A global crackdown on leaks to journalists

Headline by headline, a trickle of news leaks on Iraq and the anti-terror campaign has grown into a steady stream of revelations, and from Pennsylvania Avenue to Downing Street, Copenhagen to Canberra, governments are responding with pressure and prosecutions. The latest target is the New York Times. But the unfolding story begins as far back as 2003, when British weapons expert David Kelly was "outed" as the source of a story casting doubt on his government's arguments for invading Iraq, and he committed suicide. And it will roll on this fall, when Danish journalists face trial for reporting their government knew there was no evidence of banned weapons in Iraq. In London's Central Criminal Court, too, accused leakers will be in the dock this fall, for allegedly disclosing Pres. Bush talked of bombing Aljazeera, the Arab television station. The British government threatens to prosecute newspapers that write any more about that leaked document. Media advocates are alarmed at what they see as a mounting assault on press freedom in country after country, arguing it is potentially chilling the pursuit of truth as US and European leaders pursue "wars on terror" and in Iraq. "It's grotesque that at a time when political rhetoric is full of notions of democracy and liberty that we should have this fundamental right of journalists to investigate and report on public interest matters called into question," says Aidan White, general-secretary of the Belgium-based International Federation of Journalists. Just as the stories cross borders, so do the crackdowns. Swiss investigators are looking for the leaker of an intelligence document attesting to the CIA prison network and are weighing criminal charges, under secrecy laws, against three journalists at the weekly SonntagsBlick who reported the story. In Britain, revelations and retributions have filled news columns and airwaves since the US-British invasion of Iraq in 2003, when the British Broadcasting Corp., citing an unidentified government source, said allegations of Iraqi weapons of mass destruction–now known to have been false–had been "sexed up." In July that year, bioweapons expert David Kelly informed superiors he was the BBC's source. He expected confidentiality, but his identity was disclosed and he was compelled to testify, under harsh questioning, before two parliamentary committees. Within days, Kelly killed himself. In 2004-05, at London's Daily Telegraph and then at the Times, correspondent Michael Smith reported on leaked memos from Prime Minister Tony Blair's government indicating the Bush administration was long committed to invading Iraq, and weapons intelligence was "fixed" around that aim. Smith says he has been investigated under Britain's Official Secrets Act, but neither he nor any leaker has been charged. For David Keogh, a former British Cabinet Office spokesman, and Leo O'Connor, an ex-Parliament aide, the outcome was different. Both are charged under the secrecy act in the alleged leaking of a classified memo about a Bush-Blair meeting in 2004 at which Blair was said to have argued against a Bush suggestion of bombing Aljazeera's headquarters in Qatar. Keogh and O'Connor face up to two years in prison if convicted this fall. After London's Daily Mirror reported on that memo last November, Britain's attorney general warned other editors they could face prosecution if they divulged any more of the leaked document. Even whistle-blowers who don't divulge state secrets can feel the heat–like Australia's Rod Barton. After the Canberra government dismissed what he privately reported about phony weapons "intelligence" and prisoner abuse in Iraq, the former Iraq weapons inspector went public last year with the information. Soon Barton's government contract work evaporated, he was "disinvited" from official functions, and former colleagues were ordered to shun him.