There are very few secrets in the world of new media
The release of more than 75,000 se- cret U.S. military documents on an international Web site shows how much the world is changing, and yet how much it has stayed the same.
What hasn’t changed much is the practice of government to classify as secret far more than is necessary — during times of war and peace. And it is still true that the more government tries to keep things secret, the more someone — especially someone opposed to whatever it is government is doing — will try to tear down the walls of secrecy. The most obvious comparison being draw is between release of the Pentagon Papers during the Vietnam War, and the WikiLeaks posting of the Afghanistan documents.
But what has changed dramatically is the speed with which documents can be disseminated and the sheer volume of what can be distributed via the internet. Even more dramatic, however, is the emerging ethos of the Internet, that any information that could possibly be made available should be made available.
While there may be no cultural restraints on the distribution of information, there are obviously legal restraints. The White House has implored the Web site WikiLeaks to stop posting secret Afghanistan war documents, even as the Pentagon pressed its investigation of the leaks. One soldier charged with handing over classified video is being brought back to the U.S. for trial.
White House spokesman Robert Gibbs’ suggestion that posting the war logs puts the lives of Afghan informants and U.S. military personnel at risk cannot be ignored.
Changing dynamics
Since World War II, the relationship between the American media and the military has been in almost constant evolution. During the war, correspondents were often in uniform, their dispatches went through military censors and while there may have been some right-to-know skirmishes, the legitimacy of the practice was accepted.
One of the seminal moments in post-war relations between the press, the government and the military came early in the administration of President John F. Kennedy. The New York Times learned about the planned Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba. Kennedy prevailed upon the newspaper to kill the story, which it did. After the invasion turned out to be a disaster, a popular debate in the press revolved around the idea that the Times would have done Kennedy and the nation, not to mention those who died or were captured in the invasion, a favor had it run with the story.
During and after the Vietnam War, the government’s and the military’s relationship with the press suffered as it became clear that the more the press reported out of Southeast Asia, the less the American public supported continuation of the war.
Today, however, it is not the traditional press — most of which reached an arguably too-cozy truce with the government and military during Desert Storm and the Iraq and Afghanistan wars — that represents the greatest threat to government secrecy. It is an Internet that is unfiltered by publishers and editors and unrestrained by many of the economic realities of traditional journalism. Where this new information age will lead is anyone’s guess, but we’re all starting to find out.
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