Foreign correspondence, especially that reportage from the Middle East and other redoubts of dictatorship, is a house of cards. That’s the conclusion of Joris Luyendijk, the former Dutch correspondent who spent five years reporting from Cairo, Beirut, Jerusalem, and other regional hotspots. People Like Us, however, is more than a simple accounting of his time on the ground. Instead, it’s a hard-hitting critique of the news business, of the concerted efforts to shape what that business reports, and of the often illiterate consumers of that reporting.
Readers might be forgiven for looking to another more influential critic of the news business, the former New Yorker journalist A.J. Liebling, to succinctly capture the spirit of Luyendijk’s short and utterly readable book. For it was Liebling that said famously, “Journalism is what somebody doesn’t want you to print. The rest is publicity.” By describing how foreign reporting works, or more aptly, how it doesn’t work, Luyendijk is able to convincingly extirpate any notion that it’s possible for the casual observer to really understand the situation on the ground in culturally distant or undemocratic places.
Luyendijk writes about his former profession in the same jaded way that an ex-wife might air out the dirty laundry of her former spouse. And though one sided, his account is refreshingly forthright in a way that a current journalist could never be. Furthermore, he doesn’t shy away from self-critique. He very candidly describes his inability to reestablish friendships with ordinary Egyptians that he had met while earlier studying at university there. He says that absent those work-a-day relationships, it was impossible for him to report norms, only distortions. Rather than being a participant-observer, in the classic model of anthropology, he was doomed to be only a removed onlooker.
Being likened to an anthropologist may be the highest form of praise any journalist can receive. But in reading People Like Us it becomes readily apparent that the discipline of anthropology may even be a more appropriate course of study than journalism school for aspiring foreign reporters. “It was a Catch 22 situation: In order to hear what was going on, I needed ‘local contacts’; yet I’d only get those contacts by living in a way that was incompatible with the life of a correspondent,” he writes. One suspects that his remove from those people he was reporting about is not unique to journalists, but to diplomats as well.
At the same time, Luyendijk has a playful and light-hearted streak when it comes to his work. Though not all of the humor translates well from the original Dutch text, he does relate some humorous stories, such as that of doing an interview with Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah in the pious group’s public relations office which happens to sit one floor above a large intimate apparel retailer in South Beirut. In another moment, he relates how he would playfully mock his Palestinian interlocutors who suspected that a Jewish conspiracy could explain media coverage of the region. In the middle of their conversations, Luyendijk would look at his watch and say, “Can I just make a call? My secret boss in Israel is going to dictate tomorrow’s article to me.”
Luyendijk also writes with great force and lucidity about news stories being ‘precomposed’ by governments. His examples range from the Sudanese showing melted pill bottles at a pharmaceutical factory just struck by a U.S. missile to Gazans throwing out baby clothes onto the wreckage of a building just destroyed by Israeli airstrikes. With convincing detail, he describes the media life cycle of a terrorist attack in Israel and also quotes a U.S. military official telling a gathering of foreign reporters at the outset of the Iraq War that they need not worry, that “we’re going to make sure that after the war your boss comes up to you and gives you a slap on the back and compliments you on what a fine job you’ve done.”
The true indictment, however, is not of government spin agents, but instead of editors worshipping at the alter of simplification and nationalistic bias. Robert McChesney, the noted scholar of American mass media might argue that the root of the problem lies not with editors, but with the corporatization of the news business. Others, such as National Public Radio reporter and media critic Brooke Gladstone, have suggested that we get the media we deserve, and that it is a reflection of ourselves. Either way, there couldn’t be a more searing indictment than Luyendijk intoning, “If the Western mass media had done their jobs during the war, viewers would have set in front of their television sets crying and vomiting.”
What perhaps makes People Like Us most prescient, however, is what it has to say about the possibility for democratic change in the Middle East. “Try imagining this report,” Luyendijk writes, “Today in Kuwait, thousands of people marched against Western support of their dictators. They demanded the dismantlement of the secret Western bank accounts in which dictators hoard their loot, and chanted slogans against the generous commissions that Western defense companies pay out to dictators and their entourages. Banners displayed protests against Western training and armament of the Arab secret services who torture and murder on a large scale.” Of course reading such a report today, following the Arab Spring, is entirely imaginable, but when the book was published in 2006, such a report would have been farfetched. Yet, this was precisely the point. Journalists covering the numerous summits and other non-events that shaped news coverage from the region were never going to be able to foresee the mass movements that have shaped Arab politics over the past year.
Though it is far from clear that either the refreshing breeze of the Arab Spring or a new model of more ethnographic reporting will be enough to topple the house of cards that shapes the region’s reporting, Luyendijk has done an admirable job of pulling the curtains open behind the great and powerful wizard that is the mainstream media. While certainly there is another side to the story, one that a more connected and seasoned reporter from the region might be able to tell, this book is a good reminder to the casual media consumer that all is not what it appears in the news. Distortion often trumps reality and it’s very difficult to do good reporting amidst repressive and non-democratic regimes. © Jeffrey L. Otto October 8, 2011