OPTIMISM FROM CAIRO
By J. L. HODSON T is not unnatural, perhaps, at the moment when our Eighth I Army in Libya has suffered a reverse, that one should hear growls concerning the " heartening " messages (and by "hearten- ing" the critics mean "misleading ") that came before the offensive, or in its earliest stages, from war correspondents in Cairo and Libya. The implication is that some correspondents were too opti- mistic, ought to have known the situation more accurately and reported better, and so forth. This is a complaint which has been made before, and will, doubtless, be made again. How far is it just, and if just, how far can it be remedied?
The critics' assumption is that it is unfortunate whenever the public finds itself surprised by the inexorable and unhappy drive of events ; and with that, few of us, I imagine, would disagree. A mind ill-prepared for shock may take that shock badly. A wise Director of Military Intelligence, working hand in hand with the war correspondents, will endeavour to pave the way. (I have known One, at all events who did, and I think with success.) But it is always difficult and sometimes next to impossible. I have no doubt my colleagues in Libya were well aware of approximately how many General Grant tanks we had, and—if that was the fact—of their comparative fewness. But how could they inform us without also informing von Rommel? I am not sure whether they were also aware of the nelg German 88 mm. anti-tank gun which has proved evastating in its fire (and which may possibly be a converted anti- aircraft gun). If they did, would writing of it in advance have assiIted us, or put Rommel wise as to what we knew, or have unduly depressed both our troops in Libya and the public at home?
Moreover, it is by no means certain that if an attempt to inform of the true position regarding the General Grant tank or of the mm. gun had been made, such a despatch would have been passed bY he censor. Censors, interpreting the mind of G.H.Q. (so far 15 Mey are able) are cautious men. (One, justly famed, delivered
himself of the dictum: "I never pass anything unless I have already seen it in print.") The correspondent is commonly possessed of a good deal of information before and during a battle which for obvious security reasons he does not attempt to include in his cables. Omitting that which would tell its own story, he will, if he is wise, strive to prevent false hopes arising. But, like the rest of us, he is fallible. Not always is he wise enough or skilful enough. Here and there one will think it is his duty to be cheerful at all costs. (And there are those at G.H.Q. and in his own newspaper office who will not like him the less for that. More than one of my colleagues has, after a severe struggle, got a critical despatch through G.H.Q., a despatch saying what ought to be said, only to have it squashed by his editor.) I should not like it to be thought, in setting down a few obvious difficulties that confront the correspondent in the field, that my view is that nothing can be improved. I daresay more truth can be told than now is told, without informing the enemy of that which will help him. Most of us had to strive hard, even after the last Libyan offensive had been proceeding for two or three weeks, to point out that our tanks were outgunned by Rommel's. I remem- ber posing the query as to when we were to have a dive-bomber or two, but the R.A.F. censor was meticulous in excising it. A remark that our air co-operation, improved as it was, was not yet perfect, set the wires humming between London and Cairo. Who had had the temerity to write that, and—worse—which censor had passed it? I have represented from time to time the opinion that the correspondent in the field has a duty not only to the armed force to which he is attached, but to the British Commonwealth as a whole, and that the censor would be wise, on occasion, to look on his duty in that light also. The reputation of a general, the fall from office of an individual, which may follow an exposure of failure to supply the right sort of equipment in time—of what account are these if our cause as a whole is benefited? Northcliffe's searchlight on the shell shortage was regarded as heinous in some quarers, but it was not long before most people saw his act as one of high courage and high value.
This war has shown, I think, how well our people react to adver- sity. Unpleasant truth, frankly told, can brace them. On the other hand, we tend to be too easily optimistic, we forget our Dunkirk* and Singapores too readily, we are prone to see in a temporary suc- cess a harbinger of swift victory. Too many think a Second Front can be begun next Monday, and that a German collapse will thereupon occur the Monday following. Because of this tendency, more blunt truth would be a service to our cause.
But the Press, which I have no doubt would on the whole welcome that blunt truth, does not always make it easy for the military authorities to do all that they might to assist. In Middle East a few months ago, the Officer Commanding Public Relations inquired of me what the number of my war correspondent's licence was. I told him, adding: "What number have we got to now—a hundred or so?" He replied: "The last number I have is 327." (A few days later it had risen to 365.) Not all, of course, are in Middle East. Several theatres of war, cameramen as well as writers, and American and Dominions correspondents in addition to British, ga to make up the total. But I still think it too large. In Arras in 1939 there were fifty or sixty or seventy of us. The number in Middle East to-day is not less, I think.
It is obvious that no army at war can afford good facilities to an unlimited number of correspondents. Nor can a G.H.Q. take a host of men of unequal quality into its close confidence ; it is natural too that the greater the numbers become, the more jealously will privileges both of movement and criticism be regarded. When a very large number of newspapers, agencies, broadcasting organise- dons and the like insist on appointing their own particular corre- spondents, the whole will be frustrated to a greater or less degree. That is what happened in May, 1940, during the retreat to Dun- kirk, for all of us were finally concentrated in Boulogne, our motor- cars were seized by G.H.Q. "for more important work," and our sources of news dried up as a stream in time of drought. When, lately, our combined forces seized Madagascar, only one war corre- spondent was present, and even his presence was, I think, largety, accidental ; and instead of his messages being available to the Press as a whole, only one or two journals enjoyed the benefit of his despatches.
The truth is that with our large and not particularly well-regu- lated numbers of correspondents, much of the war goes unobserved. No writer accompanied our 1,000-bomber raids, and as often as not, nobody is with the navy on its important occasions. The news- papers are perhaps too insistent and not insistent enough. It should be axiomatic by this time of day that no action of major import- ance occurs without one or two correspondents being present whose reports should be generally available. Resources are not made the best use of ; not enough pooling of men's work is resorted to. Some of our newspapers, in my judgement, are inclined to look on this war (half-unconsciously, I daresay) as some event akin to a notorious murder at the Crumbles or a cause Mare in the courts. Scoops" are of the first importance, "cheerful stories," putting the best possible complexion on things—these are set great store by. Competition, and again competition—that is the thing. Well, I do not think it is the best way to write the day-to-day history of this war, so far as it concerns our armed forces.
As a postscript there is this: Six months or so ago, it was noticed by the censors in Cairo that all the despatches written by a certain gentleman introduced the subjeot of tea. The soldiers were having a gruelling time—but tea revived them. The duties of such and such a service were manifold—but they always found time to go and put a kettle on the fire. The articles and stories the corre- spondent told were quite interesting, but they all lightly brought in the subject of tea. The writer was duly called up for question- ing. Yes, it was as the censors had suspected. He was working for , some tea industry or association or something of that sort.
All very amusing, but some little distance removed from Henry W. Nevinson or Philip Gibbs. But, if numbers grow to 365, what have you? as the Americans say.
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