The incident was broadcast around the world: A Russian armoured vehicle on the streets of Kyiv “maliciously” crushing a car from which the driver “miraculously” emerged alive.
The tabloid descriptors went into overdrive, readily accepted by an audience already appalled by Putin’s invasion of Ukraine. It was a graphic illustration of the savagery of Russia’s unprovoked attack on its neighbour and a metaphor for the unequal battle being fought.
Then the Russian Embassy in Canada posted a screen grab of CBC News’ report of the incident but claimed it was a Ukrainian Armed Forces vehicle that had inflicted the damage “while hiding in civilian quarters in Kiev”. Both countries do, in fact, operate the Strela-10 short-range mobile anti-aircraft system.
This was followed by reports that it was a Ukrainian Strela-10 that had been seized by Russian soldiers who, dressed in Ukrainian uniforms, were carrying out a ‘false-flag’ sabotage mission.
Finally came an ‘analysis’ that, irrespective of the nationality, it was a tragic accident caused when the driver of the Strela-10 lost control on a corner of the road and went into a skid before hitting the oncoming car.
Such is the fog of war.
Journalists covering the invasion of Ukraine are facing the same challenges in arriving at the truth that have faced war correspondents since William Howard Russell gained fame covering the Charge of the Light Brigade in 1854. And there’s no small irony in the fact that The Times’ first war reporter was in Crimea, the territory that Putin annexed from Ukraine 160 years later.
Wars are made of heroes and villains. There are the victors, the vanquished and the victims. It has been that way since before the Ancient Greeks defended the pass at Thermopylae and Vercingetorix, the king of the Gauls, was paraded through the streets of Rome by Julius Caesar (before being garrotted).
Invariably, the history of conflict has been coloured by the allegiances of those who have chronicled it. The Greek historian Herodotus wasn’t exactly unbiased in his record of the Greco-Persian War and Caesar’s Commentaries on the Gallic War was pure propaganda.
It is difficult in the present conflict for any media outlet not controlled by Vladimir Putin to do anything other than side with the nation he has violated. In the overall scheme of things, that is an entirely justifiable stance.
And, given the alternative reality that is emanating from the Kremlin, it is little wonder many western nations, New Zealand included, have also stopped broadcasting Russia’s international news channels Russia Today (RT) and Sputnik. European Commission president Ursula von der Leyen accuses them of spreading “toxic and harmful information”.
Ukraine, like most theatres of war, is a place in which confusion reigns. The Prussian general Carl von Clausewitz said war is the realm of uncertainty and the invasion of Ukraine is full of it. It is being fought on multiple fronts by both regular and irregular forces. It began with a lie and the lying has continued unabated.
Journalists covering the conflict are unpersuaded by Putin’s propaganda, which has become ever more outlandish. Nor are they moved by obvious attempts to infiltrate social media.
Nonetheless, they are susceptible to factors that lead to erroneous reports. The Ukrainian government, and President Volodymyr Zelensky in particular, are generally taken at face value. Face to face interviews with Ukrainian soldiers and civilians are credited with greater accuracy than they might realistically be able to possess. Lines of communication with some frontline units have become fractured. And the search for heroes can lead journalists to rush to judgement, particularly when fuelled by visual ‘evidence’ on social media.
In past days we have seen examples where a combination of these factors has led to stories which were later called into question.
There was the crushed car story. As I write, we still do not know with any certainty whether a Russian Strela-10 was responsible. Unfortunately, the video that recorded the incident was too indistinct to reveal whether the armoured vehicle carried the Z painted on Russian vehicles to avoid friendly fire.
Early in the invasion President Zelensky announced that all 13 defenders on Snake Island in southern Ukraine had been killed – and would be posthumously honoured – after telling the commander of a Russian naval force to “Go **** yourself” following a surrender demand. On Sunday there were reports from the State Border Force that its members may still be alive. Yesterday, Russia claimed the men had surrendered and posted on social media a photograph purporting to show them alive. Verification is in short supply.
Then there is the Ghost of Kyiv, a Ukrainian MIG-29 pilot credited with shooting down 10 Russian aircraft, six of them in the first 30 hours of fighting. At the weekend the Ukraine Government’s Twitter account stated that, although his identity was unknown, the ace was “having Russians for breakfast”. Multiple videos purporting to show the fighter pilot were posted on social media and shared by government sources. However, Reuters fact-checking found part of the footage that sparked the story came from the 2008 video game Digital Combat Simulator. As the Daily Mail somewhat overstated it: “There is now a substantial lack of evidence to support claims the ‘Ghost of Kyiv is real.”
The fog also extends to the state of fighting. Yesterday, the mayor of Kyiv, Vitali Klischko, said the city was surrounded and there was no way to evacuate civilians: “We can’t do that because all ways are blocked. Right now we are encircled.” An hour later, he said the city was not surrounded and misinformation was being spread about the position of Russian soldiers.
That is entirely possible.
Across the Internet there has been a rapid increase in suspect social media accounts posting anti-Ukraine content. Associated Press has reported on what it calls a “chaotic information environment” that has led to confusing and often contradictory reports about the war. The US State Department claims Russia is publicising false reports about widespread surrender of Ukrainian troops. A ‘cyber war’ is taking place on Tik Tok, where anti-war messages have competed with disinformation about Ukraine and the progress of the war. For example, video of a Russian paratrooper jumping into the battle was viewed more than five million times on Tik Tok before fact-checking revealed it was, in fact, filmed in 2016.
Orysia Khimiak, a tech expert working for the Ukrainian Ministry of Foreign Affairs told Bloomberg that the online disinformation onslaught was “the fog of war, but at high speed”.
The task is daunting for the scores of journalists trying to cover the invasion on the ground. CNN’s chief media correspondent, Brian Stelter, said on the network yesterday it was becoming more difficult to know what is happening in communities even 20 miles outside Kyiv. David French, a senior editor at online magazine The Dispatch and a veteran of Iraq War coverage, told CNN: “I have a general rule, the more specific and dramatic the information, the more suspicion you should apply. Right now, the more reliable reports are going to be the more high level, more vague reports.”
That is good advice for audiences trying to keep abreast of developments in the beleaguered state, even if it means the picture remains shrouded in mist.
Swallows and summer
One swallow does not a summer make. That’s true.
Nonetheless, the financial results reported by NZME and TVNZ last week were welcome news. After their revenue was beaten down by the first year of the pandemic, both have shown good signs of recovery.
NZME’s total revenue for 2021 was $372 million, a massive improvement on the $335 million it earned in 2020. Its net operating profit was up six per cent to $23.6 million and its balance sheet now has zero debt.
TVNZ’s interim net profit for the six months to December 2021 was down $18.7 million to $15.2 million – due almost entirely to sharp rises in its programme costs – but the good news has that its revenue is up. At $183.7 million, it is more than $4.5 million up on 2019 interim revenue and almost $8 million above 2020.
Of course, the problems facing their legacy businesses remain.
In 2019 NZME’s revenue from print advertising was $101 million and last year that had dropped to $78 million. Circulation revenue also dropped by $6 million over that period.
TVNZ faces challenges from digital streaming services and needs to increase its revenue from digital sources, which currently stands at only 16 to 17 per cent of total revenue.
Just for a moment or two, however, they can watch that swallow fly.
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