same way:

Military strikes expected! Weapons inspectors called in! A murky al Qaeda connection! And Cheney says time's up for Ira...

Wait. Haven't we seen this movie before?

It's already been a decade since the media hyped bogus WMD claims prior to the U.S. invasion of Iraq. But it sure feels like 2002 for anyone who was around then and is now scanning newspaper headlines or watching TV talking-heads discuss a possible Israeli strike on Iran's nuclear facilities -- an act which could pull the U.S. into another thorny Middle East military conflict.

Or as the former New Republic editor and ex-Iraq-hawk Peter Beinart noted yesterday in a piece for the Daily Beast:

How can it be, less than a decade after the U.S. invaded Iraq, that the Iran debate is breaking down along largely the same lines, and the people who were manifestly, painfully wrong about that war are driving the debate this time as well? Culturally, it's a fascinating question -- and too depressing for words.

The role of the media - print and broadsheet, Anglo and American - in the run-up to the Iraq invasion was particularly egregious and shameful; unforgettable and unforgivable. Take the New York Times, which had to issue a public apology for its "credulous" and "flawed" coverage of the Bush administration's false and exaggerated claims about Iraq's "weapons of mass destruction" in 2002 and 2003.

Yet, a decade later, few lessons seem to have been learned. Here's the New York Times's public editor, Arthur Brisbane, commenting last month on the paper's ludicrously hawkish and alarmist coverage of the IAEA's latest report on Iran's nuclear programme:

Readers complaining about the Jan. 5 article believe The Times should avoid closing the gap with a shorthand phrase that says the IAEA thinks Iran's program "has a military objective."

I think the readers are correct on this. The Times hasn't corrected the story but it should because this is a case of when a shorthand phrase doesn't do justice to a nuanced set of facts. In this case, the distinction between the two is important because the Iranian program has emerged as a possible casus belli.

(For further details on the US press and Iran claims, check out Just Foreign Policy's Robert Naiman writing over at Huffington Post.)

Like Iraq, Iran isn't a left-right issue. For example, here's noted left-winger Seumas Milne of the Guardian, writing in his column today:

If an attack is launched by Israel or the US, it would not just be an act of criminal aggression, but of wanton destructive stupidity. As Michael Clarke, director of the British defence establishment's Royal United Services Institute, points out, such an attack would be entirely illegal: "There is no basis in international law for preventative, rather than pre-emptive, war."

It would also be guaranteed to trigger a regional conflagration with uncontrollable global consequences. Iran could be expected to retaliate against Israel, the US and its allies, both directly and indirectly, and block the fifth of international oil supplies shipped through the Strait of Hormuz. The trail of death, destruction and economic havoc would be awesome.

But, then again, here is the Conservative MP and former soldier John Baron writing on the Staggers blog:

We need to better understand and engage with Iran, and offer the prospect of implicit recognition of Iran's status as a major power in the region - a status we created ourselves by our misguided invasion of Iraq which fundamentally altered the regional balance of power. There is a precedent for recognising this new status. In the 1960s, when the US presence in Asia was waning and China was beginning to flex her muscles, Nixon did not respond by denying the reality of Chinese power. His visit to China in 1972 took everyone by surprise, but it was the right decision - it was a defining moment.

I suggest the US needs to realise that this is one of those defining moments. Israel and Iran are two proud nations, both perhaps uncertain as to the best course of action. The US is the elephant in the room. It needs to put behind it the underlying antagonism of the last 30 years which defines this crisis. It needs to make clear an Israeli attack would be unacceptable, and then better engage with Iran. It is in Israel's long-term interest that this happens.

Meanwhile, top generals and spooks from the United States and Israel are lining up to warn against an air attack on Iran, including Martin Dempsey, James Clapper, Michael Mullen, Paul Pillar, Ephraim Halevy, Meir Dagan, Dan Halutz. My favourite quote comes from retired four-star general and former head of US Central Command, Anthony Zinni:

I tell my friends, if you like Iraq and Afghanistan, you'll love Iran

But is anyone listening? A frustrated Beinart, in his Daily Beast piece, writes:

Can you find former military and intelligence officials who are more sympathetic to a strike? Sure. But in my lifetime, I've never seen a more lopsided debate among the experts paid to make these judgments. Yet it barely matters. So far, the Iran debate has been a rout, with the Republican presidential candidates loudly declaring their openness to war and President Obama unwilling to even echo the skepticism of his own security chiefs.

And as the New York Times's Scott Shane pointed out yesterday:

Despite a decade of war, most Americans seem to endorse the politicians' martial spirit. In a Pew Research Center poll this month, 58 percent of those surveyed said the United States should use military force, if necessary, to prevent Iran from developing nuclear weapons. Only 30 percent said no.

"I find it puzzling," said Richard K. Betts of Columbia University, who has studied security threats since the cold war. "You'd think there would be an instinctive reason to hold back after two bloody noses in Iraq and Afghanistan."

Indeed. But there doesn't seem to be - and the media, a la Iraq, isn't helping. And so, as I said at the start, I'm worried. Very worried. We all should be.

So what are we going to do about it? I plan to start a new series of blogposts, with the original (!) title of "Iran Watch", in which I intend to try and examine and deconstruct the claims and counter-claims made by politicians and pundits about Iran, its nuclear programme, the IAEA's inspections, US/Israeli plans for military action, alleged al-Qaeda links, etc. I want to try and play a (small) role in holding opinion-formers to account on Iran in 2012 in a way that they weren't on Iraq in 2002 and 2003, a shameful period in which "dodgy dossiers" were embraced uncritically and our political leaders, in the words of the former weapons inspector Hans Blix, "misled themselves and then they misled the public".

Myths must be dispelled and falsehoods rebutted. And I need your help. Please send me, via Twitter, articles, headlines, speeches, quotes, reports, etc, that you come across which make false, exaggerated, fear-mongering or otherwise outrageous or nonsensical claims about the "Iran crisis". Whether wittingly or unwittingly, we can't afford a repeat of Iraq. We just can't.

Further reading:

"The road to hell" - Hans Blix, New Statesman, February 2012

"Now they tell us" - Michael Massing, New York Review of Books, February 2004

@ns_mehdihasan #iranwatch

 

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

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What it’s like to fall victim to the Mail Online’s aggregation machine

I recently travelled to Iraq at my own expense to write a piece about war graves. Within five hours of the story's publication by the Times, huge chunks of it appeared on Mail Online – under someone else's byline.

I recently returned from a trip to Iraq, and wrote an article for the Times on the desecration of Commonwealth war cemeteries in the southern cities of Amara and Basra. It appeared in Monday’s paper, and began:

“‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the engraving reads, but the words ring hollow. The stone on which they appear lies shattered in a foreign field that should forever be England, but patently is anything but.”

By 6am, less than five hours after the Times put it online, a remarkably similar story had appeared on Mail Online, the world’s biggest and most successful English-language website with 200 million unique visitors a month.

It began: “Despite being etched with the immortal line: ‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the truth could not be further from the sentiment for the memorials in the Commonwealth War Cemetery in Amara.”

The article ran under the byline of someone called Euan McLelland, who describes himself on his personal website as a “driven, proactive and reliable multi-media reporter”. Alas, he was not driven or proactive enough to visit Iraq himself. His story was lifted straight from mine – every fact, every quote, every observation, the only significant difference being the introduction of a few errors and some lyrical flights of fancy. McLelland’s journalistic research extended to discovering the name of a Victoria Cross winner buried in one of the cemeteries – then getting it wrong.

Within the trade, lifting quotes and other material without proper acknowledgement is called plagiarism. In the wider world it is called theft. As a freelance, I had financed my trip to Iraq (though I should eventually recoup my expenses of nearly £1,000). I had arranged a guide and transport. I had expended considerable time and energy on the travel and research, and had taken the risk of visiting a notoriously unstable country. Yet McLelland had seen fit not only to filch my work but put his name on it. In doing so, he also precluded the possibility of me selling the story to any other publication.

I’m being unfair, of course. McLelland is merely a lackey. His job is to repackage and regurgitate. He has no time to do what proper journalists do – investigate, find things out, speak to real people, check facts. As the astute media blog SubScribe pointed out, on the same day that he “exposed” the state of Iraq’s cemeteries McLelland also wrote stories about the junior doctors’ strike, British special forces fighting Isis in Iraq, a policeman’s killer enjoying supervised outings from prison, methods of teaching children to read, the development of odourless garlic, a book by Lee Rigby’s mother serialised in the rival Mirror, and Michael Gove’s warning of an immigration free-for-all if Britain brexits. That’s some workload.

Last year James King published a damning insider’s account of working at Mail Online for the website Gawker. “I saw basic journalism standards and ethics casually and routinely ignored. I saw other publications’ work lifted wholesale. I watched editors...publish information they knew to be inaccurate,” he wrote. “The Mail’s editorial model depends on little more than dishonesty, theft of copyrighted material, and sensationalism so absurd that it crosses into fabrication.”

Mail Online strenuously denied the charges, but there is plenty of evidence to support them. In 2014, for example, it was famously forced to apologise to George Clooney for publishing what the actor described as a bogus, baseless and “premeditated lie” about his future mother-in-law opposing his marriage to Amal Alamuddin.

That same year it had to pay a “sizeable amount” to a freelance journalist named Jonathan Krohn for stealing his exclusive account in the Sunday Telegraph of being besieged with the Yazidis on northern Iraq’s Mount Sinjar by Islamic State fighters. It had to compensate another freelance, Ali Kefford, for ripping off her exclusive interview for the Mirror with Sarah West, the first female commander of a Navy warship.

Incensed by the theft of my own story, I emailed Martin Clarke, publisher of Mail Online, attaching an invoice for several hundred pounds. I heard nothing, so emailed McLelland to ask if he intended to pay me for using my work. Again I heard nothing, so I posted both emails on Facebook and Twitter.

I was astonished by the support I received, especially from my fellow journalists, some of them household names, including several victims of Mail Online themselves. They clearly loathed the website and the way it tarnishes and debases their profession. “Keep pestering and shaming them till you get a response,” one urged me. Take legal action, others exhorted me. “Could a groundswell from working journalists develop into a concerted effort to stop the theft?” SubScribe asked hopefully.

Then, as pressure from social media grew, Mail Online capitulated. Scott Langham, its deputy managing editor, emailed to say it would pay my invoice – but “with no admission of liability”. He even asked if it could keep the offending article up online, only with my byline instead of McLelland’s. I declined that generous offer and demanded its removal.

When I announced my little victory on Facebook some journalistic colleagues expressed disappointment, not satisfaction. They had hoped this would be a test case, they said. They wanted Mail Online’s brand of “journalism” exposed for what it is. “I was spoiling for a long war of attrition,” one well-known television correspondent lamented. Instead, they complained, a website widely seen as the model for future online journalism had simply bought off yet another of its victims.