How to Cover a Hijacking: What They Didn't Teach Me in J-School

A Shiite Kuwaiti legislator's participation in a gathering eulogizing Imad Mughnieh, the recently assassinated Lebanese Hezbollah security chief accused of countless attacks against Arab (notably Kuwaiti) and Western targets, jogged this writer's memory about a hijacking attributed to Mughnieh.

Kuwaiti Shiites were lambasted this week in their media and across the emirate for their insensitivity to crimes leading to the deaths of their compatriots at the hands of an elusive man who is also credited with blowing up the U.S. embassy and U.S. Marine barracks and murdering the CIA station chief in Lebanon in the 1980s, as well as a slew of other operations, including another Kuwaiti hijacking.

A mixed bag of accounts of his death, the cloak-and-dagger fashion in which Mughnieh was hunted and blown up in Damascus, the reports in regional media sympathetic to Hezbollah, an exclusive interview with his mother on what a dedicated and religious son he was, brought it all back.

The landing of a Kuwait Airways 747 in Larnaca in April 1988 seems a distant event to most, but the 16-day ordeal- - five of them in Cyprus -- that resulted in two deaths and immeasurable trauma for those on board is quite vivid to this ex-reporter.

Since then the Middle East has been rocked by endless flare-ups, battles and deaths.

But the hijacking of KU22, also known as "Al Jaberiya," was particularly gripping for this former Washingtonian who, until moving to Cyprus as a foreign correspondent, had for almost 15 years been subjected to a steady diet of bureaucrat-ese, obfuscation, leaks and media manipulation by officials.

Kuwait Airways "Al Jaberiya" at Larnaca airport, April 1988

(Photo-Magda Abu-Fadil)

It brought home the human dimension, the sense of urgency and a roller coaster of emotions that kept the adrenaline pumping at a supersonic rate. It was exciting and tragic.

Perhaps most striking was the picnic atmosphere that prevailed through much of the jet's stay at Larnaca. The plane on a fight from Thailand to Kuwait had been commandeered over the southern Arabian Gulf and forced to land at Iran's Mashhad airport, where it apparently took on a load of extra hijackers, weapons and ammunition.

Attempts to land the jumbo in Beirut and Damascus were repulsed by the local authorities and the flight was finally forced down in Cyprus several days later.

When I drove out to Larnaca from Nicosia where I was based as Middle East correspondent and editor for the English service of Agence France-Presse, it was almost the end of a four-day weekend marking the Easter holiday, the country's most important religious event.

Hundreds of West European and other sun-loving tourists continued to flock into Cyprus in search of relaxation and merriment.

They were oblivious to the tension on the airport's tarmac where the hijackers were holding over 50 passengers inside the jetliner and were kept in the dark by hotel employees where they stayed, so as not to affect the tourist industry.

Tourist and airline offices at the airport also tried to maintain an even keel handling countless regular and chartered flights, bringing vacationers to the eastern Mediterranean island.

That week, the weekly Iran Air flight was diverted to Paphos airport, to avert any more tension on the ground at Larnaca.

A circus-like atmosphere reigned as reporters, photographers, cameramen, producers and every media animal known to man or woman literally took over the main terminal's second floor and roof to monitor events.

One reporter for a competing news agency proudly stated that she'd covered every major hijacking the previous 10 years and that such events were a turn-on.

The journalists, representing major and minor news organizations, needed instant reliable communications and quickly set up command centers in hallways and took over administrative offices in every corner not occupied by airport employees whom they quickly outnumbered.

Correspondents complained of the charges levied by the displaced office workers, some of who demanded $300/day just to use their desks and phones, not counting the actual calls. Back then it was a little fortune for financially-strapped news organizations.

The ordinarily sedate Cypriots were faced with a veritable Tower of Babel from Arab journalists pegging the hijacking to the regional story to cowboy reporters out to make tomorrow's headline before moving on to the next hot spot.

Nerves frayed as one major U.S. television network reporter tried to bypass a Cypriot tour official's phone system by installing his own in the latter's office to avoid exorbitant rates to New York.

The TV correspondent was rewarded by having his wires ripped out of the wall.

The reporters were drawn to the event like moths and mosquitoes to the floodlights that ringed Larnaca airport. A phalanx of photographers and cameramen were perched atop the terminal building with super-long lenses trained to capture every detail from the white and blue jet parked to the terminal's left.

The airport cafeteria and take-out stand did a brisk business in mineral water, coffee, beer, soft drinks, sandwiches and junk food. Reporters littered the hallways and stairs with candy wrappers.

With space at a premium, journalists elbowed each other to secure every inch of desk or floor available. The proximity also created inevitable eavesdropping problems.

But camaraderie and a need to share information counterbalanced the deadly competition for news and scoops. Correspondents for wealthier organizations charitably allowed others lacking the same resources to listen in on their UHF radios, which monitored conversations between the airport control tower and the hijackers.

I was, however, reprimanded once by one radio's owner for running an item before his agency. The early bird...

Much of the communication between the hijackers and Cypriot officials mediating an end to the ordeal was routed through the tower.

The glass-like cocoon looked eerily quiet at night as air traffic controllers carefully choreographed landings and departures in semi-darkness, surrounded by blinking dots and electronic gadgetry.

There were also pitfalls that could have tarnished our credibility in our eagerness to be first with the news. One agency got carried away when its reporters scurried to their laptop computers and mobile phones at the sound of an explosion.

Alarms were set, bells (to denote urgent news) rang and that agency's story made headlines in papers around the world the following day.

With fewer human resources my news agency's team double- and triple-checked to make sure the aircraft hadn't been stormed by special anti-terrorist troops deployed all over the airport.

The suspense was nerve-wracking and the seconds felt like years. Lives were at stake and the world was watching and hanging on our (reporters') every word.

We were gratified when my team's conservative approach for not running with unsubstantiated "urgent" news proved the wiser choice, since it turned out to be a backfiring engine. The aircraft stood intact for all to see.

It is often hard to maintain a balance between instinct and news judgment.

But the deaths of two Kuwaiti passengers, murdered by the hijackers and unceremoniously dumped on the tarmac, were gruesome and the countdown before the air pirates let go of some passengers and then took off for Algiers, their final destination, was marked by hours of high-wire maneuvers.

My colleagues and I were relaying the play-by-play of events on an open airport phone line -- dictating every detail for the last five hours of the ordeal -- our only means of communication at the time, unlike more well endowed agencies with their portable phones.

We didn't stop until the plane was out of sight, at almost 3:00 a.m. We were so hyper after that we headed for the nearest open bar for a stiff one.

Our bureau chief balked at the phone bill we later presented for that very long, long-distance call. But how does one factor such costs into an annual budget or even plan for such events?

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What to take to a hijacking (or siege) assignment in 1988:

1. Comfortable clothes and shoes, with adequate changes of underwear. A sweater for cool nights, topcoat and umbrella for rain and a hat for the sun.

2. As much non-perishable food and drink as you can carry. Mint drops and gum are survival items.

3. Lots of reading materials for those long hours of just waiting for something to happen.

4. Lots of pads and pens (for note taking), extra batteries for recorders, cameras and flashlights if you're doubling as a photographer, and a portable radio and/or TV to monitor the news. A small CD player is also acceptable for music fanatics.

5. Medication for potential headaches, heartburn, indigestion, allergies or other disruptive ailments.

6. Cash, credit cards and a checkbook to cover expenses incurred along the way and a firm commitment your employer will cover them.

7. An open mind, compassion, a desire to convey the facts in an unbiased fashion, a competitive spirit, a healthy body with endless stamina and a sense of humor.