ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Friday, May 24, 1996 TAG: 9605240032
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-9 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: VINCE PASSARO
ON NATIONAL Public Radio last Friday morning, the day after Adm. Jeremy M. Boorda committed suicide outside his Washington home, it was reported that a request by NPR to interview Evan Thomas, Washington bureau chief of Newsweek, had been refused.
Thomas was one of the two Newsweek correspondents who arrived at the Pentagon last week to interview the chief of naval operations about possible indiscretions in his wearing of certain service ribbons, only to learn he had just shot himself. NPR said a Newsweek spokeswoman told the broadcast service that the magazine had ``concerns that Newsweek will be blamed for hounding a distinguished military leader to death.''
Newsweek is correct - this is exactly what some people, indeed many people, believe. To commit suicide over this story certainly indicated Boorda nursed other wounds, was fighting other demons. But the essential connection between Newsweek's investigation and the moment Boorda chose is pretty hard to miss. Interestingly, when an assistant of mine called Newsweek on my behalf to verify the NPR quote, we were told that Newsweek would fax us only its official statement and answer no other questions. The statement was brief and uncontroversial. As spokesman for an institution too often in the news over the last nine months, I almost sympathized with the media giant. Glancing at the minimalist news release, the words ``been there, done that'' passed inadvertently through my mind.
I assume most journalists would be defensive and even surprised by the severe conclusion that I, from experience, and many private citizens, from sound intuition, reached on hearing this story.
It is difficult for most journalists to accept that the public profoundly questions the propriety of their main endeavors - the workings of an inevitable, slow machine of destruction that moves clumsily across the reputations of America's public figures and institutional leaders. This is no more in the culture of the reporter than a daily routine, an obvious, explicit and (journalists assume) widely accepted raison d'etre. Normal people know that no one can withstand the kind of scrutiny the media routinely direct at those unfortunate enough to fall under its gaze.
This is a discussion, from the media's point of view, best kept under wraps. In the reporting of Boorda's sad and unnecessary death, there have been several notable features. First, none of the print accounts I read Friday named Thomas (a nice courtesy) or touched on the volatile issue the Newsweek spokeswoman in a burst of candor put so bluntly to NPR.
Second, I was intrigued to see and hear the repeated use of the verb ``obtained'' in reference to how the information about Boorda's supposedly illegitimate decorations came into the hands of Newsweek, ABC News and the original organization looking into this matter, the National Security News Service. The pins in question (absurdly blown up and highlighted in the news photos) are tiny Vs for valor in combat, and are sold for less than a dollar at military supply stores. It is wrong to assume that some enterprising reporter on his or her own initiative detected a ``problem'' with Boorda's decorations and began to investigate. This is the kind of obscure but highly embarrassing (and thoroughly petty) information that daily is handed to reporters whom a ``source'' wishes to employ to damage an institutional enemy. Far from being enterprising, reporters in such cases respond like well-trained dogs, jumping and biting on command.
Of course, why Boorda was wearing these pins when he had not earned them will remain a mystery. It is possible to make a few fundamental conjectures on the issue, however. For someone of the admiral's four-star rank knowingly to embellish his decorations would mean he was driven by a few deep-seated (although likely harmless) insecurities.
Such an embellishment was a flaw in a career of vastly more important achievements. In that it signified a desire for admiration and for recognition of legitimacy and power, it is the same flaw the media are dedicated to exposing among leaders. Boorda, unfortunately, lived in a society that has deep confusion about the very notions of leadership and authority. From Tailhook to the Naval Academy scandals, Boorda was no innocent about the media.
When the media machine, huge and reasonless, began lumbering toward him, toward his personal choices and his life, he knew what to expect.
It would be a shame if the journalists covering the story didn't make use of the occasion to examine their practices a bit more probingly than they have shown themselves willing to do so far.
Vince Passaro, a free-lance writer and spokesman for Adelphi University, wrote this for Newsday.
- L.A. Times-Washington Post News Service
LENGTH: Medium: 86 linesby CNB