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In the Line of Duty
The senseless murder of Daniel Pearl, if nothing else, serves to remind us of another group of September 11 heroes.

Sharon O'Malley, a freelance journalist, teaches communications courses at UMUC.

By Chip Cassano

When word finally emerged from Pakistan that Daniel Pearl, an investigative journalist for the Wall Street Journal, had been brutally murdered by his kidnappers, America and the world responded with shock and outrage.

The New York Times called it a "pointless, wanton murder"; the Chicago Tribune blamed it on an attempt to make "some sort of sick, perverted political statement."

What few mentioned, though, was that while the grisly and clearly premeditated nature of the killing shocked us, Pearl's death was hardly a rare occurrence. One journalist was killed in the collapse of the Twin Towers on September 11, and already nine others have died in the aftermath—covering the War on Terrorism or, as in Pearl's case, investigating related stories. Worldwide, according to statistics compiled by the Committee to Protect Journalists, 37 journalists died in 2001 and another 118 were imprisoned. All told, more than 600 came under some sort of attack last year—from harassment and threats to beatings, arrests, and incarceration.

"Obviously [Pearl's death] is not a one-time thing," said Sharon O'Malley, a freelance journalist and former Prince George's Journal reporter who teaches communications and journalism courses for UMUC. "Neither do I think it is a heightened trend. Any time that there is a war and American journalists go to other countries to cover it, there's a heightened risk."

That risk isn't limited to being struck by a stray bullet or kidnapped as a political pawn. Often, O'Malley said, journalists are targeted simply because they are doing their jobs. In the case of Daniel Pearl—who was investigating possible connections between Richard Reid, the so-called "shoe bomber," and the al Qaeda—credible sources have hinted that he may have learned too much about ties between radical Islamic elements and Pakistan's Inter-Service Intelligence agency.

While media outlets take steps to protect their working journalists, O'Malley said (the BBC, for instance, requires reporters bound for war zones to take a "hostile environment course" and encourages them to wear a flak jacket at all times) options are limited, and the amount of protection offered is typically modest. And still journalists jump at the chance to cover even the most dangerous stories.

"I think that, for most journalists, the thought of covering a war makes their mouths water," O'Malley said. "There's nothing more exciting than breaking news . . . and it's an important job—something I try to impress on my students. There's so much news happening in the world, and it's the journalist's job to decide what the public gets to know. That's an awesome responsibility."

Reporter Terry Anderson was kidnapped in 1985.

Terry Anderson is one who knows more than most the risks that that responsibility entails. As an Associated Press reporter in 1985, he was kidnapped in Lebanon and held hostage for seven years.

"[Journalists] believe that if they can just make you pay attention, your horror and anger will match theirs, and you will demand that [atrocities] stop," he wrote to the Los Angeles Times in a tribute to Daniel Pearl. "And sometimes, they are right.

"Sometimes, often enough, wrongs are righted, wars are stopped, oppressive governments are toppled because the world did pay attention. Often enough that despite the cruel and evil death experienced by Pearl, despite the deaths of other journalists, and the beatings and the jailings, his colleagues will continue to take risks to find and tell you the truth, or as much of it as they can manage.

"Danny's murder was pointless. His life was not."