28 Mar 23 | Afghanistan, News and features
In deeply patriarchal and repressive societies like Afghanistan women have always been subjected to gender-based discrimination and violence. This was the case before the Taliban came to power but it has become much worse since – and women, who were already underrepresented in the media industry, are suffering immeasurably.
The dwindling community of female journalists has reached a concerning level. Soon after the Taliban’s coup they started a crackdown on all journalists. There were raids on the houses of journalists, arrests, detentions, intimidation and harassment.
In addition to direct threats, the Taliban started to systematically harass women in the media to make it difficult for them to work. The Taliban introduced strict dress codes, including making the veil mandatory. The ban on long-distance travel of women without a male guardian has made field work for women impossible. Women have also been banned from appearing on TV shows. The Taliban effectively want us to completely disappear from the media landscape.
Due to these barbaric laws many women have lost their jobs and many have fled the country. Those women who were the sole earners in the family are now living in destitution.
The outflux of women with essential skills has created a brain drain in Afghanistan. Years of progress with regards to media development, women empowerment and capacity building of women in media has been undone by the Taliban in merely two years. All the women journalists who toiled for years and built up their skills – despite the difficulties – are now either confined to the home or in exile in miserable situations. Unfortunately some have lost their lives in attempts to seek shelter. A female senior Pashto journalist, Torpekai Amarkhel, drowned with her family in a boat sailing them to Italy just a few weeks ago.
Amarkhel’s asylum case for Australia was in process. But due to the long, arduous, slow and chaotic process of filling and requesting asylum or refugee status in developed countries, journalists in distress are opting for perilous and illegal means of immigration. It’s a response coming from extreme desperation and frustration. Western countries must try to understand this and must make the visa process easy, fast and efficient.
Within Afghanistan, people’s desperation is being exploited for financial gain. Acquiring essential travel documents is being aggravated by long delays, tough requirements and chaotic procedures, which has meant the opening of illegal channels to mint more money from helpless people running for their lives. For example the average fees for a passport right now is at least $3000 and fees for a Pakistani visa is $1200. This makes the legal evacuation from Afghanistan for those journalists at risk almost impossible, forcing them to opt for illegal channels. For those taking this route the outcomes can be awful. In many instances people are arrested and detained in neighbouring countries.
In exile the Afghan journalists are unable to continue their journalistic work due to a myriad of issues, such as lack of opportunities in the countries of temporary residence, language barriers, legal barriers and discrimination against Afghans. The result? Women journalists in exile are either forced to stay at home or they are forced to do menial work to simply make end meets. They’re out of work, gaps in their career growing. Some are now quitting the industry and switching careers.
The situation is stifling for male journalists too. The heart-wrenching stories of Afghan journalists are sadly countless. A journalist who worked alongside me in a media outlet recently posted on Twitter and other social media platforms about selling one of his kidneys to get some money to support himself and his family in exile in Pakistan. Another journalist from Afghanistan trashed all his academic and professional documents out of frustration at his joblessness and inability to get any humanitarian support. And another journalist, a senior one with a strong track record in the industry, has become a cobbler working in the streets.
In order to save the community of journalists in general, and women journalists in particular, the world must act. Western countries must open their doors so that we can access work, education and free speech and expression which we have been denied in our own country. But everyone can help protect Afghan journalists and create opportunities for them within Afghanistan and in exile. Engage with Afghan journalists through fellowships, scholarships, workshops, training and other opportunities to save the media from dying. And finally pressurise the Taliban to reverse their barbaric decisions that have created a gender-based apartheid and is pushing generations of Afghans back to the stone age.
17 Dec 21 | Afghanistan, Magazine, Media Freedom, News and features, Volume 50.04 Winter 2021, Volume 50.04 Winter 2021 Extras
As a woman and a journalist, I have been living my worst nightmare since 15 August 2021, the day the Afghan capital, Kabul, fell to the Taliban. Since that Sunday, I have been reporting about what women have lost – and what they continue to lose – as the new regime expands its power.
The Taliban have limited every aspect of women’s lives, from banning them from school and work to introducing long black uniforms that cover them from head to toe. Having grown up in Kabul since 2001, when the Taliban were deposed, I never imagined a return to the days when women were forced to stay home because of their gender.
When I was working as a journalist based in Kabul between 2011 and 2017, the media was the last hope for dissidents. Now the media, which continue to expose wrongdoing, have turned into dissidents. Today, making an editorial decision in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan is literally making a decision about life and death.
In our small newsroom at Rukhshana Media, an all-women news website, one recurrent concern is how to tell a story with minimum risk to the people involved. The journalist is often the first to face the consequences of his or her work.
Journalism under the Taliban
Afghanistan has never been a safe country for journalists but, after 2001, the nascent Afghan media were freer than media in neighbouring countries.
Now they can hardly function without getting visits and calls from the new rulers in charge – the group that labelled the media a military target and continued to threaten them before coming to power in mid-August.
Media outlets are closing and journalists are being arrested, tortured and being forced to go on the run.
On 14 August, the day before Kabul fell, Mujeeb Khalwatgar, executive director of the Afghan media advocacy group Nai, told me his organisation had heard from journalists in Baghlan, Kandahar and Herat provinces that the Taliban were searching for them.
The same day, I talked to a young journalist from the north-eastern province of Badakhshan who said his name was on the Taliban’s blacklist. He was hiding outside Fayzabad, the provincial capital.
Days before the Taliban took Fayzabad, one of his female colleagues was attacked by a man who covered his face. She survived the attack, but they were worried whether they could survive the new regime.
I talked to several women reporters from the provinces who sought shelter in Kabul as the Taliban took over, hoping to leave the country on evacuation flights. Many of them didn’t make it.
In early November, a 24-year-old-woman, one of only three female journalists in an entire province – who asked me not to name the province – said she was on a Taliban blacklist, according to a relative who was working with the militants. The radio station she worked for was among more than 150 media outlets forced to close because of Taliban-imposed restrictions and the economic crisis a month after Kabul fell.
As the breadwinner of a family of nine, the change in rulers meant she not only lost her job but is on the run for her life, simply for being a woman journalist. In the past two months, she has been forced to change her place of residence seven times to hide from the Taliban.
Women journalists are disappearing
An Afghan female journalist attends a Taliban news conference. Photo REUTERS/Jorge Silva
Two weeks after the Taliban’s return to power, Reporters Without Borders warned that “women journalists are in the process of disappearing from the capital”. The organisation noted that, of about 700 women journalists with jobs in Kabul, more than 600 had not returned to work. Some fled while others were forced to stay at home or go into hiding.
Our investigation at Rukhshana Media shows that there are no women journalists in radio or TV working in the western provinces of Herat, Farah, Badghis and Ghor.
The systematic removal of women from the media landscape is not the only immediate consequence of the Taliban’s return to power. Just three weeks after their takeover, the militants arrested 14 journalists, with at least nine of them subjected to violence during their detention, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists. Among those detained were an editor and four other journalists at Etilaat Roz, a newspaper that was a winner of Transparency International’s Anti-Corruption Award in 2020. Two of them were tortured by the Taliban and needed hospital treatment.
Today, journalists – both men and women – are still on the run. In November, I talked to a 31-year-old journalist who for the past eight years has been an investigative reporter for local print and online outlets. Since 15 August, he has been on the run with his family of four, having spent nights in five different places. He is particularly worried about his investigations into the Taliban-run religious schools.
“No one is listening to my calls for help, no one. I am just hoping the Taliban don’t catch me alive,” he said.
Reporters Without Borders and Human Rights Watch have issued warnings about the Taliban censorship of media, especially their “media regulations” which require journalists and media not to produce content “contrary to Islam” and not to report on “matters that have not been confirmed by officials”.
The chief editor of a radio station in Kabul who, despite not having a passport, attempted (unsuccessfully) to get on an evacuation flight out of the country in late August, told me his story. Now he is back at work, where, in one month, the Taliban have visited his office four times. Twice when his colleagues used the word “Taliban” instead of “the Islamic Emirate”, he received calls warning him to be careful with the choice of words.
He says his radio station, like all other Afghan media outlets, is under the Taliban’s scrutiny. Three of his colleagues in other provinces have been ordered by provincial officials to send their news first to the Taliban before it is signed off for broadcast.
With reliable sources of information having dried up and journalists either on the run or operating in an environment of fear, censorship and self-censorship, it is becoming harder to be a journalist.
The new environment creates opportunities for the circulation of false stories and propaganda on social media. Lately, it has become difficult to distinguish between real news and propaganda. Many on social media, including some journalists, are propagating stories that correspond with their biases and social and political prejudices which then will be used by some international media to verify their own assumptions and biases.
Fake news
Exposing false and misleading stories has been one of the primary goals of our team at Rukhshana Media, where we investigated two stories directly connected to misinformation and staged reporting in the past two months.
Many news outlets reported that Mahjabin Hakimi, a 25-year-old professional volleyball player, was beheaded by the Taliban. The reports were based entirely on the claim of her coach in Kabul’s volleyball club who spoke under a pseudonym. But our investigation, in which we interviewed five sources, including her parents and a friend who was present the day her body was found, showed that she died on 6 August – nine days before the Taliban took over Kabul.
In the second story, several people connected to the family of a nine-year-old girl featured in CNN’s bombshell report on child marriage told Rukhshana Media the report was invented.
Our reporters are working on the ground to bring women’s stories to the surface of a male-dominated Afghan media. In the past months, we have partnered with two international newsrooms, The Guardian and The Fuller Project, which has helped amplify the voice of Afghan women to wider audiences outside the country.
With women journalists remaining at risk, we are trying to create opportunities for them to continue their work and tell the stories of women in Taliban-ruled Afghanistan, where they are banned from work and education and have no idea when they will be able to return to public life.
26 Aug 21 | Afghanistan, Opinion, Ruth's blog
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”117302″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes”][vc_column_text]Yesterday I met with my local Afghani community. I left in tears. Their stories of heartbreak, of worry for their friends and families and their guilt at being safe in the UK while their loved ones hid in fear was heart-wrenching. Their distress at not being able to get money for food to their family.
These are the people behind the news. The real stories of the impact of the fall of Kabul and the rise of the Taliban. The devastating accounts of people whose lives have changed in a matter of days beyond all recognition. For every person successfully fleeing the Taliban, hundreds are left at their mercy. Women and girls who have been allowed an education and a career for the last two decades. Aid workers who bravely sought to work with global institutions to rebuild their country and a century of conflict. Journalists and activists who strove to make their country better by doing what civil society does – speak truth to power. All now vulnerable because they were brave and wanted to make their country a better place. All now targets of the Taliban.
We have all watched in despair at the news as desperate people have sought assistance to flee the Taliban, a repressive regime that recognises none of the liberal democratic values Index on Censorship was established to promote and defend. A regime that will quash artistic expression, that will destroy artwork, that will treat women and religious minorities as second-class citizens, that will allow no free media, that will seek to not just silence dissent but kill it.
Twenty years ago, in response to one of the worst terror attacks in my lifetime, NATO powers entered Afghanistan to tackle al-Qaida. We made promises to the people of Afghanistan and we offered them hope for a better life. Our actions over the last 18 months, compounded in the last two weeks, show that we have ignored those promises.
There are too many journalists left behind who have deleted their life’s work in the hope that they won’t be targeted. Too many women who were promised a better life, who trained to be doctors and judges and journalists, who will now be in hiding – told to stay at home for their own safety. Too many artists who will leave in fear, who won’t be able to work, to express themselves, to tell their stories. Anybody who is even a little bit different will be a target for Taliban soldiers.
So, what can we do? What should we do? How can we help? Index and many other of its sister human rights organisations have been desperately trying to support people on the ground to get to safety. There are amazing charities who will support Afghani refugees when they get to a safe haven. This is the least we can do. But my fear isn’t today or tomorrow when the world’s media is reporting hourly on events – it’s what happens next week, next month, next year when the world is distracted by a new crisis – a new disaster. What happens to the people left behind then – when the Taliban think the world has moved on?
Index is working with people on the ground, who are determined to stay, who want to both document the actions of the Taliban and try and protect at least an element of free speech. In the coming weeks we’ll report back on this new work programme because we’ll need your help.
But for now, we watch on in horror and heartbreak.
Postscript
As I am writing, reports of terror attacks on Kabul airport and the Baron Hotel started to emerge. My thoughts and prayers are with everyone affected and the brave military and civilian personnel who are doing everything they can, at huge risk, to save as many people as possible.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][three_column_post title=”You may also want to read” category_id=”41669″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
13 Jul 21 | Afghanistan, Media Freedom, News and features
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”117075″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes”][vc_column_text]I was on a conference call with my colleague Ajmal Omari a while ago when we were briefly interrupted by what seemed like static. The disruption was no more than the usual challenges of internet connectivity one faces while working in Afghanistan, and we continued our conversation.
After the call, Ajmal texted me to inform me that the “interruptions” were actually a number of BM-1 rockets hitting the neighbourhood of his office. While he and his colleagues survived the attack, there was considerable damage to their building and vehicles parked outside. For Ajmal, a dedicated, talented Afghan reporter and journalist, this was yet another close call.
Despite much progress in the area of free speech and expression, particularly in the years that followed the fall of the Taliban, Afghanistan is a high-risk country for the journalists who work here. The risk is exacerbated for local reporters who face threats not only from the insurgent groups, but also from the strongmen and war lords that have gained power and influence in the country over the last two decades.
The situation has worsened since the US-initiated political settlement in 2019. The eventual deal that the US administration struck with the Taliban in February 2020 saw the start of a new chapter in violence in Afghanistan, one that was more bloody than anything this generation of Afghans had experienced.
Targeted violence, much of it coming from an emboldened Taliban, saw a spike in assassinations of civil activists, government officials and Afghan journalists. According to Human Rights Watch, “Taliban commanders and fighters have engaged in a pattern of threats, intimidation, and violence against members of the media”. At least 11 Afghan journalists were killed in 2020, and five more have been murdered this year, four of them women. Many others, in the meanwhile, have had several “close calls” like the one Ajmal witnessed.
Several journalists who have faced threats are seeking safe spaces in other countries, while those who can’t leave find themselves displaced internally. Over the last year, I have met and interviewed many Afghan journalists who are on the constant move to be able to survive the threats they face in their provinces. The violent threats they face are not only inhuman, but also a major blow to the Afghanistan’s free press.
One such journalist is Habibullah Sarwary, who has worked as a journalist for a decade and half in one of the most dangerous, albeit vibrant, places on Earth. Sarwary, whose name I have changed to protect his identity, is now in exile from his home in southern Afghanistan.
“I have covered everything, from war to development; I have exposed corrupt warlords and documented the rise of insurgency in the country. I have also reported on the more beautiful side of Afghanistan and its culture. But now I am a marked man,” Sarwary told me. While Sarwary is no stranger to threats arising from his profession, the murder of a colleague at the hands of the insurgent group forced him to take the threats more seriously.
Today, Sarwary is a displaced man, seeking to go home to his family. “I can’t return because the Taliban leaders have threaten to kill me if I do. My family has tried to negotiate with them but they won’t let me return,” he said, talking from a safe house where he has been holed up for the past 10 months.
As the violence in the south, and across the country, worsens, Sarwary’s hope of returning home fades further. Aside from the mental stress and physical discomfort he faces, Sarwary is also out of a job. “The south was my turf, it is my home and I am most familiar with its issues. Here I can’t do any useful work or make money to support my family back home,” he said. “I have run out of savings, and am surviving on the kindness of friends,” he added, the sadness evident in his voice.
He hopes the warring parties are able negotiate a political settlement that could reduce the violence. However, he urges the Taliban to allow him to return to his home so he can document the historical changes taking place in Afghanistan. “I should be there right now telling the story of Afghanistan,” he said.
There seems to be next to no hope of improvement in the near future. In the last three months, the withdrawal of US and Nato forces has furthered invigorated the Taliban who have launched increased military attacks on many districts across the country. Afghan journalists are risking their lives to report on these violent developments and often get targeted by warring parties who do not always provide the press the immunity they should.
The situation is worse for women in media, who not only face threats from the insurgent but also from the fundamentalist elements in society who disapprove of them. A recent report by the Afghan Journalist Safety Committee (AJSC) revealed that over 300 women in media—18 per cent of the total number of the country’s female press—quit journalism in a span of six months in 2020, reducing an already small community to the fringes of extinction.
The AJSC report also noted that nine of the 34 provinces in Afghanistan did not have a single female journalist employed by a news service. In a country where many social spaces remain gender-segregated, lack of women’s presence in media essentially means that women’s voices, concerns and issues from these areas are excluded from the national debate and discussions, not very unlike the days of the Taliban regime.
Today, as the Taliban attempts to control more territory and destabilise the rest of the country, Afghan journalists are very concerned over the future of free media in the country—a celebrated gain of the last two decades. Afghan media houses that have flourished since the fall of the Taliban had thrived because of the relatively unregulated media landscape, providing a unique platform for Afghans to vocalise their political, social and cultural diversity.
Their future in the country now remains uncertain, especially in parts where the Taliban already has some control. The insurgent group has never been one to encourage free and inclusive speech, and has often used its military might to suppress vanguards of freedom of expression. In many places, media businesses have already restrained their operations; in other regions they are withdrawing investments. The eventual fall out of this is bound to impact the unbiased, unrestricted flow of critical information. The information blackout will in turn contribute to suppressing civic and social rights of the Afghans.
It has never been more clear than it is now, that increasing attacks on Afghan media are an attempt to trigger an intellectual blackout of an entire generation.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]
