Arafat and Reynolds

What is the BBC’s James Reynolds supposed to be doing in the Middle East?

I ask the question after reading this report, on his exclusive interview with Yasser Arafat last week. It doesn't seem to have attracted much comment but to me, it’s a piece of unconscionable fluff.

The intro is a load of self-deprecating nonsense.

It's one of those odd, disappointing rules of journalism - you spend years covering someone's every word and action, you confidently explain the thinking behind everything they ever do. But in spite of all this - you never actually meet them.It's always fairly embarrassing to tell people about this. Most tend to expect foreign correspondents to be confidants and foreign policy advisers to all the main leaders in their area.

The route to the interview is filled with details so innocuous they seem grotesque:

Half a dozen guards lounged around on plastic chairs outside the sandbagged entrance. They were watched by a white cat - who looked much more alert than any of the guards. We were led up past the sandbags into a small office on the first floor - opposite what looked like a bedroom. We set up our cameras and lights. One of Mr Arafat's men looked in and called the lighting romantic.

After the interview (which is sparsely reported), Reynolds, Arafat and his entourage stand around talking.

This, of course, should have been my chance to ask all those vital offbeat questions I should have been storing up in my mind for two years. Instead - fairly crushingly - I drifted into the most banal of small talk.

"Do you ever miss going outside?" I asked Mr Arafat.
He walked over to the window and pulled open the curtains.
"This is the only place I can get air," he said.

He opened the window and breathed in dramatically, looking at me - it seemed - for approval.

The whole report is marked by a naivity that is distinctly out of place in a foreign correspondent, but it's Reynolds' closing remark that demonstrates how truly divorced from reality he is:

I can't say I worked out who was more real - the eager old man breathing in fresh air, or the angry leader who warned me never to forget who he was.

Really? The BBC doesn't know whether Arafat is an angry Palestinian leader or just a tired old man yearning to breathe free!

Unbelievable.