In the shadow of Mugabe

Journalist Stanley Kwenda has fled Zimbabwe after receivg a death thread from a senior police officer. In the current issue of Index of Censorship magazine he muses on press freedom in Zimbabwe.

The new coalition government in Zimbabwe has so far failed to deliver on its promise of greater media freedom, says Stanley Kwenda

Over the past three decades, censorship has become a fact of life in Zimbabwe. But it was in 2008 that the system became firmly entrenched. Few dared to speak out against Robert Mugabe’s rule, even at the height of the general election campaign. During that period, Zimbabweans from all walks of life learnt how to self-censor and media organisations had to sift through their reports and edit out any potentially “dangerous” information. We all had to, and still have to, look around before saying anything about politics.

“You don’t know the person you are speaking to so I always exercise restraint,” says Frank Chikowore, a freelance journalist who has been arrested many times in recent years on a variety of bogus charges. The Zimbabwean constitution provides for freedom of speech and of the press, but legislation limits these freedoms in the “interests of defence, public safety, public order, state economic interests, public morality and public health”.

Robert Mugabe and his Zanu PF party, who had ruled Zimbabwe with an iron fist since 1980, lost the 2008 election to the Movement for DemocraticChange (MDC) led by Morgan Tsvangirai. Tsvangirai’s winning margin was not enough to allow him to form a government on his own, so a run-off presidential poll was ordered. Tsvangirai was later to withdraw from the race because of the violence directed against his supporters.

When the regional Southern African Development Community stepped in to mediate the ensuing political crisis, the talks, led by former South African president Thabo Mbeki, resulted in the signing of the Global Political Agreement (GPA), and the formation of a hybrid government involving three of the country’s main political parties. Last October, Morgan Tsvangirai announced that the MDC was disengaging from the unity government. Under the GPA, the new government was committed to restoring freedom of expression and to doing away with the censorship culture. But for many Zimbabweans, this was a commitment that, given the country’s history, sounded too good to be true.

Still fresh in people’s minds are the events of 2007 when, as part of a wider plan to censor and silence government critics and journalists, the government introduced a law, the Interception of Communications Act, which legalised the censorship of all communications. Its remit included emails, telephone calls, the internet and postal material.

The law, described by many critics of the government as “fascist”, was designed to contain political dissent and suppress the free flow of information. It made it mandatory, for instance, for internet service providers to install monitoring equipment at their own expense, and it gave the state security minister the power to issue warrants for interceptions.

The MDC continues to argue that this piece of legislation flouts the “fundamental rights of citizens”. “We have said such laws must go and we will ensure that they are repealed because they serve no purpose in modern day democracies except to help entrench dictatorship,” says Nelson Chamisa, the MDC’s spokesperson and Zimbabwe’s minister of information, communication and technology.

But those who suffered under the old regime are still waiting for things to change under the new national unity government, which came into being in February 2009. “The only thing that has changed with the coming of the new government are the faces, otherwise the way of doing things remains the same. People still can’t freely express themselves,” says Lovemore Matombo, president of the Zimbabwe Congress of Trade Unions (ZCTU).

In May 2008, the police arrested Matombo and ZCTU general secretary Wellington Chibebe for mentioning in their May Day speeches thecontroversial election that saw Mugabe returned to power and the ensuing violent intimidation campaign.

The two were charged with “inciting people to rise against the government and reporting falsehood about people being killed”. Between them they have experienced the whole gamut of President Mugabe’s brutality and the fact that acts of censorship are continuing does not surprise them.

Chibebe, a key ally of Prime Minister Tsvangirai, says: “The witchhunt mentality is still very much part of us, nothing is going to change until President Mugabe goes, otherwise we are wasting our time. He is like a leopard which will not change its spots just because it has seen a lion.”

Few independent media have operated in the country since independence. The Mugabe government has always kept a tight grip on the media. State radio and television have dominated the landscape, filling airtime with propaganda supporting the ruling party and vilifying the opposition. No independent daily newspapers and private broadcast outlets operate in Zimbabwe.

Only two prominent independent weeklies continue to publish. The government does not take much notice of them as they have a circulation of about 15,000 in a country of some 13 million. Despite this, they still practise self-censorship for fear of the unknown. From time to time bullets are sent to the editors as a way of silencing them.

Most independent news coverage is provided by exiled Zimbabwean journalists who operate foreign-based websites and radio stations from London, Washington and South Africa. These exiled news organisations work with reporters on the ground in Zimbabwe. A small handful of South African newspapers are also circulated in the country.

New York Times reporter Barry Bearak, who attempted to cover the Zimbabwe elections without accreditation, summarises best just how the Zimbabwean government is averse to the free flow of information: “I was being charged with the crime of committing journalism,” he says. Even today one can be arrested for taking pictures or doing vox pops in the street. Ironically, the country’s new government promised a quick fix to all this. Parliament passed amendments to a restrictive media law to allow Zimbabwean reporters to work without accreditation and to ease entry into the country for international journalists.

But cases of media harrassment continue. “The same old tactics of intimidation aimed at silencing critics are still being used,” says the human rights lawyer Beatrice Mtetwa. I was part of a group of journalists who challenged the continued existence of the media and information commission, the body which was used by the government to accredit journalists. Even after a ruling by the High Court in June, which made the commission defunct, the government continued to insist on accreditation and barred me and three other journalists, Stanley Gama, Jealous Mawarire and Valentine Maponga, from covering an international conference.

Crisis in Zimbabwe Coalition (CZC) is an organisation that brings together more than 50 human, civic, social and economic rights groups, churches, women’s groups, as well as labour and student movements. It was seen by the previous Mugabe-led government as part of the so-called regime-change agenda. In its latest report on the political climate in Zimbabwe, published in September, CZC concluded that censorship is still rooted in the country’s fibre and questioned “the government’s sincerity towards media reform”. The report, entitled “Can apples be reaped from a thorn tree?”, argues that laws continue to be used as an instrument to keep a tight grip on the media. “The euphoria which characterised initial stages of the inclusive government died slowly, as hopes for media reform faded due to Zanu PF’s continued control of public media and the failure by the government to open up the media market to allow for entry of private media houses,” it stated.

According to Takura Zhangazha, the director of the Media Institute of Southern Africa Zimbabwe chapter: “The government has not made any progress towards the repealing of censorship laws in the country or in addressing a culture of denying people’s rights to express themselves.”

Colonial legislative relics are still in operation. Among them is the Censorship and Entertainment Control Act, which bars the performance of particular works of art. There is also the Public Order and Security Act (Posa), which limits any speeches that are deemed derogatory of the president or security services. Also still in existence is the Official Secrets Act, which denies ordinary people access to information and discussions around what they perceive to have happened in government cabinet meetings.

The Criminal Law Codification and Reform Act and Posa have been used against journalists. A recent example is the arrest in May of Zimbabwe Independent newspaper editor Vincent Kahiya and news editor Constantine Chimakure for writing stories that were alleged to be false. This was despite the fact that the story they had written was based on an official court record.

Civic society organisations that disagree with the way in which the government is approaching the writing of the country’s new constitution or how it is going about instituting media reforms are being denied coverage on state media. “The problem is that the new government is dominated by Zanu PF’s censorship culture and is still headed by Mugabe who has the executive final say on what laws should be repealed or changed or returned,” says Takura Zhangazha. “The new government has more of the old than the new in it.”

Zhangazha accuses the new partners in government of not doing enough to bring about a free society. “The MDC has not quite grasped the importance of freedom of expression because it has sought to acquire more compromises than absolute reforms which can make Zimbabwe an open society.”

He added that ordinary Zimbabweans are still being denied access to information and do not know what is happening in their country: “Ordinary people are receiving partisan information because state media is giving them falsehoods, while private media is being compromised by threats of arrest and in that vein they are forced to self-censor.”

The Harare-based political analyst Thabani Moyo says Zimbabwe needs to overhaul all the institutions that are being used to silence the people before attempting any real change: “There is need for institutional surgery because institutions such as the police, army and state media are the ones which are being used to censor public sentiment. These need to be sanitised so that reforms can take root.”

For Gift Phiri, a Zimbabwean journalist who in 2007 spent time behind bars for working for the Zimbabwean newspaper, it’s the same old story. “There has been no legislative reform since the inception of the new government. The same restrictive legal instruments are being used and censorship is a reality we continue to live with. I am forced to do selfcensorship because I am afraid of falling foul of the law.”

It has not all been negative, though. The government has lifted a ban on international media organisations such as the BBC, CNN, e.tv and the Guardian, among others. It has also partially dropped the requirement that journalists have to be accredited to work in the country. In addition, it is working on repealing the repressive Access to Information and Protection of Privacy Act and replacing it with two more media-friendly laws — the Freedom of Information Act and the Media Practitioners Act — although their content is not yet known. The government has also promised to re-open all closed newspapers and speed up the licensing of media organisations once the Zimbabwe media commission is put in place.

Stanley Kwenda is a freelance Zimbabwean journalist. He has worked for the weekly Financial Gazette newspaper and for Informante in Namibia and Deutsche Welle in Germany.

China censors president’s son corruption case

China’s Propaganda Department has ordered media and news websites to censor reports about a corruption case with links to President Hu Jintao’s son. Nuctech, a Chinese company that until 2007 was headed by Hu’s son Hu Haifeng, is alleged to have bribed a Namibian company in order to sell airport security scanners to Namibia.  Read more here

When does cultural sensitivity become a form of censorship?

Every year Reporters without Borders (RSF) issues its World Report — a league table of 173 countries in relation to freedom of press.

In the 2008 report RSF says:  “The post 9/11 world is clearly drawn. Destabilised and on the defensive, the leading democracies are gradually eroding the space for freedoms.”

This statement comes from the narrative that accompanies the table that last year places UK at tenth place coming equal with Hungary and Namibia.

On its website RSF also publishes a questionnaire, comprising 49 questions, that is used to find these results. This includes the all too easily quantifiable and gruesome data — how many journalists killed, how many imprisoned, tortured and so on. There is also a section on censorship.

I was interested in these questions, formulated to gauge the depth and degree of censorship of the press in any given country, and decided to adapt them to investigate the state of artistic freedom in the UK.

How many media outlets were censored, seized or ransacked with the state involved or had their operating licence withdrawn ?

Here I substitued the word media for cultural. In September 2007, police seized Thanksgiving, a photograph by Nan Goldin, from the Baltic Contemporary Art Gallery. Before the exhibition opened to the public, the gallery management, concerned that the photograph might appear pornographic, invited the police to view the image and to advise them on its suitability. The police removed it.

In October last year nude paintings by local artists were banned from Harrow Art Centre . Councillor Chris Mote, who has responsibility for the arts centre, backed the decision taken by his staff. He said: “I don’t want to take the risk of offending some groups. It may be artists feel I’m being unfair, but I’m not. I am trying to be fair and equal to everyone.”

A director of a public art gallery told me recently that as part of what he now sees to be due diligence, he invited the police in to have a look round the exhibition that had some sexually explicit material in it, just to make sure it was all OK. The policeman had nor problem with any of the artworks.

I should have asked: “What would you have done if the policeman said –– ‘I don’t like that one’?” Would the artistic director have had a long conversation with the policeman putting forward its artistic merits?

As for ransacking — I am not aware of the state ransacking any venues or galleries, they reserve these tactics for journalists, but there are cases when the state failed to effectively stop others ransacking. When in 2004, the Birmingham Repertory Theatre was attacked by angry protesters forcing the closure of the play Behzti by Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti, because it was offensive to their religious sensibilities, Fiona McTaggart, the then Home Office minister failed to condemn the intimidation and threats made against Bhatti’s life, saying “the free speech of the protesters is as important as the free speech of the artists.”

To some, it could be seen to be more important, given that the playright was forced into hiding, while no prosecutions were brought on public order offences against the rioters.

This is in contrast to 20 years ago when the Thatcher government supported, Salman Rushdie’s right to freedom of expression, and paid for costly police protection.

Was there an official prior censorship body systematically checking content ?

Until 1968,  the Lord Chancellor was personally responsible for giving a license to each play to be performed in this country. Since this practice was stopped, we have enjoyed a great deal of freedom in the theatre. But how are theatres faring now?

Is the theatre still the safe space for “saying the things that are unsayable elsewhere” –– as David Edgar says or do other considerations prevail?

At a recent conference of Arts Council England funded organisations, one panel raised the question –– “Is there conflict between freedom of artistic expression and sensitivity towards audiences?” The answer from those attending was clear –– that for the vast majority, the audience took precedence over the artist’s freedom of expression. There were a range of reasons for this, a lot to do with funders, especially where local governments were involved, but also the audience development that theatres have built up over the last three decades, where building trust with culturally diverse audiences could not be compromised.

Was news (let’s substitute the word book here) suppressed or delayed because of political or business pressure ?

Let’s look quickly at the example of the Jewel of Mdina, the Sherry Jones’ novel about Aisha, a wife of Mohammed. Tjhe book that was suppressed because of a very particular form of censorship — as Jo Glanville , editor of Index on Censorship called it “an extraordinary instance of pre-emptive censorship”.

“It was disingenuous of Random House to suggest that the novel might incite violence. Certain members of the population might choose to commit an act of violence, but that is not the same as the book itself inciting violence. To pass responsibility in the way to the novel, was a betrayal of the author and of free speech.”

So it was left to a much smaller publisher, Gibson Square, to stand up for the principles and come under attack, because the row that ensued, once the story broke, served to escalate the very scenario that Random House was apparently seeking to avert. And this was without the book having being read by more than a handful of people.

Does the media report the negative side of government policies

Here I subsitute the word media with culture. I wanted to try gauge to what extent artistic freedom is able to speak truth to power — to authority, a cornerstone of the function of art in society.

A wonderful example of the cartoonist’s power is Martin Rowson’s cartoon “Preparing for the Big Day” from the Guardian: a worker from the Hygiene Department is hosing piles of shit formed into the grimacing faces of Cheney and Bush off the US flag. Blair’s part in the 8 year Bush administration is reduced to an obstinate smear on the stars and stripes. This seems to give a pretty clear bill of health as far as portraying the smelly underbelly of government through the arts in this country. And the government seems able to take on the chin when it is contained by cultural parameters.

Staying with cartoons, we come straight up against the massively controversial issue of the Danish Cartoons, which reverberated strongly in this country; Jerry Springer the Opera, Behzti and of course Satanic Verses. How willing is this society to support dissenting voices from inside religious communities or challenges from secularists outside? In an attempt to protect religious sensibilities, a degree of complicity has arisen amongst the cultural community that has tacitly agreed to avoid causing offence, even though, as Kenan Malik has pointed out, this is almost impossible as well as undesirable “In a plural society it is inevitable and important to cause offence.”

Does the media undertake investigative journalism ?

And here the floodgates open, as this question triggers a whole string of related questions about the role and function of art. Are the arts to be a tool of enquiry, investigation? Are they challenging to the status quo? Are they holding open the space for debate and dialogue? Do the arts say things people don’t want to hear, but do want to talk about, or shout about, or protest about? Do they help to tell us about the world we live in? Is the imagination one of the most important investigative tools we have?

This is an edited speech by  Julia Farrington, Head of Arts and Events at Index on Censorship,  from a panel discussion at London Book Fair

Jail for comedian who dared to mock president

Hédi Ouled BaballahA Tunisian comic may have paid a high price for making fun of the country’s leader, writes Rohan Jayasekera

Index on Censorship is calling for the release of Tunisian comedian Hédi Ouled Baballah, who has been jailed on the basis of suspect evidence, apparently in punishment for mimicking the country’s president.

The trigger seems to have been a private recording (available here) of comedian Hédi Ouled Baballah’s satirical imitation of Tunisian president Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali that has spread across the country by mobile phone.

Index on Censorship, together with fellow members of the Tunisian Monitoring Group (TMG) of international free speech groups, believes that Ouled Baballah was targeted by police and framed for drugs and currency charges as punishment for the popular satire.

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