Quoting Masayuki Takayama’s essay “War Correspondent,” this article examines the principle that war reporting must present facts without political distortion, drawing on his experiences during the Iran–Iraq War and his criticism of ideologically driven reporting on the Battle of Okinawa.

August 6, 2020
The following is from an essay by Masayuki Takayama titled “War Correspondent,” published in the issue of Shukan Shincho released today.
This essay, too, proves that he is a journalist without equal in the postwar world.
[Quotation]
In the midst of the Iran–Iraq War, I was posted to Tehran as a correspondent.
At that time, Iraqi aircraft flew over Tehran every night and dropped bombs, while during the day Islamic fanatics found irreligious young people and flogged them.
Madness ruled both day and night, but the correspondents of the various newspapers could not write about it.
The reason was that Iran’s Ministry of Information had a Korean formerly resident in Japan censor the newspapers, and whenever he found an article that the authorities disliked, the correspondent concerned was either reprimanded or expelled.
Fortunately, as it happened, I discovered that our newspaper, the Sankei Shimbun, was not included among those subject to censorship.
I was therefore able to write freely about whatever I wished.
In Ayatollah Khomeini’s world, people were not permitted to see the face or body of anyone of the opposite sex other than their spouse.
Female doctors were therefore required to examine male patients through a mirror.
The Ayatollah regarded a girl’s first menstruation as proof that she had become an adult.
I consequently wrote an article about the wedding of a ten-year-old bride.
I also wrote about an Iranian official who took his twelve-year-old wife to Britain and was prosecuted by London’s Metropolitan Police for the rape of a child.
The Ayatollah’s teachings included the instruction, “Wipe your backside twice with conveniently sized round stones.”
It was a rule of conduct for travelling through the desert, and I quoted it on some occasion.
I was immediately summoned before a religious court and, after questioning, had my press credentials confiscated.
At best, I faced expulsion from the country.
At worst, I faced imprisonment.
I was ordered to remain in my residence until a decision had been reached.
I wondered why this had happened, since my newspaper was supposedly not being censored.
I was then told that a report had arrived from the Iranian Embassy in Tokyo and that there were other alleged offences as well.
The final punishment would be decided after those matters had been examined.
It appeared that malicious reporting disguised as factual reporting was something Allah particularly detested.
This occurred in December 1986.
With nothing to do while waiting for the decision, I went to the ski resort at Dizin.
An official from the Ministry of Information then ordered me to return to Tehran and go to the front line to cover the major offensive against Basra.
I had already been to the battlefield five times.
Each time, I had been exposed to crossfire, and it was terrifying.
I said that I did not want to go and that I no longer had press credentials.
The official shouted that I had no right to refuse.
Why had I been forgiven?
Apparently, my five previous battlefield reports had been highly regarded.
Iran’s Kayhan newspaper and a newspaper in Kuwait had also reprinted them.
This time, I was told, the disadvantaged Iranian forces were planning a decisive operation to recapture the Dariyeh–Chiemahi Fortress, an Iraqi forward base, cross the Shatt al-Arab River and seize Basra in Iraqi territory.
They therefore told me, “We have suspended the decision on your punishment.
Write a good report.”
The operation began at the end of the year.
The assault on the fortress proceeded smoothly, but the attempt to cross the river failed.
Once again, it ended with the terrifying experience of being subjected to smoke, shells and gunfire on the riverbank.
War reports attract readers.
The important thing is to describe events realistically without carelessly imposing political colouring upon them.
On that occasion, too, I reported both the achievements of the Iranian forces and the ferocity of the Iraqi counterattack, and I added the analyses of military attachés from several countries.
As a result, even my grave offence of having made a fool of Ayatollah Khomeini was forgiven, and I escaped imprisonment.
Seen in that light, what are we to make of Asahi Shimbun reporter Shohei Okada’s retrospective account of the Battle of Okinawa?
The Battle of Okinawa ended on June 23 of the final year of the war with the fall of Mabuni.
After that, only defeated Japanese soldiers remained in the mountainous areas of the north.
Okada writes that those Japanese soldiers “cut off the heads” of villagers and “chased them down and stabbed them to death.”
His style is virtually identical to the writings of Shoji Sakakibara, a former editor on the Asahi Shimbun’s city news desk, who portrayed the Japanese military as the enemy of the Okinawan people.
The number of civilian victims in Okinawa reached 100,000, but only several hundred deaths, including those associated with the Himeyuri Student Corps, involved the Japanese military.
The remaining 99 percent were all killed in indiscriminate slaughter by the United States military.
In Shimajiri, more than half of the villagers were killed.
In Kuniyoshi, every male, including children, was taken away by the United States military and shot.
Women were not spared either, and more than 10,000 were raped by American soldiers.
In Ginowan, testimony remains that “the air turned yellow,” indicating that the United States military killed villagers with mustard gas.
The remaining chemical agents were later discovered at Kadena.
The United States military had also brought the same poison gas to the European theatre, and when it leaked at the Italian port of Bari, eighty-three American soldiers died.
Okada, however, disregards these facts and devotes himself to political propaganda asserting that the Japanese military was evil.
He is the type of reporter most detested by both Allah and the Japanese people.
I have a feeling that he will surely end up in prison someday.