In following the recent events in Iran, I’ve been amazed at the depth, nuance, and sense of immediacy Twitter has lent to the proceedings. Reading tweets from thousands of miles away, I can’t help but feel a sense of being there, on the ground, experiencing the excitement, the terror, the bravery and the confusion in real time.
In a world where everything is covered, where canned statements are issued ad nauseum, where pundits pontificate endlessly, there’s something disconcerting yet refreshing about not really knowing what’s going on. We don’t have Brian Williams or Anderson Cooper or (god forbid) Geraldo Rivera reporting live. Instead we’re getting this rough, confused, ecstatic, frenzied, scattered reporting straight from the protesters. This unedited, unabridged data flow is something new, even in this world of mass, instant communication. In many ways, it’s very similar to actually being there, in the crowd.
This realization got me thinking about the very real, on-the-ground confusion that’s so often ignored in history. When we read the accounts of battles, or protests, or disease, or any other calamitous event, it’s typically from this bird’s eye, 20/20 hindsight perspective. But the on-the-ground reality, as we’re seeing in Iran right now, is so much messier, so much more confused. Carl von Clausewitz called this confusion, this lack of information, the “fog of war”. While a very apt description, I do think it’s important to keep in mind that this fog extends beyond the battlefield, especially when we’re talking about an age where information could only travel as fast as a guy on a horse (or in a boat).
As I start thinking about how to structure and approach the Belisarius novel, I keep coming back to this sense of confusion. Information flow, or lack thereof, plays a critical role in pretty much every aspect of Belisarius’ career. And while it’s something I’ve always planned to bake into the story, it’s taken a new media revolution in a far-flung Middle Eastern country to really bring it home.