The devastation [in Jenin] was horrifying, and far larger than the 100m by 100m which the Israeli army subsequently defined as the area of damage. Among the first people we met were two small Palestinian children, inside a half-bulldozed house which was in danger of collapsing on their heads. Other children were wandering around Jenin's now notorious field of ruins, which turned out to be littered with unexploded munitions, leading people to buildings containing fetid-smelling corpses. I was – I freely admit this – both appalled and furious. I felt then, as I do now, that Israel's actions would in the long run only lead to more suicide bombings against Israeli civilians. (These did not take long to resume). I felt then, as I do now, that it was an act of collective punishment against many innocent civilians. And I felt, as I do now, that the horrendous attacks against Israelis by Palestinian suicide bombers do not absolve Israel's government from its responsibility to respect international law.
The Independent (U.K.)
Saturday, August 3, 2001
Commentary
Phil Reeves: Even journalists have to admit they're wrong sometimes
03 August 2002
One of the hardest aspects of covering the Middle East is admitting to a mistake. A veteran commentator once told me that it was usually best to fudge the issue. This was not because of any desire on his part to be dishonest, but because of the risk that such an admission will be exploited and distorted by the region's many propagandists.
He has a powerful point. Foreign correspondents who have been covering the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians have grown used to working under constant verbal assault from lobbyists who quote their work out of context.
Yet I disagree with him. Impartial readers of serious newspapers are well aware that errors of fact and judgement happen in journalism, especially amid the hectic pace, horror and confusion of a war. Contrary to popular belief, most journalists dislike getting it wrong – and prefer to set the record straight.
Two days ago, one of my mistakes came back to haunt me. I was travelling in a taxi through Cambridge when the news began on the car radio. A United Nations report into Israel's offensive against the main Palestinians towns in the West Bank last Spring has found that there was no massacre in Jenin refugee camp, said the headline. The driver gave a bored sigh and turned off the radio in favour of a CD.
But, to me, it was a jolt. It was clear that the debate over the awful events in Jenin four months ago is still dominated by whether there was a massacre, even though it has long been obvious that one did not occur.
Other crucial issues – the evidence, for example, of individual atrocities committed by the Israeli army, and the question of whether Israel's major military offensive in the West Bank was either a legitimate or an effective response to the (utterly unjustifiable) murder of Israeli civilians by Palestinian suicide bombers – have generally been overshadowed. This is precisely what Israel's government publicists must have hoped would happen.
Palestinian officials must bear much blame for this. Some days after the fighting subsided in Jenin – after claiming the lives of 23 Israeli soldiers and an estimated 52 Palestinian fighters and civilians – I telephoned a very senior Palestinian official to see whether he would now at least privately concede that claims of a massacre were untrue. "No," he replied, "There is no question there was a massacre. It definitely happened." By then, I was sure he was wrong. I suspect he did, too.
But, regrettably, I also made a contribution. On 15 April, I was among a small number of foreign correspondents who sneaked into Jenin refugee camp at considerable personal risk. The Israeli army had declared the camp, which is on land which is supposed to be under Palestinian autonomous rule, to be a "closed military zone" and were barring access to the press, ambulances and aid agencies.
It is a day that I prefer not to remember, but will never forget. The devastation was horrifying, and far larger than the 100m by 100m which the Israeli army subsequently defined as the area of damage. Among the first people we met were two small Palestinian children, inside a half-bulldozed house which was in danger of collapsing on their heads. Other children were wandering around Jenin's now notorious field of ruins, which turned out to be littered with unexploded munitions, leading people to buildings containing fetid-smelling corpses.
I was – I freely admit this – both appalled and furious. I felt then, as I do now, that Israel's actions would in the long run only lead to more suicide bombings against Israeli civilians. (These did not take long to resume). I felt then, as I do now, that it was an act of collective punishment against many innocent civilians. And I felt, as I do now, that the horrendous attacks against Israelis by Palestinian suicide bombers do not absolve Israel's government from its responsibility to respect international law.
My report that day – written by candle-light in the damaged refugee home in the camp, where we spent the night – was highly personalised. Its intention was to try to convey a sense of what it was like inside the camp from which the outside world had, for days, been barred.
In the preceding days, Israeli army officials and the Palestinians had been talking about three-figure casualties. We – wrongly – said the same. The reality has turned out to be closer to 75. Palestinian allegations that there was a mass grave in the camp also failed to stand up.
Ten days later, my colleague Justin Huggler and I, produced a 3,000 word article – after five days of exhaustive interviews conducted alongside Human Rights Watch (HRW) – saying there was no proof to substantiate allegations of a massacre, but plenty of evidence of atrocities, including the death of more than 20 Palestinian civilians.
By then, the pro-Israel lobby in the United States was pounding out articles condemning much of the European press, especially the British media, whom it accused of hysteria. . Only a few brave Israelis on the left – notably, Uri Avnery – continued to challenge the legitimacy and purpose of the army's conduct in the West Bank irrespective of the fact that the massacre allegations were false.
It is to this issue – as the killing of nine Palestinian children in an Israeli air strike proved so horribly last week – still remains unresolved. It – and not false charges of massacres – is what the international community should be address