“Because the idea is so obviously self-defeating, the most reckless step in modern American history, I have not thought that at any point it was likely to happen,” adds Fallows — who’s argued against an Iran attack in the Atlantic’s pages — in his e-mail. “It is possible, of course, because arguably Bush and Cheney could muscle their way to ordering it. (It’s also conceivable that the resistance from the military would be significant enough to move it out of the straight executive-order-in-secret category.) But all of my reporting has made me doubt that it will (as opposed to could) occur.”
A related but distinct point is raised by Jonathan Landay, national security and intelligence correspondent for the McClatchy Company (formerly for Knight Ridder Inc.) and, like Fallows, one of a few reporters distinguished by his pre–Iraq War skepticism. It’s possible, Landay notes, that the war drums the Bush administration periodically sound are primarily intended to intimidate Iran and give the US diplomatic leverage. If so, the press risks becoming complicit in those efforts if it seizes on new displays of chest-thumping as evidence that an attack might be imminent. “If they want to turn up the volume, you end up helping them,” says Landay. “You have to be really careful. This is exactly what happened with the invasion of Iraq.”
These two concerns — that past prognostication hasn’t panned out, and that hyping the possibility of war could again make the press de facto stooges for the Bush administration — help explain why something like Admiral Mullen’s seeming change of heart about war with Iran might not be considered front-page news, or even news at all. But they’re less enlightening when it comes to other aspects of Iran coverage.
Consider, for example, the recent election of Ali Larijani as Speaker of the Iranian Parliament — which was almost certainly green lighted by Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, Iran’s supreme leader. Larijani is a tricky dude to figure out. He’s a conservative and a staunch supporter of Iran’s nuclear program. But he’s also a rival of Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and might challenge Ahmadinejad in next year’s presidential elections. In addition, though Larijani used his inaugural speech to lash out at a recent International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) report on Iran’s lack of disclosure regarding its burgeoning nuclear activities — he termed it “deplorable” — he’s also viewed as less confrontational than Ahmadinejad, and is interested in ratcheting down Iran’s ongoing confrontation with the West.
For all those reasons, you’d think that Larijani’s ascent would be considered a major news story. But it wasn’t treated that way. The Times ran its story on A6. The Wall Street Journal ran a brief on A10. The Washington Post didn't cover Larijani's election in the next day's paper. And, as of this writing, none of the network evening newscasts have mentioned it. [Please see correction, below.]
A few days before Larijani’s election, Suzanne DiMaggio, director of the Asian Social Issues Program at the Asia Society in New York, cited thin coverage of Iran’s internal politics as one abiding failing of the US press as a whole. “The Iranian regime is presented as this monolithic entity, which isn’t true,” DiMaggio told the Phoenix. “Yes, it is a theocracy. But there are many different levels in the decision-making system. There’s a parliament; there’s a national security council; there’s an office of the president; and most important, there’s Khamenei, the supreme leader. It’s much more complex than the way it’s portrayed.” Perhaps Larijani’s rise will prompt a flurry of coverage that renders obsolete this harsh assessment of the US media’s performance. But the early signs aren’t encouraging.