When a presidential candidate violates universal and established norms, it’s okay to come out and say it. But the coverage of former president Donald Trump’s visit to Arlington National Cemetery, on August 26, showed the difficulties newsrooms have in covering unprecedented events, especially when it involves the nation’s military, veterans, and Donald Trump.
On Tuesday, NPR’s Quil Lawrence and Tom Bowman broke the news that Trump and members of his campaign appeared to violate federal law during an appearance at Arlington to mark the third anniversary of the deadly attack on US troops that punctuated the deeply flawed withdrawal from Afghanistan. Members of Trump’s staff had sought to film the event for a campaign video, and got into an altercation with an Arlington National Cemetery staff member who tried to stop them. Steven Cheung, a Trump campaign official, strongly denied that any altercation had taken place and said the campaign was ready to release a video to prove his point. (They have yet to release it.) It wasn’t surprising that these two NPR pros with deep knowledge of the military, and sources among veterans, were the first with the news. The Washington Post followed with a story the same day, as did the New York Times. The public took note.
As more publications followed suit, the Arlington stories suffered a dreadful fate: they all started to sound the same. News outlets ended up with articles bogged down in parsing federal law, carefully defining what exactly counts as an altercation, and quoting milquetoast official statements like “There was an incident and a report was filed.”
Lumped together, the reporting this week left readers and listeners, especially those with no knowledge of the military, at a loss to understand what actually happened—and, crucially, why it mattered so much. The Trump campaign team had successfully muddied the waters by alleging that the photographer had been invited to the event by family members of soldiers buried there.
But as any veteran knows in their bones, the solemnity of the ceremony is exactly why the unauthorized photographer had no business being there—regardless of who invited them. Section 60, the part of the cemetery where the incident occurred, is one of the most sacred places for this generation of troops. It is where those who were killed in Iraq and Afghanistan are buried. Those graves are visited not by tourists looking for historical figures, but by mothers and fathers visiting their fallen son or daughter. In Section 60, wounds are still raw. Political activity there is never appropriate, and under the law, only cemetery staffers and approved photographers are permitted to film or take pictures there.
Readers needed to know that, when you visit Arlington, you might not know exactly what you’re supposed to do when confronted by those rows of headstones, but you damn sure know what you’re not supposed to do. But the coverage this week left many readers with the impression that the whole thing might have been a bureaucratic mix-up, or some tedious violation of protocol. It focused on bland horse-race coverage so common during election season, rather than clearly stating what really took place: an egregious and willful violation of long-standing norms. What was missing from the coverage was a willingness to quickly and decisively state what a grievous insult the whole debacle was to the dignity of Arlington. The sacred had been profaned.
As I wrote recently for CJR, newsrooms have been losing reporters with military experience. Some editors believe that without American troops involved in major wars, there’s less need for journalists on staff who are veterans. But episodes like what took place this week at Arlington show how important it is to have reporters and editors who can cut through political noise and jargon to explain the true importance of an event involving the military.
For some reporters and editors, Arlington is a Metro stop on the way downtown. For reporters and editors steeped in the world of the military and veterans, Arlington is a place where they know people whose names are carved in marble.
There’s room in even the most staid news organizations to let deep truths stand boldly on the page. We owe it to those rows of headstones.
Ben Kesling is a writer who focuses on defense and veterans issues. He is a former Wall Street Journal reporter, where he covered the Pentagon, the Department of Veterans Affairs, and was a combat correspondent in Iraq. His book, Bravo Company, is about an Army unit's deployment to Afghanistan and their hard return home. He served as a U.S. Marine Corps infantry officer and deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan.