Patrick Cockburn: War and Pandemic Journalism

Yves here. One of my mother’s friends had polio and was lucky enough to get a form of water therapy that enabled her to walk with only a brace on one ankle. Her age, and the fact that there were no polio victims among the older siblings of children I knew led me to regard polio, and of course other epidemic/pandemic level diseases, as things we learned about, but happened only to people who were remote: much older, institutionalized, or at worst, in the unfortunate position still to be at risk in a developing country. The idea that someone like Cockburn, was afflicted the year before I was born is yet another reminder how privileged Americans once were.

By Patrick Cockburn, a Middle East correspondent for the Independent of London and the author of six books on the Middle East, the latest of which is War in the Age of Trump: The Defeat of Isis, the Fall of the Kurds, the Confrontation with Iran (Verso). Originally published at TomDispatch

The struggle against Covid-19 has often been compared to fighting a war. Much of this rhetoric is bombast, but the similarities between the struggle against the virus and against human enemies are real enough. War reporting and pandemic reporting likewise have much in common because, in both cases, journalists are dealing with and describing matters of life and death. Public interest is fueled by deep fears, often more intense during an epidemic because the whole population is at risk. In a war, aside from military occupation and area bombing, terror is at its height among those closest to the battlefield.

The nature of the dangers stemming from military violence and the outbreak of a deadly disease may appear very different. But looked at from the point of view of a government, they both pose an existential threat because failure in either crisis may provoke some version of regime change. People seldom forgive governments that get them involved in losing wars or that fail to cope adequately with a natural disaster like the coronavirus. The powers-that-be know that they must fight for their political lives, perhaps even their physical existence, claiming any success as their own and doing their best to escape blame for what has gone wrong.

My First Pandemic

I first experienced a pandemic in the summer of 1956 when, at the age of six, I caught polio in Cork, Ireland. The epidemic there began soon after virologist Jonas Salk developed a vaccine for it in the United States, but before it was available in Europe. Polio epidemics were at their height in the first half of the twentieth century and, in a number of respects, closely resembled the Covid-19 experience: many people caught the disease but only a minority were permanently disabled by or died of it. In contrast with Covid-19, however, it was young children, not the old, who were most at risk. The terror caused by poliomyelitis, to use its full name, was even higher than during the present epidemic exactly because it targeted the very young and its victims did not generally disappear into the cemetery but were highly visible on crutches and in wheelchairs, or prone in iron lungs.

Parents were mystified by the source of the illness because it was spread by great numbers of asymptomatic carriers who did not know they had it. The worst outbreaks were in the better-off parts of modern cities like Boston, Chicago, Copenhagen, Melbourne, New York, and Stockholm. People living there enjoyed a good supply of clean water and had effective sewage disposal, but did not realize that all of this robbed them of their natural immunity to the polio virus. The pattern in Cork was the same: most of the sick came from the more affluent parts of the city, while people living in the slums were largely unaffected. Everywhere, there was a frantic search to identify those, like foreign immigrants, who might be responsible for spreading the disease. In the New York epidemic of 1916, even animals were suspected of doing so and 72,000 cats and 8,000 dogs were hunted down and killed.

The illness weakened my legs permanently and I have a severe limp so, even reporting in dangerous circumstances in the Middle East, I could only walk, not run. I was very conscious of my disabilities from the first, but did not think much about how I had acquired them or the epidemic itself until perhaps four decades later. It was the 1990s and I was then visiting ill-supplied hospitals in Iraq as that country’s health system was collapsing under the weight of U.N. sanctions. As a child, I had once been a patient in an almost equally grim hospital in Ireland and it occurred to me then, as I saw children in those desperate circumstances in Iraq, that I ought to know more about what had happened to me. At that time, my ignorance was remarkably complete. I did not even know the year when the polio epidemic had happened in Ireland, nor could I say if it was caused by a virus or a bacterium.

So I read up on the outbreak in newspapers of the time and Irish Health Ministry files, while interviewing surviving doctors, nurses, and patients. Kathleen O’Callaghan, a doctor at St. Finbarr’s hospital, where I had been brought from my home when first diagnosed, said that people in the city were so frightened “they would cross the road rather than walk past the walls of the fever hospital.” My father recalled that the police had to deliver food to infected homes because no one else would go near them. A Red Cross nurse, Maureen O’Sullivan, who drove an ambulance at the time, told me that, even after the epidemic was over, people would quail at the sight of her ambulance, claiming “the polio is back again” and dragging their children into their houses or they might even fall to their knees to pray.

The local authorities in a poor little city like Cork where I grew up understood better than national governments today that fear is a main feature of epidemics. They tried then to steer public opinion between panic and complacency by keeping control of the news of the outbreak. When British newspapers like the Times reported that polio was rampant in Cork, they called this typical British slander and exaggeration. But their efforts to suppress the news never worked as well as they hoped. Instead, they dented their own credibility by trying to play down what was happening. In that pre-television era, the main source of information in my hometown was the Cork Examiner, which, after the first polio infections were announced at the beginning of July 1956, accurately reported on the number of cases, but systematically underrated their seriousness.

Headlines about polio like “Panic Reaction Without Justification” and “Outbreak Not Yet Dangerous” regularly ran below the fold on its front page. Above it were the screaming ones about the Suez Crisis and the Hungarian uprising of that year. In the end, this treatment only served to spread alarm in Cork where many people were convinced that the death toll was much higher than the officially announced one and that bodies were being secretly carried out of the hospitals at night.

My father said that, in the end, a delegation of local businessmen, the owners of the biggest shops, approached the owners of the Cork Examiner, threatening to withdraw their advertising unless it stopped reporting the epidemic. I was dubious about this story, but when I checked the newspaper files many years later, I found that he was correct and the paper had almost entirely stopped reporting on the epidemic just as sick children were pouring into St. Finbarr’s hospital.

The Misreporting of Wars and Epidemics

By the time I started to research a book about the Cork polio epidemic that would be titled Broken Boy, I had been reporting wars for 25 years, starting with the Northern Irish Troubles in the 1970s, then the Lebanese civil war, the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, the war that followed Washington’s post-9/11 takeover of Afghanistan, and the U.S.-led 2003 invasion of Iraq. After publication of the book, I went on covering these endless conflicts for the British paper the Independent as well as new conflicts sparked in 2011 by the Arab Spring in Libya, Syria, and Yemen.

As the coronavirus pandemic began this January, I was finishing a book (just published), War in the Age of Trump: The Defeat of Isis, the Fall of the Kurds, the Confrontation with Iran. Almost immediately, I noticed strong parallels between the Covid-19 pandemic and the polio epidemic 64 years earlier. Pervasive fear was perhaps the common factor, though little grasped by governments of this moment. Boris Johnson’s in Great Britain, where I was living, was typical in believing that people had to be frightened into lockdown, when, in fact, so many were already terrified and needed to be reassured.

I also noticed ominous similarities between the ways in which epidemics and wars are misreported. Those in positions of responsibility — Donald Trump represents an extreme version of this — invariably claim victories and successes even as they fail and suffer defeats. The words of the Confederate general “Stonewall” Jackson came to mind. On surveying ground that had only recently been a battlefield, he asked an aide: “Did you ever think, sir, what an opportunity a battlefield affords liars?”

This has certainly been true of wars, but no less so, it seemed to me, of epidemics, as President Trump was indeed soon to demonstrate (over and over and over again). At least in retrospect, disinformation campaigns in wars tend to get bad press and be the subject of much finger wagging. But think about it a moment: it stands to reason that people trying to kill each other will not hesitate to lie about each other as well. While the glib saying that “truth is the first casualty of war” has often proven a dangerous escape hatch for poor reporting or unthinking acceptance of a self-serving version of battlefield realities (spoon-fed by the powers-that-be to a credulous media), it could equally be said that truth is the first casualty of pandemics. The inevitable chaos that follows in the wake of the swift spread of a deadly disease and the desperation of those in power to avoid being held responsible for the soaring loss of life lead in the same direction.

There is, of course, nothing inevitable about the suppression of truth when it comes to wars, epidemics, or anything else for that matter. Journalists, individually and collectively, will always be engaged in a struggle with propagandists and PR men, one in which victory for either side is never inevitable.

Unfortunately, wars and epidemics are melodramatic events and melodrama militates against real understanding. “If it bleeds, it leads” is true of news priorities when it comes to an intensive care unit in Texas or a missile strike in Afghanistan. Such scenes are shocking but do not necessarily tell us much about what is actually going on.

The recent history of war reporting is not encouraging. Journalists will always have to fight propagandists working for the powers-that-be. Sadly, I have had the depressing feeling since Washington’s first Gulf War against Saddam Hussein’s Iraq in 1991 that the propagandists are increasingly winning the news battle and that accurate journalism, actual eyewitness reporting, is in retreat.

Disappearing News

By its nature, reporting wars is always going to be difficult and dangerous work, but it has become more so in these years. Coverage of Washington’s Afghan and Iraqi wars was often inadequate, but not as bad as the more recent reporting from war-torn Libya and Syria or its near total absence from the disaster that is Yemen. This lack fostered misconceptions even when it came to fundamental questions like who is actually fighting whom, for what reasons, and just who are the real prospective winners and losers.

Of course, there is little new about propaganda, controlling the news, or spreading “false facts.” Ancient Egyptian pharaohs inscribed self-glorifying and mendacious accounts of their battles on monuments, now thousands of years old, in which their defeats are lauded as heroic victories. What is new about war reporting in recent decades is the far greater sophistication and resources that governments can deploy in shaping the news. With opponents like longtime Iraqi ruler Saddam Hussein, demonization was never too difficult a task because he was a genuinely demonic autocrat.

Yet the most influential news story about the Iraqi invasion of neighboring Kuwait in 1990 and the U.S.-led counter-invasion proved to be a fake. This was a report that, in August 1990, invading Iraqi soldiers had tipped babies out of incubators in a Kuwaiti hospital and left them to die on the floor. A Kuwaiti girl reported to have been working as a volunteer in the hospital swore before a U.S. congressional committee that she had witnessed that very atrocity. Her story was hugely influential in mobilizing international support for the war effort of the administration of President George H.W. Bush and the U.S. allies he teamed up with.

In reality it proved purely fictional. The supposed hospital volunteer turned out to be the daughter of the Kuwaiti ambassador in Washington. Several journalists and human rights specialists expressed skepticism at the time, but their voices were drowned out by the outrage the tale provoked. It was a classic example of a successful propaganda coup: instantly newsworthy, not easy to disprove, and when it was — long after the war — it had already had the necessary impact, creating support for the U.S.-led coalition going to war with Iraq.

In a similar fashion, I reported on the American war in Afghanistan in 2001-2002 at a time when coverage in the international media had left the impression that the Taliban had been decisively defeated by the U.S. military and its Afghan allies. Television showed dramatic shots of bombs and missiles exploding on the Taliban front lines and Northern Alliance opposition forces advancing unopposed to “liberate” the Afghan capital, Kabul.

When, however, I followed the Taliban retreating south to Kandahar Province, it became clear to me that they were not by any normal definition a beaten force, that their units were simply under orders to disperse and go home. Their leaders had clearly grasped that they were over-matched and that it would be better to wait until conditions changed in their favor, something that had distinctly happened by 2006, when they went back to war in a big way. They then continued to fight in a determined fashion to the present day. By 2009, it was already dangerous to drive beyond the southernmost police station in Kabul due to the risk that Taliban patrols might create pop-up checkpoints anywhere along the road.

None of the wars I covered then have ever really ended. What has happened, however, is that they have largely ended up receding, if not disappearing, from the news agenda. I suspect that, if a successful vaccine for Covid-19 isn’t found and used globally, something of the same sort could happen with the coronavirus pandemic as well. Given the way news about it now dominates, even overwhelms, the present news agenda, this may seem unlikely, but there are precedents. In 1918, with World War I in progress, governments dealt with what came to be called the Spanish Flu by simply suppressing information about it. Spain, as a non-combatant in that war, did not censor the news of the outbreak in the same fashion and so the disease was most unfairly named “the Spanish Flu,” though it probably began in the United States.

The polio epidemic in Cork supposedly ended abruptly in mid-September 1956 when the local press stopped reporting on it, but that was at least two weeks before many children like me caught it. In a similar fashion, right now, wars in the Middle East and north Africa like the ongoing disasters in Libya and Syria that once got significant coverage now barely get a mention much of the time.

In the years to come, the same thing could happen to the coronavirus.

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15 comments

  1. KLG

    If there is any justice in the world (I know, humor me), the epigraph on Madeline Albright’s tombstone will read, “We think the price is worth it.”

    Reply
  2. Susan the other

    We don’t understand the immunity variables. There are many. Clearly. So to cut to the chase: what sort of natural immunity survives a truly deadly epidemic? Followed by a wave of lesser epidemic? That’s the question. Those make the odds. And the reason we cannot be truthful with one another is because we are constantly playing the odds. When Einstein said “God doesn’t play dice,” he was being pre-emptive. Because that is exactly what god does on a daily basis. Who wouldn’t? If we can suspend the worst outcome for long enough that the extenuated energies of entropy can deal with them… why not? And we can take credit for our fabulous vaccine which probably didn’t achieve even a drop in the bucket. Compared to our natural immunity. But that definitely does not mean we should all go out and infect one another like rabbits.

    Reply
    1. Arizona Slim

      Excellent question.

      One of my local acquaintances is the daughter of a 1918 flu epidemic survivor. Acquaintance told me that, at the start of the epidemic, her mother was one of 13 children. When it ended, there were only three children left alive.

      The part of the story that really struck me was how my acquaintance’s mother, who was then a toddler, reacted to her ill siblings. Was she removed from the house? Not at all. She continued to live there. And she also hopped from bed to bed. Probably trying to see how everyone was doing. Or maybe she was comforting them.

      Did her mother get the flu? No. Did she live to a ripe old age? Yes.

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    2. Ignacio

      I am thinking on how this will unfold next high season. I believe there will be a nearly constant crop of cases and casualties as we no longer can afford fresh and long lockdowns. Yet, because of masks and improvements in treatments most cases will turn less severe and we will learn to live with less contact trying to avoid being the next victims. We might avoid the war-like situations we have seen in Hospitals. I don’t count on a vaccine being massively deployed next year at least in Spain. Other countries might rush for it soon even if it is quite an imperfect vaccine.

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  3. mle detroit

    I remember getting a polio vaccine injection at age 11 in 1955 or -6, and being sent with my classmates out to play softball for the rest of the morning, to spread the lump in our shoulders and reduce our discomfort.

    I also remember my father, maybe 35 years ago, reporting that a young mother had come in to his insurance agency to pay her premium. She and my father fell into conversation about polio, and a few minutes later, her son, age about 9, tugged on her sleeve and asked, “Mom, what’s polio?” My Dad said to me, “That was the most beautiful question I’ve ever heard.”

    May it be so for my grandchildren and Covid-19.

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    1. Ignacio

      And the vaccine was deployed for many years. By 1970 I had the second shot of the red sweet oral version in the school. I remember being very much impressed by the consequences of the disease when I was told that visible cases had been caused by polio.

      This article was excellent. I was almost forgetting the many examples of misinformation I just had witnessed a few months ago. In Spain Covid was soon turned into a political question and the conservatives/ultraconservatives now in the opposition didn’t waste a single minute starting from day 0 to use Covid as a tool to terminate with the recently elected progressive government. As in the case of Kuwait they issued videos and audios in which women (always women) presumably fake nurses, were crying the disasters in hospitals as if they were reporters in warzone. You could realise it was fake because they couldn’t control their discourses and it was obvious they just wanted to generate hysteria mixed with xenophobia “the hospital is filled with gypsies” and so on. Fortunately these campaigns failed to provoke angst in most of the population as they were rapidly identified as fake.

      Reply
  4. a different chris

    > The pattern in Cork was the same: most of the sick came from the more affluent parts of the city, while people living in the slums were largely unaffected.

    Is this true? Wikipedia doesn’t say anything about it, but I didn’t expect it to. Any other source(s)?

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  5. Tom Stone

    I got the Sabin Vaccine as a child, it was and still is one of the finest products of medical science.
    Here in the SF Bay area Malaria was endemic in Alameda until DDT was developed and we still have outbreaks of west Nile Virus and Western Equine Encephalitis.
    I was one of the unlucky ones to catch Encephalitis in 1959, the good news about catching it at an early age ( And not too severe a case) was that I pretty much regained full function with only 10 years of physical therapy.
    Unless new, effective antibiotics are developed a number of now common surgeries will become too dangerous to perform in the near future.

    Reply
  6. wilroncanada

    From the time my wife was a young girl, she visited a woman, whose family was friends with her mother, who was in hospital, in an iron lung, from polio. Later, after the rest of her family had stopped visiting, she continued, and after we met in the late 1960s I went with her. When we got married, Jean gave us a gift. It was a painting by a fellow polio victim in the. same hospital setting. It was painted by mouth. It holds a prominent place in our living room.

    Later her son, who had been cared for after Jean’s husband left her, by her mother and her brothers’ families, was inspired by his mother to become a family physician. His daughter is, in turn, also a family physician. When her son got married, he and his wife thought of no better place to hold the wedding than on the grounds of the hospital so his mother, along with her friends, the staff and other patients, could be wheeled out to be part of the ceremony. Yes, Jean lived long enough to see her son get married before she finally succumbed.

    They remain our friends

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  7. Kay Fabe

    1956-polio epidemic in Cork

    https://www.historyireland.com/20th-century-contemporary-history/the-1956-polio-epidemic-in-cork/

    Like in the US this may have been a public health /media terror campaign to usher in the polio vaccine in Ireland , which began in 1957. Not unlike COVID.

    Most of the Children in the 1956 outbreak were likely suffering from DDT poisoning. DDT was used in Ireland 1950s on children’s beds to kill bed fleas . 

    In the US DDT was sprayed on crowds and streets to kill mosquitoes and polio control although the 2 were not proven to be related

    In the US , concurrent to the polio vaccine which was rolled out in 1954-1955 with disastrous results, DDT use in households was beginning to be discouraged due to health concerns , and the CDC changed the case definition to reduce the number of reported cases

    Before the vaccine was in widespread use, many distinct diseases were grouped under the umbrella of “polio.” Only after the vaccine was widely accepted was there an effort to distinguish poliovirus from other types of paralytic disease. The following list represents a few that could have been categorized and documented as polio prior to 1958.

    Enteroviruses such as Coxsackie and ECHO Undiagnosed
    Arsenic and DDT toxicity
    Transverse myelitis
    Guillain-Barré syndrome Provocation of
    Hand, foot, and mouth disease
    Lead poisoning

    Specific polio diagnosis was not pursued with laboratory testing before 1958. The diagnostic criteria for polio were very loose prior to the field trials for the vaccine in 1954. Before the vaccine was deployed, health-care professionals were programmed to be on the lookout for polio.

    Prior to 1954 physician were encouraged /incentivized to report paralytic poliomyelitis since a diagnosis of polio meant the cost of hospitalization would be subsidized. Hospitals today are subsidized for reporting a case as COVID

    The criterion of diagnosis at that time in most health departments followed the World Health Organization definition: “Spinal paralytic poliomyelitis: signs and symptoms of nonparalytic poliomyelitis with the addition of partial or complete paralysis of one or more muscle groups, detected on two examinations at least 24 hours apart.” Note that “two examinations at least 24 hours apart” was all that was required.… Laboratory confirmation and presence of residual [longer than 24 hours] was not required.

    The practice among doctors before 1954 was to diagnose all patients who experienced even short-term paralysis (24 hours) with “polio.” In 1955, the year the Salk vaccine was released, the diagnostic criteria became much more stringent. If there was no residual paralysis 60 days after onset, the disease was not considered to be paralytic polio. This change made a huge difference in the documented prevalence of paralytic polio

    The change in 1955 meant that we were reporting a new disease, namely, paralytic poliomyelitis with a longer-lasting paralysis. Furthermore diagnostic procedures have continued to be refined.

    Coxsackie virus and aseptic meningitis have been distinguished from paralytic poliomyelitis. Prior to 1954 large numbers of these cases were mislabeled as paralytic poliomyelitis. Thus, simply by changes in diagnostic criteria, the number of paralytic cases was predetermined to decrease in 1955-1957, whether or not any vaccine was used.

    This is a favorite tactic of public health officials to inflate or deflate cases. Before a vaccine/treatment have a wildly loose definition and enlist the media to hysterically report increasing case counts, and then after rolling out the vaccine/treatment tighten the requirement for dx and declare victory, taking care to describe any serious side effects/adverse events from vaccines /treatment as coincidental and unrelated, if they are reported at all (only 1% of adverse effects from Vaccines get reported)

    Reply
    1. pricklyone

      Can you provide links to support any of that? There is none in your comment, and nothing in your link. DDT? Was in use in towns across USA for mosquito control. We used to ride our bikes behind the fogger trucks in the late ’60s. Where were the polio cases, then? There are many potential problems with DDT, but no reported deaths or paralysis I have found.

      Reply
      1. chris

        That’s the good thing about spreading nonsense; no need for references or proof. So one can blandly say “most of the Children (sic) on the 1956 outbreak were likely suffering from DDT poisoning”. This is a huge claim, somewhat similar to suggesting “most of the cases of COVID 19 were likely due to G5 exposure”; utter rubbish, but no onus of proof required. Then chuck in a bit of vaccine bashing (“taking care to describe any serious side effects/adverse events from vaccines /treatment as coincidental and unrelated, if they are reported at all (only 1% of adverse effects from Vaccines get reported”) based on no evidence whatsoever.

        Reply
  8. Eclair

    My mother’s cousin, born in the mid-1930’s, had polio, and was left with a weakened leg that had to be supported by a heavy metal and leather leg brace. She was only a few years older than I, with a younger sister who was my age, so the threat of polio was a very present factor in my childhood. That and never being allowed to swim in the local pond or municipal swimming pools during the summers when there was the threat of a local epidemic. I have a very clear memory of receiving, with gratitude, my first polio immunization from my uncle. One less worry!

    Cousin Pat went on to become a Catholic nun, nurse and hospital administrator. Perhaps influenced by her early experiences.

    Reply
  9. verifyfirst

    Thomas Jefferson
    A letter to John Norvell,
    1807

    “Nothing can now be believed which is seen in a newspaper. Truth itself becomes suspicious by being put into that polluted vehicle. I really look with commiseration over the great body of my fellow citizens, who, reading newspapers, live and die in the belief that they have known something of what has been passing in the world in their time. Perhaps an editor might begin a reformation in some such way as this: Divide his paper into four chapters, heading the first “Truths,” second “Probabilities,” third “Possibilities,” fourth “Lies.””

    The more things change…..with thanks to laphamsquarterly.org, which is free online, but certainly worth a subscription. This quote is from a Special Issue called A History of Fake News, if i recall….

    Reply

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