Ken Silverstein, who writes the Washington Babylon blog at Harper’s magazine, has run a blistering series of columns exposing how Bob Woodward and David Broder of the Washington Post “buckracked” huge fees for speaking before groups:

So to summarize: Broder and Woodward have both given speeches to big corporate trade groups–some with major lobbying interests–often as part of events held at spas and resorts. Broder even headlined a political fundraiser for a group of realtors. Woodward appears to give the bulk of his speaking fees to his personal foundation, but that “charity” gives away a tiny fraction of its assets–skirting IRS regulations–and much of the money goes to one of the most elite private schools in Washington, which Woodward’s own kids attended. Neither Woodward nor Broder replied to requests for comment, an odd strategy for journalists.

You want to read a courageous journalist? Read Ken Silverstein. (Full disclosure: Ken is a friend.) He is taking on one the heroes of our profession — Bob Woodward — and holding him up to the lens for close inspection. And that is of course what Woodward has done throughout his career. But what Ken points out is that career has turned Woodward, the ultimate outside, into an insider.

You’re corrupted if you take money from corporate groups, but not if you give the money to charity? Even if it’s your own personal charity, and you get a tax break, and most of the contributions go to elite causes of direct interest to the donor? This looks to be the same sort of double-dealing and hypocrisy that Bob Woodward–at least the old Bob Woodward–would have been all over as a reporter, if a political figure were involved.

Media criticism is an area where many journalists fear to tread. I do it myself on a smaller scale in San Diego, where I write a column of media criticism for the Voice of San Diego, but I do so with some trepidation. I’m never really sure what the consequences will be to my career. But I’m just playing in the sand while Ken swims in the ocean.

Best of all was [Washington Post Congressional reporter] reporter Jonathan Weisman, who during an online chat was asked: “Harper’s is reporting that your colleagues David Broder and Bob Woodward earn five figure honoraria for speaking before business groups. When are you gonna start getting some of that action?”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing!” replied Weisman. “I gotta get me an agent!”

Yeah, and while you’re at it, you get a moral core and a sense of professional ethics, too.

That’s just blistering criticism. And it’s long overdue.

Buckracking is widely (and justifiably) condemned by some of many journalists, including the “high priest” himself, David Broder. But it’s difficult to cover a profession when you have the same paymasters:

Perform a Google search and you’ll find that Jeff Birnbaum, the Post’s lobbying reporter, has spoken to a number of groups, including ones that lobby.

How have things gotten so bad? Easy: Nobody has done what Ken is doing.

It’s not easy to take on your own profession, but if journalism isn’t covered with the same intensity and focus that journalists cover everyone else, there won’t be much of a profession worth having.

The NY Times has a big story today about the CIA’s interrogation of Abu Zubaydah. Reporter Scott Shane seems to take whatever his intelligence sources tell him at face value and CIA interrogator Duece Martinez comes out looking like the hero who broke the al-Qaida terrorist mastermind:

In the Hollywood cliché of Fox’s “24,” a torturer shouts questions at a bound terrorist while inflicting excruciating pain. The C.I.A. program worked differently. A paramilitary team put on the pressure, using cold temperatures, sleeplessness, pain and fear to force a prisoner to talk. When the prisoner signaled assent, the tormenters stepped aside. After a break that could be a day or even longer, Mr. Martinez or another interrogator took up the questioning.

More…

If officers believed the prisoner was holding out, paramilitary officers who had undergone a crash course in the new techniques, but who generally knew little about Al Qaeda, would move in to manhandle the prisoner. Aware that they were on tenuous legal ground, agency officials at headquarters insisted on approving each new step — a night without sleep, a session of waterboarding, even a “belly slap” — in an exchange of encrypted messages. A doctor or medic was always on hand.

Sounds pretty harmless, right? Then why did the CIA destroy its videotape of Abu Zubaydah’s interrogation? And why no mention of this in the Times story?And why no mention either of what Abu Zubaydah said during a 2007 Gitmo hearing about his “torture:”

Q. In your previous statement, you mentioned specific treatments. Can you describe a little bit more about what those treatments were?A. REDACTEDQ. I understandA. And they not give me a chance all this REDACTEDQ. So I understand, you said things during this treatment you said things to make them stop and then those statements were actually untrue, is that correct?A. Yes

And what about Ron Suskind’s claims in the One Percent Doctrine that Abu Zubaydah was mentally unstable?

Ultimately, we tortured an insane man and ran screaming at every word he uttered.

The Washington Post has written about a debate between the FBI and the CIA over Abu Zubaydah’s value.The Times ran an editor’s note explaining its decision to name Zubaydah’s CIA interrogator (although I wonder whether Deuce is his real name), but the bigger issue is whether Shane and the NY Times are carrying the agency’s water here.Martinez is already being hailed as “the hero you’ve never heard of.”The NY Times did the agency a great service by blurring the program’s harsh edges. Is Shane serving the CIA or his readers?

After years of disclosures by government investigations, media accounts, and reports from human rights organizations, there is no longer any doubt as to whether the current administration has committed war crimes.Gioca il casino online in linea nel partypoker contro la gente reale tutto l’intorno dal pianeta e vinca i soldi reali!

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Full text

President Bush has said he will try to “forgive” his former Press Secretary Scott McClellan for writing What Happened. A better course of action would be for the president to read it.

According to McClellan, the Bush administration, instead of getting down to the business of governing, got caught up in playing the Washington game of the “permanent campaign.” Every major policy — including war — became a product that needed to be sold to the American people. Instead of candor, the secrecy-obsessed White House marshaled facts to suit its goals.

It was the campaign to sell Iraq war that destroyed McClellan’s credibilty as press secretary. He made the mistake of relaying assurances from Scooter Libby and Karl Rove that they nothing to do with the illegal leak of CIA agent Valerie Plame’s identity. In the case of Libby, McClellan was asked to lie by none other than Vice President Cheney.

Bitter though he may be, McClellan still likes and admires President Bush. The same can’t be said for Secretary of State Condi Rice, who emerges in the pages of What Happened as Bush’s toady. In McClellan’s view, Rice avoids accountability for her ruinous stint as national security adviser through her servility to the president and talent for public relations. Having the ear of the king is the path to power in the Bush White House.

The overall tone the book strikes, however, is one not of partisan rancor, but of sadness. The Bush White House is an opportunity lost, a time of short-sighted leadership where the best intentions are sacrified for short-term gains. It may be an old Washington story but through the eyes of this 30-year-old ex-press secretary, it’s a revealing one.

What Happened suffers from a fatal flaw, however. McClellan’s perspective was extremely limited. He was simply the mouthpiece. If this is the press secretary’s experience. I can’t wait to hear what the strategists really said and did.

Shortly after we are introduced to Maurice Conchis, the magician behind The Magus, he declares the novel dead as an art form. But then author John Fowles then proceeds to show just how lively a book can be. The writing borders on pretension. Fowles uses words that couldn’t be found in my dictionary, but I found the narrative irresistible. I felt in league with narrator Nicholas Urfe — we both knew we were being toyed with and we sought an explanation that wasn’t forthcoming, but the drama Conchis and Fowles created for us were so delicious that we want it to go on forever. And that I suppose is the point.