After five hours of waiting, French journalists are finally rewarded
with
this: G8 leaders arrive
for their ‘family photo.’
French Journalists
Cover the G8: YAWN! (Le Monde, France)
Ever wonder what it’s like to cover
a major summit at a place like Camp David, with some of the most powerful heads
of state in the world? For France’s Le Monde, correspondent Thomas Wieder describes what is was like to be admitted to Camp
David for the privilege of witnessing what is known as the ‘family photo’: the
moment when all the leaders stand together and smile for the cameras.
President Obama and German Chancellor Merkel walk at the G8 summit, May 19. Presumably, they were not discussing the relative virtues of austerity and stimulus. i.e.: 'growth.'
Five hours to go 40
kilometers [25 miles]. At the start, it seemed like that would be more than enough
time. Once we arrived, we realized that it was just enough. Saturday, May 19,
accredited French journalists with tortoise-like speed made our way into the
ultra-secure confines of Camp David to have the privilege of being present for
the “family photo” of the eight heads of state and government leaders holding
an all-day summit there.
6:30am. The sun
rises over the east coast of the United States. The sky is clear, the air
fresh. Twenty-four French journalists leave the Eisenhower Resort Inn of
Gettysburg, a large hotel complex nestled in the wilderness some 100 kilometers
[62 miles] north of Washington; a black minibus awaits.
A quarter hour later, it
makes its first stop in front of an American “high school.” Our small band
alights. The minibus pulls away. A few minutes' wait and a large white coach arrives. We board. We’re back on the road.
Twenty minutes pass as the
bus advances slowly on Route 15 headed south. The countryside is bucolic,
undulating, punctuated by creeks, lush. The ambiance is right out of Little
House on the Prairie. All at once a sign indicates that we have left
Pennsylvania for Maryland. Then another stop.
This time, no one gets off
the bus. The driver asks us passengers to remain seated. A few seconds later, a
man of intimidating stature enters. His bulletproof vest tells the reason: “Secret
Service.” He inspects each row, checks that everyone has their “yellow badges,”
i.e.: their key to entering the security zone. The bus departs anew and stops
again 300 meters later; an individual resembling the previous man’s brother
conducts the same inspection. Needless to say that in the meantime, no one has
taken a single step outside; you can never be too careful.
The turns become sharper and
the forest denser, but the coach nonetheless flies through the narrow roads of
Catoctin Mountain Park. It stops at a gymnasium that has been transformed into
a press room. Large tables cover the floor. Beneath basketball hoops, giant
televisions broadcast images from news channels nonstop. And that morning, the
head of a sinister-looking man loops in: A dangerous criminal is lurking nearby.
Local television stations are on alert.
We don’t have much time to learn
more, because it is already time to leave. A new coach awaits.
We get up its steps and we wait. The bus rolls forward a few hundred meters and
we descend once more. There, large white tents have been erected. Inside are security screening facilities. A squirrel passes. We
wait. We walk forward slowly. Dogs that are not permitted to provoke anyone inspect
bags here and there. More buses stop, open their doors and then close their
doors. No one embarks, no one alights. No one understands the need for the
ballet, nor the obstacles reserved for the French press. It is already 9 o’clock
in the morning.
On this bus - the fourth in three
hours - a soldier with a shaved head briefs journalists:
“How are you guys today? Show
me your yellow badges!” It suddenly seemed like a vacation. “No cell phones,
please, no pictures. Cameras must be turned off.” One learns quickly not to
make jokes.
Outside, the forest is just
as dense. From time to time, there is a red light - surprising on a narrow
mountain road where not a single other vehicle passes. A wooden sign, similar
to those that mark the entrances of all U.S. national parks, signals we have
arrived: “Camp David.”
Well, not just yet. First we still
must pass through several security checkpoints, a double row of electrified
barbed wire, and a well-guarded gate. Once inside the confines, the bus crawls
on. To the left, we notice Marine One, the American president's helicopter. A
little farther on are tennis courts. On the paths sit golf carts. And amidst the trees, small wooden houses. So this is it:
Camp David.
Soon, our small group
disembarks in front of what is presented as “The Chapel.” From the outside it
resembles a mountain chalet. Once inside, they understand: a photo of Barack
and Michelle Obama with Pope Benedict XVI, Bibles, an organ, and a grand piano
draped in a cloth. Standing in the four corners of the room are rangers with bilging
pectorals and intimidating revolvers under “United States Army” flags.
Posted by Worldmeets.US
The wait in this kitschy
chapel transformed into a press room lasts almost an hour. Happily, Wifi allows us to connect to the Internet. Thus, resting on
benches facing the altar, we all attempt to glean a few facts about the first secret
meetings between heads of state that began a few minutes earlier.
It is 10a.m. On foot, our little troop makes its way through the
woods, in an orderly fashion, behind a Marine. At the edge of the woods we spot
a wide lawn on which is installed a pale wooden podium. On it is the
inscription: “G8 Summit 2012.”
The minutes tick by. Behind a
cordon, journalists and photographers are briefed again. Marines armed to the
teeth and carrying walkie-talkies receive a series of instructions through
their headsets. At both ends of the lawn, sentries are stationed to indicate
the perimeter beyond which it is forbidden to take photographs. Other Marines
are emptying mosquito repellent spray cans on the lawn.
The “family photo” was
planned for 10:45. They [G8 leaders] finally appear at noon. Ten colorful
silhouettes: Hermann Van Rompuy, president of the
European Council, in a orange sweater; Mario Monti,
president of the Italian Council, in a peach sweater; Barack Obama, in
shirtsleeves. François Hollande is a bit out of place
in a black suit. Also present are José Manuel Barroso,
president of the European Commission; German Chancellor Angela Merkel; and the
Japanese, Canadian, and Russian prime ministers, Yoshiko Noda, Stephen Harper,
and Dmitri Medvedev.
They line up in rows facing
the journalists.
“Beautiful day,” Barack Obama
throws out.
“There's only French press
here,” François Hollande laughs, who smiles wide at
the journalists he recognizes.
“We still have work to do,” Obama cuts in.
A journalist makes an
attempt: “Have you spoken about the eurozone?”
Hollande responds in English, “What kind of questions.”
It is 12:04. This is the
moment for which 24 French journalists waited more than five and a half hours.
