[images added by
this website] [July
2004] THE
LIST: Judith
Miller is on it, but she's hardly alone. Ahmad
Chalabi's defectors told stories to a lot of
reporters who now wish they'd kept their distance
How Chalabi
Played the Press BY DOUGLAS McCOLLAM HANGING out in bad bars waiting
for sources to show up is a time-honored tradition
in journalism. So I suppose I shouldn't have been
too worried by the non-arrival of Entifadh
Qanbar, the spokesman for the Iraqi National
Congress's Washington office. Still, he had moved our meeting several times
and I had a lot of questions to ask him, especially
about a lengthy confidential memo he had submitted
to Congress in June 2002. The memo outlined
something called the Information Collection
Program, an INC operation that now appears to have
provided bogus information about Saddam
Hussein's weapons and terrorist connections to
the American government and to the press in the
run-up to the Iraq war. I had never met Qanbar before and couldn't raise
him on his cell phone, so I began to worry that he
might be, in classic sitcom fashion, in a booth on
the other side of the bar. When he walked into the
room, though, he wasn't hard to spot. His glossy
coif, well-cut blazer, and open-neck black shirt
stood out among the khakis-and-cell-phone-holster
crowd from the nearby Pentagon. Qanbar apologized for being late, then ordered a
beer and promptly got on his cell phone to Baghdad
for an extended conversation in Arabic. I could
only pick out a few words, including "Chalabi,"
"Aras," and "Bremer." The last name was followed by
a rough laugh, as if a joke had been told on the
other end of the line -- and not a nice one. That
impression was confirmed when Qanbar got off the
phone and began an extended rant about the failings
of Paul Bremer, head of the Coalition
Provisional Authority in Baghdad, who Qanbar
maintained was working with the CIA and State
Department to crush the INC at the behest of Arab
potentates fearing its political rise. With some difficulty, I managed to steer
Qanbar's attention to the memo he had sent to
Congress, and to a list it contained of 108 news
stories that, the INC said, included "product"
supplied by its Information Collection Program.
"Yes, this memo has become quite famous," he said
with a wry smile.
YES it has. In fact, perhaps no list of reporters
has commanded such attention in Washington since
Richard Nixon compiled his enemies list more
than thirty years ago. In the months since the INC
list was made public in a story by Jonathan
Landay, senior national correspondent for the
Washington bureau of Knight Ridder, it has taken on
an almost emblematic quality. Reporters appearing
on the list rail against the injustice of their
inclusion. Those who didn't make the cut
congratulate themselves anew for resisting the lure
of the INC and revel in the Schadenfreude of
watching others' once-envied scoops turn to ashes.
What few have done, it would appear, is take the
time to read all the stories. I did. The first thing that became apparent was
that the list is a bit of a hodge-podge. The 108
stories ran between October 2001 and the end of May
2002, a period when the INC was laboring mightily
to make sure that America's burgeoning "war on
terror" reached to the heart of Baghdad. Still,
about a quarter of the articles have little to do
with the INC's agenda of promoting the ouster of
Saddam Hussein; some even raise questions about
evidence supplied by the INC. The balance of the stories, however, advanced
almost every claim that would eventually become the
backbone of the Bush administration's case for war,
including Saddam Hussein's contacts with al Qaeda,
his attempts to develop nuclear weapons, and his
extensive chemical and bioweapons facilities -- all
of which are now in grave doubt. Similar stories appeared earlier and later, but
this nine-month period following the terrorist
attacks of 9/11 was crucial in creating the
perception that the Iraqi dictator was a grave
threat to the U.S. "The INC's agenda was to get us
into a war," says Helen Kennedy, a reporter
for the New York Daily News, whose name
appears on the list. "The really damaging stories
all came from those guys, not the CIA. They did a
really sophisticated job of getting it out
there."
A
FINE FELLOWSHIP The list includes
articles from nearly every blue-blooded news outfit
in America, including The New York Times, The
Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, The New
Yorker, Vanity Fair, Time, Newsweek, The Atlantic
Monthly, 60 Minutes, USA Today, the New York
Daily News, UPI, and Fox News. It also
contains numerous stories from the British
press. "I think something that hasn't gotten a lot of
attention is how [the INC] used the British
press to plant a lot of this stuff, some of it
pretty outlandish," says Robert Drogin of
the Los Angeles Times, who reported
extensively on Iraq before the war. Some Brits, of
course, point the finger back across the pond. "The
American media has big questions to ask itself,"
says Jamie Dettmer, a former foreign
correspondent for The Times of London and a
columnist for The Washington Times who now
lives in the U.S. "I've been utterly appalled by
the lack of skepticism about this entire Iraq
project and the war on terrorism" in the press.
Then again, Dettmer's name is on the list.
"Complete bollocks!" he shouted when told of his
inclusion. That
reaction sums up the feelings of Dettmer's
countryman Christopher Hitchens as well.
Though Hitchens was and remains an avid supporter
of the INC and Chalabi in his writings for
Vanity Fair, Slate, and other publications,
he insists he shouldn't be on the list. "As soon as
I found out," he says. "I wrote a friend at the INC
to say 'What the f*ck is this?'" Hitchens says he rarely used INC-supplied
defectors as sources, and never for WMD stories.
Mark Bowden, national correspondent for the
Atlantic, and author of the best-selling
book Black Hawk Down, had a similar
reaction. Bowden acknowledges using the INC to
locate defectors for his May 2002 Atlantic
piece "Tales of the Tyrant," but notes that his
story had nothing to do with WMD or secret terror
camps. In fact, Bowden says he actively rebuffed
attempts by INC people to steer his story in that
direction. "It was very obvious they were selling
something," Bowden says, "and I wasn't particularly
interested in what they were selling." Bowden says
he has no reason to question
the lurid stories told to him
by INC-supplied defectors about Saddam Hussein's
cruelty, but he adds that "to the extent it
makes it appear I was duped in some way by the INC,
I don't like being on that list and I don't think
that's true." In all, I called or wrote to about forty
reporters whose names appear on the list to ask
about their contacts with the INC in general and
their knowledge of the Information Collection
Program
in particular. Some, like The New York
Times's Judith Miller, (right),
who has become the poster child (somewhat unfairly,
in my view) for all that was wrong with the press
in the run-up to the Iraq war, did not call back.
Most others were willing to talk about the list
either on the record or on background. Some spoke
at length -- Hitchens treated me to a two-hour
dissertation on Iraq, which covered everything from
the importance of Ataturk to why radical Jihad was
more like Nazism than Stalinism. Others were more
terse and tetchy. Jim Hoagland at The
Washington Post, who has championed the INC for
years, abruptly hung up on me before calling back
to apologize graciously. Almost all played down the
INC's role in influencing their stories and said
they were aware of the group's agenda of regime
change, and included disclaimers to that effect in
their work. Nonetheless, a review of the list shows that the
Information Collection Program succeeded in heavily
influencing coverage in the Western press in the
run-up to the war. A report issued by the Defense
Intelligence Agency last fall concluded that
almost all the information
given to the government through the ICP and its
roster of defectors before the war was
useless -- but nonetheless the information
received prominent play in our leading newspapers,
magazines, and television newscasts. When I asked
Qanbar about the program's influence on the media
before the war, he shrugged and responded: "We did
not provide information. We provided defectors. We
take no position on them. It's up to you reporters
to decide if they are credible or not."
PAYING
FOR INFORMATION The roots of the
Information Collection Program lie in the 1998 Iraq
Liberation Act, in which the U.S. authorized $97
million for various programs designed to promote
"democratic reforms" in the country. Ahmad
Chalabi (right) and his conservative
allies in Congress played a central role in the
passage of the act. By that time, Chalabi's INC, which was formed
with American sponsorship after the first Gulf War,
had already established something of a spotty
record with the CIA and the State Department.
Nonetheless, over the next two years $35 million
went to seven opposition groups, with about $17.3
million of that going to the INC (in all, the INC
would receive about $33 million from the government
between March 2000 and May 2003). According to a
State Department audit, the initial grants were
intended to help the INC establish radio and
television broadcasts into Iraq, and to "implement
a public information campaign to communicate with
Iraqis inside and outside Iraq and also to
promulgate its message to the international
community at large." According to a March
[2004] letter
from Senators Carl Levin and John
Kerry asking the General Accounting Office to
investigate the INC, the terms of the group's
agreement with the State Department strictly barred
the INC from "attempting to influence the policies
of the United States government or Congress, or
propagandizing the American people." The letter
asks the GAO to determine if any taxpayer funds
were used to obtain media exposure for defectors or
to transport them to meetings with American
journalists. Laura Kopelson, a GAO
spokeswoman, said the agency would examine the
charges as part of a larger investigation into
government spending on Iraq, which would get under
way this summer. There is little doubt that influencing public
opinion through the American and European media was
always central to the INC's mission (of the 108
stories on Qanbar's list, fifty appeared in U.S.
news outlets). One of the first uses for the Iraq
Liberation Act funds was to hire the giant public
relations firm Burson-Marsteller.
Burson-Marsteller's INC team was led by Gavin
Grant, a London-based managing director.
Levinson did not return calls seeking
comment, but Ken Rietz, Burson-Marsteller's
chief operating officer, said the firm represented
the INC for about three years, with the contract
discontinued in July 2003. Rietz described the work
as setting up meetings with journalists and talking
with members of the media on behalf of the INC. He
declined to disclose how much the firm was
paid.
FOLLOWING
THE MONEY From the start, the INC's
relationship with the State Department over the
Iraq Liberation Act funding was strained. According
to Allen Kieswetter, who had a role in
overseeing the funding from 2000 to July 2001 as
deputy assistant secretary for Near Eastern
Affairs, the State Department was very skeptical
about the Information Collection Program. "We
agreed to it with a great deal of reluctance and
put in as many safeguards as we could," Kieswetter
said. The INC claimed the program was to develop
information for their broadcasting and publishing
ventures, but Kieswetter said he viewed that as a
fig leaf. "I think everyone always assumed that
[the ICP] was far broader than that." Given
the covert nature of the program, he recommended
that it be transferred out of the State Department.
"We aren't really in the intelligence business,"
says Kieswetter. The State Department also had
difficulty tracking how ICP money was being used.
In May 2002, State dropped funding for the
program. The problems with the information program had
caught the full attention of members of the Senate
Appropriations Committee. Patrick Leahy of
Vermont, then the chairman, put the INC's money on
hold and asked the subcommittee on foreign
operations to conduct a full soup-to-nuts review of
the program. The committee's staff held a series of meetings
with Chalabi, Qanbar, and other INC operatives,
asking about the specific purpose of the
information program and how the money was being
used. According to people involved in those
meetings, the answers were vague. The program was
supposed to beam news into Iraq through its
"Liberty TV" network, for example, but it was
unclear if the signal could be picked up inside the
country. The program also put out an opposition
newspaper, Al Mutamar, but it wasn't
available inside Iraq except on the Internet. The most controversial part of the Information
Collection Program was its intelligence-gathering
operation. Senate investigators were told by people
in the State Department that the INC was handing
out cash in the field and saying it couldn't
account for the money because there were "no
receipts" in intelligence work. "This was clearly
an ill-conceived, poorly managed program that
received money largely because of its political
connections," says Tim Rieser, the minority
clerk for the Foreign Operations subcommittee. "The
Congress is responsible for the money and our
question was 'What are we getting for that
money?'" On June 26, 2002, in an effort to answer that
question and free up the INC's funding, Entifadh
Qanbar submitted his lengthy confidential
memorandum to the Foreign Operations subcommittee
describing the purpose and practices of the
Information Collection Program. The program, the
memo stated, was "designed to collect, analyze, and
disseminate" information from Iraq. "Defectors,
reports, and raw intelligence are cultivated
and analyzed and the results are reported through
the INC newspaper [Al Mutamar], the
Arabic and Western media, and to appropriate
governmental, nongovernmental, and international
agencies." Specifically, the memo continued, ICP
information was given to William Luti,
deputy assistant secretary of defense, and John
Hannah, special assistant for national security
for Vice President Dick Cheney
(left). The memo contained their direct
phone numbers. It also included "a summary of ICP
product cited in major English-language news
outlets." This was the list of 108 stories.
AFTER the memo's existence was first reported by
Newsweek in December
[2003], both
Luti and Hannah denied receiving defector
intelligence from the ICP. Interestingly, Allen
Kieswetter notes that during his tenure at Near
Eastern Affairs both Luti and Hannah sat in on
meetings between State and the INC. When I asked
Qanbar whether Luti and Hannah got material
directly from the information program, he brushed
it aside, claiming that what he had meant to say in
the memo was that they received the information
when it was reported in the media. I asked if that meant the defectors were handed
over to the media first, and then to intelligence
officials. He said some defectors were useful for
intelligence and some for the media. In general,
Qanbar declared, the memo had been written to get
the State Department off the INC's back and to
prove that the group was producing something of
value. When I asked specifically about the story list,
Qanbar said that the memo had been prepared by
others at the INC and that he had merely signed it.
Where had the story list come from? Qanbar said he
wasn't sure; the Information Collection Program was
separate from his office. Who was in charge of it?
Qanbar shrugged. "Aras," he said. "Aras Habib?" I asked. "Yes," Qanbar
replied. A week before our interview Habib (sometimes
referred to as Aras Karim Habib) had disappeared
from Baghdad after a warrant was issued for his
arrest on charges that he was spying for the
Iranian government. Habib was suspected of, among
other things, passing top-secret information he got
from Chalabi to the Iranians. At Daily
News's press time, he had not been found. (The
INC has denied the charge.) Understandably, the possibility that an Iranian
spy was managing the INC's Iraqi defector program
fills some reporters on Qanbar's list with anxiety.
"I'd be shocked and completely horrified if Aras
was working for Iranian intelligence," says
David Rose, who wrote several pieces for
Vanity Fair about Iraq's weapons program in
which he used INC defectors as sources. "I knew INC
had connections to Iran but if they were on the
Iranian payroll I'll be completely smackered."
BAD
CONNECTIONS Several reporters and
editors I spoke with recalled that soon after 9/11
the INC started offering them defectors with
stories linking Saddam Hussein to international
terrorism. Michael Isikoff from
Newsweek remembers going to a dinner that
fall hosted by Francis Brooke, a longtime
Chalabi aide, at Kincaids, a Washington, D.C.,
restaurant. The purpose, apparently, was to
introduce Isikoff to Sabah Khalifa Khodada,
an Iraqi army defector who claimed to know about a
secret training camp near Salman Pak, twenty miles
south of Baghdad, where Hussein was training
Islamic extremists. "It was me, Brooke, and about
nine Iraqis," Isikoff recalls. "The defector didn't
speak English and I really didn't know what to make
of the whole thing or have any way to evaluate the
story so I didn't write about it." The INC found a more receptive audience at
The Washington Post. In October 2001 the
group brought Khodada to meet Jim Hoagland,
associate editor and chief foreign correspondent
for the Post, who wrote a column using the
defector's story. Published on October 12, 2001,
and headlined WHAT ABOUT
IRAQ? it is the first article on the ICP
list. In it Hoagland described "accumulating
evidence of Iraq's role in sponsoring the
development on its soil of weapons and techniques
for international terrorism." The piece featured
the interview with Khodada and also used
information sourced to a second INC defector, an
ex-Iraqi intelligence officer holed up in Ankara,
Turkey, who claimed Islamists were trained for
hijackings on a Boeing 707 parked at the Salman Pak
camp. Hoagland concluded by criticizing the CIA for
not pursuing a possible Iraq connection to the 9/11
attack. When I asked Hoagland about the column, he
offered several defenses. One was that he had
acknowledged in the piece that the INC had put him
in touch with Khodada (even before Khodada talked
with the FBI), and that the INC had relayed the
information from the ex-intelligence officer in
Ankara. Second, the piece made clear that neither
man had supplied definitive proof tying Saddam to
9/11, and that neither should be believed
automatically. "It was an opinion piece that is
caveated," Hoagland said. "It basically raised the
question of whether the intelligence agencies
should listen to these people." There still remain claims and counterclaims
about what was going on at Salman Pak. But the
consensus view now is that the camp was what Iraq
told UN weapons inspectors it was -- a
counterterrorism training camp for army commandos.
Drogin of the Los Angeles Times says that
the CIA never believed that terrorists were trained
at the camp, and that there is no evidence they
were. He notes that a 2002 White House white paper
attributed all information about foreign terrorists
training at Salman Pak to secondary sources. "If
they attribute it to someone else," Drogin says,
"it means they really don't think it's true. No one
will put their credibility on the line for it."
Knight Ridder's Landay, who has also looked into
Salman Pak, says his sources don't find it credible
that Hussein was engaged in terrorism training.
"Why would Saddam run a training camp for Islamic
terrorists involving hijacking planes and trains in
full view of American satellites and spy planes?"
Landay says. "And why would terrorists go there
when they had the same kind of camps in
Afghanistan?" Nonetheless, the Salman Pak story gained
traction in the press. A few weeks after Hoagland's
column, Chris Hedges of The New York Times
wrote a page-one piece headlined
DEFECTORS CITE IRAQI TRAINING FOR
TERRORISM. In it Hedges used three
INC-supplied defectors: Khodada; the Ankara-based
defector (later identified in other stories as
Abu Zeinab al-Qurairy, a former Iraqi
general and senior officer in the Mukhabarat, the
Iraqi intelligence service); and an Iraqi sergeant,
also from the Mukhabarat. The two intelligence
officers in the story spoke of groups of forty to
fifty Islamic militants being trained in the camp
at a time, performing drills on how to hijack a
plane without using weapons. The two defectors also
told of a guarded compound within Salman Pak where
a German scientist was producing biological
weapons. The article included several caveats about
the information, but noted that such stories would
probably fuel "an intense debate in Washington over
whether to extend the war against Osama bin
Laden and the Taliban government of Afghanistan
to include Iraq." Hedges's article, and another by him that
followed a few days later, was the result of a
joint project of the Times and the PBS
series Frontline, which produced a related
documentary called GUNNING FOR
SADDAM. When I talked to Hedges about his
Salman Pak stories, he said they were based on
interviews with sources identified by Lowell
Bergman, a correspondent for Frontline
and also a reporter for the Times. "I was
based in Paris and Lowell couldn't get to Beirut to
do the interviews so at the last minute I went to
fill in," Hedges said. He confirms that the meetings with the defectors
for his stories for the Times and
Frontline were set up by the INC -- and so
reported -- and the INC sent staff members with
Hedges for interviews in London and Beirut. "They
were very present, shepherding and arranging
things," Hedges recalls. He felt "pretty certain"
that the person in charge of the meetings was the
now-wanted Aras Habib. At the time there was no
reason to question Bergman's reporting, he says.
"We tried to vet the defectors and we didn't get
anything out of Washington that said 'these guys
are full of shit.'" Bergman, meanwhile, says the stories came about
as part of a post-9/11 effort by Frontline
to update all the documentaries about Saddam
Hussein, al Qaeda, and Saudi Arabia. "The people
involved appeared credible and we had no way of
getting into Iraq ourselves," Bergman says. He,
too, notes that both the Times pieces and
the Frontline documentary stated clearly
that the INC had supplied the defectors. "We did
the best we could do at the time, but a lot of
questions remain unanswered and are worth more
reporting." Two or three times a year during his stint in
Paris, Hedges says he got calls from the
Times asking him to check out INC defector
stories. "Chalabi would say something to New York
and the next thing I know I'm on a train heading
for London," Hedges says. He had known Chalabi for
more than a decade, Hedges adds, but never trusted
him. "I thought he was unreliable and corrupt, but
just because someone is a sleazebag doesn't mean he
might not know something or that everything he says
is wrong." One story that set off warning bells for
him, Hedges says, was Chalabi's attempt to push a
story about the 9/11 hijacker Mohammed
Atta's meeting with Iraqi intelligence agents
in Prague. The meeting, which received wide play in
the media, was later dismissed by the CIA as
fiction. "Chalabi pushed really hard but I just
didn't buy it," Hedges says. Chalabi seemed to have an "endless stable" of
defectors to talk with reporters, he adds. "He had
defectors for any story you wanted. He tried to
introduce me to this guy who said he knew about
Iraqi spies on the UN inspection teams: the guy was
a thug. I didn't trust either of them."
GOING
NUCLEAR No doubt the most alarming
prewar fears about Saddam Hussein centered on his
ambition to develop or acquire nuclear weapons.
President Bush famously claimed that America
couldn't wait for smoking-gun evidence of Saddam
Hussein's nuclear program that "could come in the
form of a mushroom cloud." One of the key stories
bolstering that fearful image (in addition to
accounts of Iraq's acquiring "yellow cake" uranium
from Niger, and special aluminum tubes used to
enrich uranium -- assertions that proved false),
was the front-page story in The New York
Times by Judith Miller on December 20,
2001, headlined IRAQI TELLS OF
RENOVATIONS AT SITES FOR CHEMICAL AND NUCLEAR
ARMS. The piece ran after the INC arranged a
meeting for Miller in Bangkok with Adnan Ihsan
Saeed Al-Haideri, an Iraqi civil engineer who
claimed to have visited at least twenty secret
weapons sites. As with other ICP defectors, Miller was given
access to Al-Haideri even before U.S. intelligence
services. Miller did not return calls seeking
comment on this story, but Stephen
Engelberg, a former Times editor who
worked on the piece and is now with The
Oregonian in Portland, says that everyone
involved with the story, including Miller, realized
that the information had to be treated with some
skepticism. Engelberg, who also co-authored the
book Germs with Miller, notes that the piece
is loaded with caveats and that the INC's
involvement in arranging the meeting is mentioned
high in the story. "I guess the question you get to
is whether you should run such pieces at all," says
Engelberg. "We decided to qualify it and let the
readers decide." None of the weapons sites -- which Al-Haideri
claimed were located beneath hospitals and behind
palaces -- have [sic.
has] ever been located. But Entifadh
Qanbar continues to defend the information
Al-Haideri gave to Miller. "We served together in
the military for four years," Qanbar told me. "The
guy is trustworthy." Al-Haideri never really
claimed he knew about actual weapons of mass
destruction, Qanbar says. "He never said 'I worked
on WMD.' He said, 'Things I worked on were for
WMD.'" Miller's Al-Haideri story ricocheted through
America and the world. In the days following her
report, news outlets around the world picked up the
story, broadcasting Al-Haideri's tale -- largely
without the qualifiers that appeared in Miller's
piece. The Defense Intelligence Agency later termed
his information worthless.
TRAILERS
OF DEATH Print journalists weren't alone
in buying the information program's "product." In
March 2002, 60 Minutes broadcast an
interview by Lesley Stahl with a defector,
later identified as Mohammed Harith, another
former Mukhabarat officer, who claimed to have
personal knowledge of Saddam Hussein's mobile
biological weapons labs. In the piece, which
profiled the INC and its efforts to overthrow
Hussein, Harith said he personally bought seven
refrigerated trucks that would serve as mobile
bioweapons labs. He painted the same picture on a
much broader canvas in the May 2002 issue of
Vanity Fair. In an article by David Rose,
Harith claimed that, in addition to the mobile
labs, Hussein was close to building a new
long-range missile. He also told of a trip to
Africa to buy radioactive materials for a dirty
bomb from renegade Russians. He spoke of a chemical
weapons factory in Samarra and a bioweapons lab in
the suburbs of Baghdad. And so on. In the piece,
Rose effusively praised the INC's defector
operation, going so far as to say it resembled
"nothing so much as the Underground Railroad, the
clandestine network which rescued slaves from the
American South before the Civil War." Harith's tales, needless to say, haven't quite
panned out. To date, none of the things he
described have [sic.
has] been found in Iraq nor does anyone
think they will be, and in May Vanity Fair
issued a half-hearted retraction of the story. Of all the reporters I spoke with for this
article, none seemed as devastated by the INC's
fall from grace as Rose. Perhaps that's because no
one, not even Judith Miller, swallowed and
regurgitated more ICP hogwash. Rose concedes that
he fell victim to a misinformation campaign and
says he wishes he'd been more circumspect. "I feel
profound regret over that piece," Rose confesses.
"Harith wasn't telling the truth but I took every
step reasonable to establish that these were
credible assertions." On the whole, Rose says, he's
not ready to dismiss all that INC defectors told
him: "Clearly some of the information was rubbish,
but some of it was accurate." He still believes
much of what he was told by defectors about
Hussein's human rights violations. 60
Minutes also issued a mea culpa on its Harith
story, confronting Chalabi on air about the false
claims (Chalabi deflected responsibility to the CIA
for failing to vet the information). But Richard
Bonin, the producer of the 60 Minutes
segment, says he thinks, when taken in context,
Harith's claims on the show didn't do much damage.
"We weren't presenting the story as a scoop," Bonin
says. "We were presenting it as a part of the INC's
lobbying campaign to establish its
credibility." Though Harith's story was flagged as suspect by
the CIA, his tale still had enough life to
influence Secretary of State Colin Powell's
February 2003 briefing to the United Nations. (Vice
President Cheney was still talking up the mobile
bioweapons labs as recently as January of this year
[2004]). In
recent months, Powell has repeatedly said he feels
duped by the INC on this issue. Predictably,
Entifadh Qanbar says Powell's anger at the INC is
misplaced. "We provided only one of four sources on
these mobile labs," Qanbar says. "And he was not
believed" by the CIA.
INTO
THE ECHO CHAMBER Qanbar's comment raises
the issue of just how pervasive the ICP's influence
was before the war. By implication his statement
denies that the INC was connected to a second
defector -- code-named Curveball -- provided
to German intelligence, who was a prime source for
Powell's mobile-labs statement at the UN. But
intelligence sources have repeatedly asserted that
they believe Curveball to be the brother of
an INC official, something the group continues to
deny. In a front-page story for the Los Angeles
Times last month, Bob Drogin reported that
intelligence sources he spoke with now suspect that
the INC fed defectors to at least eight foreign
intelligence agencies to create an echo effect
among Western governments. Whether that proves true
or not, there is no doubt that the INC achieved
something similar in the Western media. In addition
to writing the articles appearing on the list,
reporters frequently went on talk shows to talk up
their stories. Rose, for example, made at least two
appearances on the Today show, to discuss
the more alarming aspects of his pieces. Even
Mark Bowden, whose Atlantic article had
little to do with WMD, jumped into speculation
about Saddam Hussein's terrorist training camps
while being interviewed on NPR -- though his story
contained no information about such camps. Some news organizations, it should be noted, did
look askance at the Information Collection
Program's defectors. And a few reporters deserve
special recognition for their work in exposing
problems with the program, including Drogin,
Michael Isikoff and Mark Hosenball at
Newsweek, and Jonathan Landay of
Knight-Ridder. It was Hosenball, along with his
reporting partner Isikoff, who first documented the
existence of the ICP memo to Congress in December
2003. Landay's articles first brought to light the
program's list of media stories and exposed many of
the defectors' tales as suspect. Though the INC now tries to minimize the
influence the Information Collection Program had on
the press, Landay says he believes it was critical
in shaping coverage of the prelude to the Iraq war.
Just how much remains in contention. The INC claims
it supplied just three defectors to the media
through the ICP. But by my count it's at least six:
the three who talked about Salman Pak; al-Haideri;
Mohammed Harith; and a sixth defector who talked
with The Kansas City Star about seeing an
American pilot, Scott Speicher, who was
reported missing in action in the first Gulf War,
in a jail in Baghdad. As noted, some think the
tally might go quite a bit higher.
THE question that lingers is, Why did the press
so ravenously gobble up the tales supplied by the
Information Collection Program? Was it simple
hunger for scoops? Both supporters and critics of
the INC note that after the UN inspection teams
left Iraq in 1998, U.S. intelligence about what was
happening inside the country was next to nil. That vacuum, many reporters noted, left the
perfect opportunity for the information program to
flourish. While veteran reporters knew the CIA and
State Department were skeptical of INC-produced
information, they knew they had nothing better.
Reporters were also influenced by knowledge that
the CIA has long had an institutional bias against
defectors, dating back to the cold war. James Jesus Angleton, a creator of the
CIA's counterintelligence operation, had been
famously derisive about defectors, and that
institutional bias remained with the agency, much
to its detriment during stretches of the cold war.
When I was discussing the Information Collection
Program with The Oregonian's Stephen
Engelberg, who covered the CIA for The New York
Times in the 1980s, I brought up Angleton and
his famous quote that defectors and
counterespionage in general were a "forest of
mirrors" where anyone could get lost. Engelberg agreed, but noted that Angleton
actually called espionage a "wilderness" of
mirrors. That phrase was coined not by Angleton but
T.S. Eliot (whom Angleton worshiped) in his
poem "Gerontion." It contains a passage perhaps all
reporters should consider: - History has many cunning passages,
contrived corridors
- And issues, deceives with whispering
ambitions,
- Guides us by vanities.Think now
- She gives when our attention is
distracted
- And what she gives, gives with such
supple confusions
- That the giving famishes the
craving.
© 2004
Columbia Journalism Review at Columbia
University's Graduate School of
Journalism -
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