Iraqi Confesses To Rape, Murder Of Journalist Atwar Bahjat
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/...
Source: The Huffington Post 08/04/2009
I couldn't believe it.
I remember when this murder took place, and the horrific spasm of violence following the bombing in Samarra... It was 2006. I had resigned myself to the belief that the murder of Atwar Bahjat would simply be forgotten as just another tragic and faceless episode from the Iraq disaster. There would be no justice, I believed, because justice is in the eye of the beholder, and our eyes were closed to the carnage in Iraq... It was some months ago, in a class in Georgetown, I was asked about gender bias in the media, specifically in regard to war coverage, and I immediately thought of Atwar Bahjat, and, reluctantly, the friends I had lost in Iraq. So I wrote this brief essay. This confession from Yasser al-Takhi – this justice – has, strangely, lifted something of a weight, though, honestly, it changes nothing
February 17, 2009
"Asking whether there is a liberal or conservative bias to the mainstream media is a little like asking whether al-Qaeda uses too much oil in their hummus."
- Senator-elect Al Franken
"I hate essays that begin with quotes. It’s tired, pretentious and simplistic."
- Gail Hawley, journalist, feminist, National Merit Scholar
It’s the War, Stupid.
A Greek mural dated to 540 BC. Ancient paints worked onto clay by ancient painters. It is apparently a funeral scene depicting Greek women, mourning the deaths of their loved ones in battle. They wail, cry and lament; their hands slapped to their foreheads. Next page. A black-and-white photograph dated to 1974 AD. The Turkish invasion of Cyprus. Greek women in black dresses wail and cry; their palms resting on their foreheads. Though separated by a span of 2,500 years these depictions of Greek women reacting to war are nearly identical.1 This apparently historical sex role in war coverage, on film or ancient murals – women as the mourners, the victims, the bystanders – could be understood in terms of gendered media portrayal. Today the subversive nature of gendered war coverage is brought into question – and only 2,500 years later – and this question supposedly constitutes societal progress. There is hope for the future: if societies continue to progress and evolve – perhaps in another 2,500 years – society may eventually bring into question the subversive nature of people-still-dying-in-droves war coverage.
On February 22, 2006, the Al Askari Mosque – the Golden Mosque, one of the holiest sites for the Shia Muslim faith – was partially destroyed by a small gang of Iraqi saboteurs, brandishing Russian-made small arms and dynamite. The shimmering golden dome atop this holiest of ancient shrines, which had reflected the noble radiance of the sun across Samarra for more than 1,000 years, was gone. Imploded, exploded, collapsed. The perpetrators of this attack, presumably Sunni insurgents with ties to al-Qaeda,2 were never apprehended. The following day, a news crew from Al-Arabiya news channel, which included the female journalist, Atwar Bahjat, arrived in Samarra to document some of the local reactions to the shrine bombing. Her broadcast was sent live to the Middle East at 6pm local time. Shortly thereafter two masked gunmen arrived; killed Ms. Bahjat and two of her colleagues; and then stole away into the night, never to be caught. The bodies of the three journalists were found alongside a roadway the following morning, along with four other unidentified bodies.3 The news of the murder of Ms. Bahjat was covered somberly by the British press, which detailed her exemplary career working for Al-Jazeera prior to moving to Al-Arabiya, and described her as an "Iraqi television reporter famed for the courage of her work on the frontline."4 This incident was barely mentioned in the American news media. The CNN reports on the Iraq war for February 23, 2006, included extensive coverage of the bombing of the Golden Mosque, and the resulting 6pm curfew that had been imposed on Baghdad.5 (The city-wide curfew lasted more than a year.) CNN also reported that seven U.S. soldiers had been killed during the previous 24 hours and that 70 Iraqi civilians had also been killed in sectarian clashes – presumably the dead were mostly Sunni Iraqis – and that an additional 47 unidentified bodies had been dumped around Baghdad that same morning. In between the running tally of bodies the report did mention that a "female correspondent" for Al-Arabiya had been "kidnapped and killed."6 Both CNN and the Times Online did not mention Ms. Bahjat’s gender as a motive or factor in the attack that killed her. Both sources also did not mention that Ms. Bahjat was forced by the gunmen to strip naked7 before being taken away in a white pick-up truck. Nor did these sources mention that Ms. Bahjat had been mutilated and then shot, which was a trademark of Sunni militiamen, and yet she had also been worked over with a power drill, which is a known calling card of the Shia death-squads. And both sources failed to mention – or at least emphasize – that Ms. Bahjat was humiliated and abducted while a large crowd of local Sunni Iraqis that vastly outnumbered the two gunmen (and were no doubt far more heavily armed) stood idly by as onlookers, and ignored her pleas for help. It is interesting to note that while Ms. Bahjat worked as a lead television reporter, which had been a traditional masculine role in a deeply patriarchal society, the reports of her death seemed to place little emphasis on her gender, even though she was murdered in a brutal and sexually-demeaning manner. The wider issues of sex roles and media gender bias surrounding her murder remain unexplored; instead, she’s just dead.
The bombing of the Al-Askari Mosque in Samarra and the subsequent murder of Atwar Bahjat remain rich, compelling stories in regards to drama and human interest, but exist as news items beyond the apparent realm of gendered media, for death, in its finality, seems to be gender neutral.
This high-profile spasm of violence in February 2006 signaled the opening moves of what was to become a year-long, anarchical downward spiral of violence and sectarian bloodletting.8 As dawn broke over Baghdad on January 1, 2007, Iraq teetered on the verge of open civil war and complete societal collapse.9 The news media coverage from Ramadi10 – capitol of the Sunni-dominated Al Anbar province, and the most dangerous city in Iraq – during the apogee of violence in late 2006 describes a monochrome, quasi-apocalyptic cityscape where life meant precious little; and besieged, shell-shocked residents were being slowly bled dry of hope, humanity, and – perhaps – gender. A disquieting Newsweek article recounts a typical day in the streets of Ramadi: soldiers killing insurgents killing Marines killing insurgents killing soldiers ad infinitum; while a desperate populace – having lived without electricity and clean water for three years – is unable to escape.11 An article for the VFW Magazine – an uberpatriotic publication – allows that while "thousands of insurgents"12 have been killed by U.S. forces in Ramadi, the city is all but lost to the insurgency. The once-bustling downtown hub of Ramadi is described as a "wasteland" of "pools of sewage, piles of rubble, burned-out cars, and partially destroyed buildings."13 The city is known locally as the "graveyard of the Americans," while the locals themselves are unable to lead normal lives.14 These articles seem to have no transparent agenda or reporting bias in regards to sex roles and gender issues. There seems to be a gap. Though it can be assumed that roughly half the population of Ramadi (a city of some 500,000 souls) is female, and many (if not most) of the dead soldiers, insurgents and civilians have mothers (or wives, daughters, female sweethearts, et cetera), there is no specific mention of females as being among the dead and suffering. The dead are just described as dead.
In a March 2008 article for Rolling Stone Magazine, journalist Nir Rosen excoriates the continuing U.S. occupation of Iraq, as well as the perceived short-sightedness of the post-surge U.S. strategy in Iraq.15 In one of the most insightful and inciting pieces of journalism to emerge from the Iraq war fiasco, Rosen credits the U.S.-backed patronage system for halting the veritable "ethnic killing field"16 that had become Mesopotamia, but is highly critical of the tenuous peace brokered by the U.S. military between the revenge-minded Sunni militias and the corrupt Shia-dominated central government. Yet, while his article remains an important work of journalism in its political and historical clarity, Rosen potentially errs when he describes the perpetrators responsible for the years of killing, maiming, torturing, murdering, informing, kidnapping, raping, bombing, and terrorizing all in the masculine form; only once referring to females in Iraq as essentially women screaming. His intent through style, though, is unclear. This apparent gendered war coverage may only represent a singular lapse for a talented journalist dismayed at the prospect of Iraq returning to warlord feudalism,17 or distraught at the years’ accumulation of personal tragedies. While the question of biased or gendered war coverage remains murky, this article seems to support the theory that there exists in war coverage a blatant death-and-suffering bias.
The February 10, 2009, issue of The Washington Post included a Faces of the Fallen two-page spread, which featured photographs and biographical data of the most recent U.S. soldiers, Marines, sailors and airmen to die in Iraq. There were 108 faces. Their median age was 25 years old. One of these faces was female. Stacy Dryden, Marine Lance Corporal, 22 years old. She was from Canton, Ohio. The WaPo only mentions that she died October 19, 2008, in a "non-hostile incident."18 Her hometown newspaper made sure to include the details that she was a "fiery angel" and "tough as nails,"19 in what could be construed as an implicit reassurance that, as a female in uniform, she was tough enough.20 While leveled, however, this charge of gendered war reporting is unsubstantiated. Other than the necessary feminine pronouns, this article is without reference to gender, specifically in regards to there being anything extraordinary about her gender in the wider issue of sex roles and war. Much like her picture in the newspaper, the issue is silent.
Spc. Amanda Pinson was killed March 16, 2006, during a rocket attack against her base in Tikrit, Iraq. It was about noon on a clear day. She was 21 years old. She was from St. Louis, Missouri. Her hometown newspaper, in what again could be construed in gendered reassuring fashion, stated that she knew the inherent risks of war upon enlisting, but was resolute in her desire to serve and fight the enemy.21 She was tough enough; and "never wanted to do girlie things."22 But this hangs unfinished; without gender this is incomplete war coverage. In these two cases the obituary-style news coverage surrounding their deaths was not gendered, but quite to the contrary, this news was degendered. Perhaps as an effort to avoid gendered reporting, or a veneer of sexist or patronizing tones, this reporting seeks to downplay the significance of their gender and omit any allusions to their sexuality. Amanda Pinson was the first female cryptologist killed in the line of duty.23 Amanda was also very beautiful. She wore make up and painted her toe nails. She could turn smug combat veterans into mumbling, self-conscious fools. She did not hide her femininity, nor did she seek to downplay or omit her sexuality. And she loved doing girlie things. The problem in this case is not sexist reporting, or gendered war coverage, or gender bias in the media. She’s dead; and that’s the problem.
As of this morning, 4,245 U.S. military personnel have been killed in Iraq, in addition to the unknown hundreds of thousands of Iraqis that have also been killed since March 2003. By the time this paper is read – regardless of any gendered news media – those numbers will have changed. The challenge when confronting gendered war coverage, or gender bias in the media, is the overwhelming preeminence of the death bias in war coverage. The problem is the war, not the coverage.
End Notes
1 Browning, 1985
2 Though this remains unproven
3 Times Online, 2006
4 ibid
5 CNN, 2006
6 ibid
7 Baring of the breasts in public is considered one of the most shameful punitive acts imposed on a Muslim woman.
8 Sunni militiamen were killing Shiites, Shia death-squads were killing Sunnis, and U.S. soldiers were killing everything in between. In technical terms: everyone was killing everyone else.
9 The escalating levels of violence had been a major factor in the results of the U.S. mid-term elections in November 2006, and compelled President George W. Bush to replace his top generals in Iraq and promote a new counter-insurgency strategy, misleadingly labeled the surge.
10 The U.S. soldier’s motto in Ramadi: "Be polite, be professional, and have a plan to kill everyone you meet."
11 Johnson, 2006
12 Dyhouse, 2007
13 ibid
14 ibid
15 Rosen, 2008
16 ibid
17 ibid
18 "Faces of the Fallen," The Washington Post, 2009
19 Carney, 2008
20 As if there may have been some doubt.
21 Jonsson, 2006
22 ibid
23 St. George, 2006
Sources
Browning, Robert, The Greek World. London: Thames & Hudson Ltd, 1985.
Unattributed. "Sectarian violence stalks Iraq on holy day," CNN.com, (February 23, 2006). (see author notes).
Unattributed. "Leading female Arab TV reporter killed with crew," The Times Online, http://www.timesonline.co.uk:80/... (February 23, 2006).
Rosen, Nir. "The Myth of the Surge." Rolling Stone Magazine, March 6, 2008.
Johnson, Scott. "Tipping Point." Newsweek, August 7, 2006.
Dyhouse, Tim. "Ramadi: Heart of an Insurgent Hotbed." VFW Magazine, February 2007.
Unattributed. "Faces of the Fallen." The Washington Post, February 10, 2009, A8.
Jonsson, Greg. "Danger couldn’t deter local soldier." St. Louis Post-Dispatch, March 18, 2006, A2.
Carney, Jim. "Lance Cpl. Dryden buried with honors." Akron Beacon Journal, October 29, 2008, B6.
St. George, Donna. "U.S. Deaths in Iraq Mark Increased Presence." The Washington Post, December 31, 2006, A18.