PERISCOPE

THE MEDIA

Mission: Impossible

Foreign journalists have joined U.S. troops, Arab truckdrivers, Iraqi National Guardsmen and European aid workers as attractive prey. In August, jihadists captured and killed an Italian reporter, and two French journalists were kidnapped days later; their whereabouts remain unknown. Last week CNN aired live footage of a rocket attack on a Baghdad hotel where Fox News and The Washington Post have offices. "It is absolutely the worst war I've ever covered," says John Kifner, a New York Times reporter who worked in Lebanon during that country's civil war in the late 1970s and '80s.

Though more than 6,000 journalists are registered with the U.S. military's press office in Baghdad's heavily fortified Green Zone, several European networks have withdrawn from Iraq. Some U.S. networks and publications are having problems finding reporters willing to work in Iraq, and two leading newspapers now assign armed guards to escort correspondents in the field. "We can live with occasional mortars and bullets, but kidnapping is different," says CNN senior international correspondent Walter Rodgers. (NEWSWEEK pulled its American staff on a temporary basis last month but is keeping its Baghdad bureau open.) Small wonder: the influential Sunni Scholars Association recently suggested that some Western journalists may be spies for supposedly giving short shrift in copy to anti-U.S. insurgents.

What effect has the chaos had on reporting? The foreign press corps is in no position to investigate claims by the U.S. military or the insurgents about civilian massacres and precision bombings outside the capital. That's what most worries Iraq experts. "It enables Washington, London and [Iraqi Prime Minister Ayad] Allawi to produce a picture of Iraq which is fantasy, but, ironically, we can't refute that because it's so dangerous," says Patrick Cockburn, a London-based correspondent for The Independent.

Scandals: More Headaches for the United Nations

Revelations by American WMD sleuth Charles Duelfer about corruption in the Oil-for-Food Program in Iraq, run by the United Nations, could further complicate Bush administration foreign policy. Iraqi documents appended to the voluminous report Duelfer published last week identify politically connected figures in Russia, France, Indonesia and even the Vatican as alleged recipients of lucrative oil deals that were personally approved by Saddam Hussein. Duelfer's report documents in detail how Benon Sevan, the top U.N. official who supervised the Oil-for-Food Program, purportedly got deals for 7.2 million barrels of Iraqi oil, for which he allegedly collected profits of at least $1 million through offshore companies. Still on the U.N. payroll with diplomatic immunity, Sevan has denied any corruption.

The finger-pointing won't likely stop there. One focus of U.S. criminal investigators is Kojo Annan, the son of U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan who once worked for a Swiss company hired by the United Nations to inspect Oil-for-Food shipments. Kojo Annan left the Swiss company before it was retained by the United Nations, but U.N. sources acknowledge that he was paid a "noncompete" fee by the company after it began work on the U.N. program--a fact neither the company nor Annan Junior disclosed to the United Nations at the time. Kojo Annan could not be reached for comment, but U.N. sources predicted that any U.S. criminal charges against Kojo would likely further sour U.S. relations with top U.N. leaders.

PAKISTAN

All the King's Men

. Much attention has been focused on Pakistan President Pervez Musharraf's decision not to give up his role as head of the military at the end of the year, as he had once promised. But the more far-reaching decisions may be ones he's taken behind the scenes. Early this month Musharraf launched his most sweeping restructuring of the Pakistani Army since he overhauled the high command immediately after September 11. By doing so, he has strengthened his grip on the military, while also making a break with the past. Today in Pakistan, there remain no active-duty senior officers who were closely connected to the country's past support for the Taliban, its attack on Indian-occupied Kashmir in 1999 and the policy of using armed Pakistani militant groups to support the country's foreign-policy aims.

Military officials downplay Musharraf's reshuffle as "routine." Perhaps, but its outcome is anything but. The president's newly appointed top deputies, Gen. Ahsan Saleem Hayat and Gen. Ehsanul Haq, are key Musharraf proteges, , having risen to prominence in the post-9/11 era thanks to the results they've produced in tracking down Qaeda members in Pakistan. As a result of their promotions and those of a dozen other senior generals--who all owe their new positions and careers to the president--Musharraf has absolute control over the military. "[Musharraf] is mentor to the new commanders," says Rifaat Hussain, a noted Pakistani defense analyst. "They are beholden to and will be loyal to [him]." (The lower ranks could still pose a threat, as more than a dozen enlisted men have been arrested for links to Al Qaeda and the two assassination attempts against Musharraf.)

Such allegiance should allow Musharraf a freer hand in talks with India and ease minds in Western capitals, where Musharraf allies have worried about the stability of his rule. They should fear no more.

Slums: Private Optimism

More than 900 million people worldwide live in slums. The United Nations predicts that number could top 2 billion by 2030. Worse still, the United Nations now admits it will never reach its Millennium Development Goal (providing 100 million slum dwellers with adequate housing and services by 2020) by relying on international aid alone.

The solution could be to rely more heavily on the private sector. A new plan called KENSUP (Kenya Slum Upgrade Program), unveiled in Nairobi last week by U.N.-Habitat, will test this thesis in Kibera, a Nairobi slum that more than a million Kenyans call home. KENSUP's funding strategy involves the United Nations' coordinating private-sector loans to Kibera homeowners so that they can buy or improve their residences. Once this basic measure of financial stability is in place, U.N.- Habitat plans to set up financial institutions and attract venture capitalists to provide tenants with loan programs.

Pie in the sky? Critics point out that it will cost about $1 billion in funding to improve life in Kibera alone. But the urban poor, says the United Nations's Chris Williams, are reliable when it comes to paying back loans, and could eventually contribute up to 40 percent of the project, with only 5 percent coming from donor aid. We hope he's right.

VACCINES

Flu Fears

Influenza kills up to half a million people every year. A big reason: the world relies on 18 manufacturers for the 250 million doses of vaccines made annually. This dearth of vaccine producers was underscored last week when British health regulators revoked the license of a vaccine factory, owned by Chiron Corp., that supplies half of U.S. vaccine supplies and 20 percent of Britain's.

Why is the world so unprepared for such a routine threat? The 18 vaccine producers, which include GlaxoSmithKline and Aventis Pasteur, can only afford to produce the number of doses they think they'll be able to sell. So if demand increases in a particularly harsh flu season, there simply aren't enough shots to go around. Worse still, vaccines take at least 4 to 6 months to produce, so rapid response is out of the question. The panic following the suspension of Chiron's license last week reveals just how vulnerable the world would be in the face of a dead-ly flu pandemic. "The production capacities are insufficient," says Aventis' Luc Hessel, who also chairs the Influenza Vaccine Supply International Task Force. For now, try stocking up on tissues.

OLD BRAINS

If your doctor threatened to "get medieval," you'd run screaming. But a new archeological discovery from Anglo-Saxon England shows that medieval medicine was more advanced than historians realize. In A.D. 960, a brain surgeon operated on the peasant victim of a violent assault. By scraping a hole into the patient's skull, the surgeon relieved the pressure caused by extensive cranial fractures. "This is exactly what a modern surgeon would attempt to do in a similar case," says Simon Mays, the skeletal biologist at the English Heritage Center for Archeology who made the discovery. "The surgery saved his life." The 40-year-old peasant's treatment involved lifting a patch of scalp measuring 10.2 by 8.9 centimeters, then scraping down through the skull to just above the brain's membrane. The surgeon delicately removed shards of skull before sewing the scalp together again. The surgery proved so successful that the patient lived for many years, dying of unrelated causes.

Trepanning, the process of relieving pressure on the brain by cutting away skull, was practiced in Greco-Roman times; knowledge of the operation was thought to have been lost until well into the 13th century. This peasant's skull, found in Yorkshire, proves that brain surgery survived throughout the medieval period.

THEATER

Rock This Town

Forget VH1. Next time you have a burning desire to watch your favorite '80s celeb, turn off the tube and head to London's West End. Over the past few months several Hollywood retreads have popped up in the British capital's theater district. "Stars attract audiences," says theatrical publicist Ben Chamberlain. "And, to be honest, any celebrity will do." Christian Slater's drawn in nearly $2 million in advance sales for "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest"; the show is sold out until November. "Beverly Hills, 90210" star Luke Perry played to near-sellout crowds this spring in an adaptation of "When Harry Met Sally." And "Baywatch" star David Hasselhoff "significantly boosted sales" for the long-running musical "Chicago" during his nine-week stint, says the show's publicist. This fall, Cybill Shepherd and Jerry Hall will try their luck in the West End. Ticket sales are expected to be, like, totally awesome.

MOVIES

Cheering for 'Vera'

The last three women to win a best actress Oscar did it by playing a suicidal author, a dirt-poor mother grieving for her dead son and a serial-killing prostitute. So surely Imelda Staunton, star of last week's New York Film Festival hit "Vera Drake," is well-positioned for a statue: she plays a 1950s working-class East Londoner arrested for performing living-room abortions. Staunton herself is 48, and barely known outside of the London theater world. Yet in this year's wide-open race for best actress, she's the category's first near-lock nominee. Just don't tell her that. "Well, it's very worrying, isn't it? The pressure!" Staunton laughs. "Truly, though, without sounding ungrateful, I've had my prize. Making this film was the biggest thrill of my life."

How very British. But Staunton isn't just being polite. "Vera Drake" writer-director Mike Leigh ("Secrets and Lies," "Topsy-Turvy") has made his name in art-house cinema by giving actors their dream jobs. Vera is a quiet, relentless do-gooder, a loving mother who cleans rich peoples' houses by day and has a soft spot for penniless young girls "in a bit of trouble," as Vera says. She's the kind of woman who spends most of her life unnoticed and prefers it that way, but in Staunton's hands, she's an unforgettable creation.

The film's greatest virtue is that it refuses to lecture. "There's no religion or politics in the film," Staunton says. "It just looks at the bare bones of this act with compassion for everyone involved." That includes the police who arrest Vera and the judges who decide her case. Are we giving away too much? It's OK, the plot is secondary. Staunton is the top prize.

Afghanistan: Searching for Osama

Imagine if the directors of the "Blair Witch Project" hauled their cast to Afghanistan, tasked them with finding Osama bin Laden and hired agitated Afghans--some of them bearing live, cocked guns--as unpaid extras. That's what American director Christian Johnston had in mind when he conceived of "September Tapes," a newly released feature film on Afghanistan that purposely blurs the lines between fact and fiction.

Less than a year after September 11, Johnston and his crew snuck into Afghanistan to film the faux documentary about bounty hunters searching for bin Laden. The movie focuses on one rather obnoxious man's search to discover the truth about 9/11, or at least to find bin Laden and take him out. The crew of guerrilla filmmakers kept the cameras rolling as they filmed real-life arms dealers, Afghan warlords and battle scenes. The fictional scenes give an even deeper sense of the chaotic region. "September Tapes" was a hit at Sundance earlier this year, and the filmmakers say that the Defense Department confiscated approximately eight hours of raw footage after deeming it a security threat. "We had actual Northern Alliance officials on tape saying they would drug and beat people to get information on bin Laden," says co-producer Wali Razaqi, who plays an Afghan-American translator in the film. "They also said the United States isn't really interested in capturing bin Laden because they let him slip away on purpose." Fact or fiction? Let the viewer decide.

Q&A: Gisele Bundchen

Gisele Bundchen has all the supermodel prerequisites: the magazine covers, the movie-star boyfriend (a certain Mr. DiCaprio) and now the inevitable film debut, as a bank robber who drives the getaway car in "Taxi." She spoke to NEWSWEEK's Nicki Gostin.

Are you a good driver?

I think so. I like speed but I'm pretty careful.

Do you buckle up for safety?

Yes, but you have to now in America, otherwise you get a ticket.

You have five sisters. Did your dad feel left out?

My dad sees it as him and his harem. Can you imagine all of us having our period at the same time?

Do you watch what you eat?

Not at all. I love meat. I come from the south of Brazil. God, I was raised a carnivore.

So if you want creme brulee?

I love creme brulee. You have to understand I don't have a typical job. I'm not sitting typing all day.

Yeah, you're modeling underwear!

But I'm never still. If I was at home I would find something to clean. I clean everything.

Down on your knees, scrubbing toilets?

When we were little my parents were always working and we kind of raised each other. My older sisters were so mean. They used to have a little bell they would ring and everyone would have one place to clean and I always got the bathroom. I'm so obsessive-compulsive. I'm the best cleaning lady in the world.