8 May 2018 | Campaigns -- Featured, Media Freedom, Statements
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Index on Censorship is pleased to hear the amendments to the Data Protection Bill are likely not going ahead. One of the amendments, which was not voted on, would have left many newspapers having to pay both sides’ costs in a legal dispute – even if the media outlet won. This amendment had serious consequences for a free press, a cornerstone of democracy[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]On Wednesday, the UK’s House of Commons will vote on the Data Protection Bill: a bill to regulate the way in which personal information is processed.
It is of course critical that we have robust protections over our personal data. Yet, as is so often the case with new laws, Index on Censorship believes we are in grave danger of ushering in one protection only to eliminate another: in this case, the protections afforded to and by a free press.
This is because members of both the House of Lords and Commons have sought to introduce amendments to this bill that would reintroduce into law restrictions on the press that the current government has rightly said it will not implement, namely forcing any publisher who refuses to sign up to a state-approved regulator to pay the legal costs of any data protection case brought against them, even if they win.
Such a measure would, in effect, invite anyone seeking to prevent exposure in the press – including those cases in which exposure, such as the Windrush scandal or MPs expenses, is in the public interest – to threaten legal action to silence a potential publisher. We urge MPs to reject these amendments.
In earlier proposed amendments, any organisation – including non-profit organisations like Index on Censorship – which refused to sign up to a state-approved regulator would have been liable to pay both sides’ costs. The latest amendments on the question of cost-shifting attempts to close that loophole by exempting small publishers but this just makes a mockery of the entire endeavour: either the rules apply to everyone or no one. The ability to hold power to account and expose the corrupt should not be left to one kind of media organisation.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/4″][vc_icon icon_fontawesome=”fa fa-times” color=”black” background_style=”rounded” size=”xl” align=”right”][/vc_column][vc_column width=”3/4″][vc_column_text]
Index does not believe any media organisation should be forced to sign up to a regulator – especially one that has state approval, no matter how arm’s length.
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Of course, there should be protections for those wronged by the press: but the threat of financial penalties on potential public interest journalism is not the way to do it. Far better is to encourage low-cost, easily accessible and swift redress for all.
Index does not believe any media organisation should be forced to sign up to a regulator – especially one that has state approval, no matter how arm’s length.
For the past five decades, we have monitored state interference in news reporting, from authoritarian Chile in the 1970s to North Korea today. With a history of scrutinising government pressure on media, we were never going to join Impress (currently the only state-approved regulator).
A free press is fundamental to democracy. Investigative and campaigning journalists have exposed scandals that have helped save lives: such as the work done by Index on Censorship’s patron, Sir Harold Evans, on the Thalidomide scandal while editor of the Sunday Times.
More recently, work by journalist Carole Cadwalladr at The Observer broke the Cambridge Analytica story wide open, while Amelia Gentleman’s reporting at The Guardian has driven the story on Windrush.
Without an environment in which such journalists are encouraged to report – without the fear that they might face costly court cases even for reporting stories that are true – who will hold the corrupt to account?
“It is easy to dismiss such concerns as the hysterical whinging of the mainstream media,” said Index on Censorship chief executive Jodie Ginsberg. “That would be a huge mistake. A genuinely free press – one in which both independent investigative journalist outfits and mainstream media organisations can operate – benefits everyone.”
We crush media freedom at our peril. The democratic gains being eroded in Turkey, Russia, Poland and Hungary and elsewhere have all been accompanied by a loss of press freedom: a freedom that is hard won but easily lost.
A version of this statement was first published on the Independent website.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”12″ style=”load-more” items_per_page=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1526037891828-b7251ca2-5483-4″ taxonomies=”6534″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
20 Mar 2018 | News, Russia
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This article by Sergey Smirnov, editor-in-chief of MediaZona, was originally published at openDemocracy Russia.
The poisoning of Sergey Skripal has led to a sharp deterioration in UK-Russia relations. For now, London’s official moves, such as deporting 23 Russian diplomats and searching planes inbound from Russia, look moderate. But Boris Johnson’s statement on 16 March was likely unexpected for Moscow. The British foreign minister came to the conclusion that Vladimir Putin sanctioned the attack on Skripal too quickly, though the Kremlin has, for now, merely commented that Johnson’s tone was “unacceptable”.
Immediately after the attack, the British parliament began discussing possible responses to Moscow. One of the first proposals was to stop the Russia Today TV channel, which is financed by the Russian government and is openly involved in propaganda, from broadcasting in the UK. And here it’s important to understand that British MPs have raised an important topic — one that’s painful not just for the Kremlin, but the whole of Russian society, including the opposition.
Banning the Russian propaganda channel in the UK will provoke a predictable reaction in Moscow. And London needs to understand beforehand what will happen (though the Kremlin hasn’t particularly hidden its intentions). First, Maria Zakharova, spokesperson for Russia’s Foreign Ministry, then Margarita Simonyan, head of RT, made it clear: all British media will be banned in response. This will concern first and foremost the BBC. It’s unclear what will happen to the work of other British media in Russia.
The Kremlin brought independent media in Russia under control long ago. If they managed to deal with television by the mid-2000s, then the internet didn’t really attract the attention of the Russian authorities for some time after. But in recent years the pressure has increased: independent media are often brought under control via oligarchs loyal to the Kremlin. For big internet publications, every year it gets harder to work. High-class independent journalists are fired if they choose not to betray their principles. Meanwhile, the authorities aren’t in a rush to pressure foreign media working in Russia.
Here, it’s important to explain the actions of the Russian authorities, which have been and will be demonised quite enough. The issue is that Vladimir Putin and his team don’t have — and have never had — a clearly worked-out programme to destroy democracy, including freedom of speech. As a rule, all their decisions are situative. Russian television was taken under control after Putin was sharply criticised by the oligarchs Boris Berezovsky and Vladimir Gusinsky. The Russian president likes to act in response to any threats.
Take the events of the past six years. In 2011, hundreds of thousands of people, dissatisfied with the prospect of Putin returning to power, came onto the streets of Russian cities. The protest was suppressed, but the Russian authorities were seriously worried. They set themselves the task of makingeverything dependent on them, in order to ensure these scenes would never be repeated. The authorities undertook various actions: from formally liberalising the political sphere to passing repressive laws at the very moment when people stopped protesting.
Once again, it’s important to understand that the Kremlin’s reaction was a response to street protest. Although these laws may have been prepared beforehand, it seems they were thought up on the spot. Take the “Foreign Agents” law as an example — this law banned NGOs which take foreign funds from being involved in “political activity”. As is often the case in Russia, this law didn’t only touch on the work of human rights organisations, but many others, from environmental NGOs to, most recently, a diabetes society.
Why did they pass this law? Because the authorities believed that the 2011-2012 protests were organised from abroad. The mass protest started after election observers found large-scale falsifications at the parliamentary elections. The Golos election monitoring association prepared the observers. Golos received foreign funding. This is how the Kremlin put it together.
A similar situation happened with the Kremlin’s response to Ukraine. Putin was sure that he was simply responding to attempts by the west to take Ukraine further from Moscow’s influence — and, at the same time, breaking Putin’s agreements with Viktor Yanukovych. The 2012 ban on adopting Russian children (the “Dima Yakovlev” law) was also perceived as a response to hostile actions from the west.
Here, I’m trying to explain the Kremlin’s logic, which becomes even clearer in the case of Russia Today in the US. After RT was registered under the Foreign Agent Registration Act in November last year, Moscow started feverishly searching for return measures. The initial suggestions were more reminiscent of North Korea, e.g. banning all independent media, including social networks and even the internet. But then the Kremlin softened its position. All US media, which receive state financing, were declared foreign agents. Other US media have yet to fall under this law’s purview.
For me, there’s two reasons for this. The first, as I wrote above, is that the Kremlin is convinced that it’s defending itself from attacks. It has to respond. The second is that Moscow still leaves itself room for manoeuvre and bargaining. If you ban everything at once, there’s nothing to discuss further — and the Kremlin doesn’t want to end up isolated like North Korea. But the risk of isolation has risen after the Skripal poisoning, and the Russian authorities see this. They won’t make any sudden moves on their own.
This is what western states need to understand about the Kremlin’s behaviour. Currently, there’s no signs that Putin will change his traditional tactics after re-election. The Russian authorities will still monitor the domestic opposition and the actions of the west (and will respond to them). The west needs to understand that the Kremlin’s reaction vis-a-vis freedom of speech and human rights depends on their reaction. Not least of all because the Russian authorities love appealing to the west’s double standards. All actions in connection with RT are seen as the west’s hypocrisy in the field of freedom of speech.
By banning Russian propaganda, the western world helps Putin in his fight against freedom of speech.
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19 Oct 2017 | Artistic Freedom, News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_video link=”https://vimeo.com/25048883″][vc_column_text]Index on Censorship CEO Jodie Ginsberg delivered Art and authoritarianism: a keynote speech to the Integrity 20 conference at Griffith University, Brisbane, Australia on Thursday 19 October 2017.
Good afternoon and thank you to Griffith University for inviting me to speak on this important topic of art and authoritarianism. The video you have just seen was created more than 30 years ago for the organisation I run, Index on Censorship, a global non-profit that publishes work by and about censored writers and artists and campaigns on their behalf.
It is work that was begun during the Cold War, at a time when Soviet dissidents were unable to publish work challenging the communist regime, when books like George Orwell’s 1984 were banned, and works like Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot outlawed. It was a time when the magazine that Index still produces 45 years later had to be smuggled into eastern Europe, where clandestine literature was swapped for goods unobtainable in the communist east — including bananas.
These days we don’t send people out armed with bananas in exchange for banned texts, but the fact that Index is still in business more than 25 years after the end of the Cold War is a sad reflection that censorship remains alive and well across the world.
If anything, we are seeing its rise: democratic spaces are shrinking and authoritarianism creeping back in places where we thought we had seen its end.
This afternoon’s talk will give a brief overview — that I hope will give a provide a context for our subsequent discussion — of the ways in which authoritarian regimes seek to stifle the arts, or use arts for their own ends, and the ways in which artists fight back.
But first I want to reflect on why the arts are important? Often in public discourse, the arts are considered an ‘add on’, a ‘frippery’, nice to have — but non essential to our basic existence. But I would contend that artistic expression is what defines us as human beings. That the ability to make music, to sing, to dance, to paint, to write, to talk — is fundamental to our humanity. And it is therefore fundamental that we protect it.
The fact that artistic expression plays such a powerful and important role in our existence is perhaps best seen in the seemingly disproportionate amount of time authoritarian regimes spend targeting it. If the spoken or written word, if performance, if the image were not important, if they did not have power, then dictators wouldn’t spend half so much time worrying about them.
Indeed, artists are often the canaries in the mine, a leading barometer of freedom in a country: poorly funded, rarely unionised, but with the ability to powerfully capture uncomfortable truths, artists are easy to target.
In a classic authoritarian regime, artists are most easily targeted by banning works or types of works and by arresting those groups and individuals who step out of line.
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Ultimately, censorship doesn’t work. And that’s because of the very nature of artistic expression itself: that the more ways the censors try to find to shut down the ideas, the beliefs they don’t like, the more artists find creative ways to express those same ideas.
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Moroccan musician Mouad Belaghouat, known as El Haqed, was arrested in 2011 and spent two years in prison for criticising the king. A former winner of the Index on Censorship Freedom of Expression Award for arts, El Haqed’s work highlights corruption and widespread poverty in the country.
Frequently, though, authoritarian regimes censor those artists who fall out of favour not through a direct link to their work but by indirect means. Arresting them, for example, on another pretext such as financial irregularities.
Think of Chinese artist Ai Wei Wei, arrested in 2011 while officials investigated allegations of “economic crimes”. Ai Wei Wei was then hit with a demand for nearly $2 million in alleged unpaid taxes and fines.
Three years later Ai Wei Wei’s work ‘Sunflower Seeds” was cut from an exhibition in honoring the 15th anniversary of the Chinese Contemporary Art Award of which he was a founding, three-time jurist. Museum also workers erased Ai’s name from the list of the award’s past winners and jury members. Erasure: censorship in action.
Explicit censorship like this continues to exist in many countries, with many still operating censorship boards to assess films, books and plays for cutting or banning. In Lebanon, for example, a censorship bureau still exists to which playwrights and others must submit works for approval before they can be shown. In 2013, writer Lucien Bourjeily decided to try to play the censors at their own game and submitted a play called ‘Will it Pass or Not’ that aimed to highlight the arbitrary nature of decisions taken by the bureau. Unsurprisingly, the play was banned. The censorship board’s General Mounir Akiki appeared on television to explain the ban, presenting evidence from four so-called “critics” who insisted the play had no artistic merit and therefore would not be passed. Index published an extract from the play a few months later.
At the time, Bourjeily wrote about the challenges of writing when “the censorship law in Lebanon is so vague and elusive”. Much successful censorship by authoritarian regimes relies not so much on what is explicitly banned but rather on an uncertainty as to what is permitted and what not. In such an environment, self-censorship thrives.
It is just such an environment that artists identify in contemporary Russia where laws — including those on obscenity and offence to religious feeling — are applied erratically, and where funding might be stopped — apparently arbitrarily — if an organisation fails to step in line with a current emphasis on family and religious values.
In this unpredictable environment, artists must think twice before braving the system. If you don’t know where the lines are, how do you know when you have crossed them? In this case, artists might choose to do nothing at all rather than breach an unstated limit.
The 2013 Russian law criminalising acts offending religious believers reflects a broader creep globally in which artists are punished by governments – or by non-state actors including the likes of ISIS – for offence. Bangladesh has seen a series of fatal attacks against writers, publishers and bloggers, many of whom have been targeted for their atheist views.
A failure by the government to get justice for these killings – or even publicly condemn them – is encouraging a state of impunity that encourages further attacks.
In fact, the Bangladesh government has actually placed the onus on writers to avoid writing anything “objectionable” about religion. Writers have been charged under a wide-ranging law used to prosecute anyone who publishes anything on or offline that hurts “religious sentiment” or prejudices the “image of the state.” Last year, during the country’s largest book fair writer Shamsuzzoha Manik was arrested for publishing a book called Islam Bitorko (Debate on Islam).
It is not just insulting religious sentiment that is increasingly problematic in the Muslim world. In countries like Poland, which is also experiencing its own form of creeping authoritarianism in common with many of its neighbours, the Catholic church is resuming an old role as censor in chief. State prosecutors there this year investigated the producers of a play that examines the relationship between the Polish Catholic church and the state, and castigates authorities for failing to respond to allegations of child abuse. In the play’s most notorious scene, an actor simulates oral sex on a plastic statue of the late Polish pope John Paul II, as a sign reads: “Defender of paedophiles”.
What starts as censorship of the arts quickly bleeds into other areas, like education.
In Bangladesh for example, the law I described earlier has been invoked against those who have questioned facts about the 1971 war.
Rewriting history is something authoritarian regimes are rather good at.
Earlier this year index published a story by award-winning author Jonathan Tel about an actor in a time travel TV show who gets stuck in 19th century Beijing after the government axes the genre. It’s a fictional take on true life: in 2011 the Chinese-government did ban all time-travel themed television.
The genre had become extremely popular and therefore hard to control, generating multiple narratives about the past. That posed a challenge for a Chinese Communist Party who only want a singular narrative, the one they control, that China was a country of corrupt feudal overlords and emperors until saved by the party in 1949.
When the ban came into place the administration said it was because the genre ‘disrespects history’.
This impulse to control the narrative is what drives propaganda. Traditionally, authoritarian regimes have found propaganda easiest to achieve simply by shutting down media outlets to limit the flows of information to a limited number of channels controlled by the government: a single newspaper, a government-controlled broadcaster and so on. With art, this is more challenging, and so the art produced by governments for propaganda often finds its expression in a cult of personality linked to a dictator — think of the Stalin statues that mushroomed during his time in office. In North Korea, the government commissions large scale art works depicting the people at work.
Art as defender — and threat to — the national image is inextricably linked, especially in modern regimes, with threats to national security. We see this clearly in countries like Turkey, a democracy that has rapidly slid back into authoritarianism over the past 18 months without passing ‘Go’. Authors, performers, artists have all found themselves at the sharp end of President Erdogan’s ire, and accused of terrorism simply for offering a critique of his government. Erdogan, in common with many dictators, appears to hate more than anything being laughed at and so cartoonists and satirists have found themselves targeted. Cartoonist Musa Kart was imprisoned for nearly 10 months and faces nearly 30 years in jail for his satirical cartoons of the President and his government. In Malaysia, cartoonist Zunar faces up to 43 years in jail for his cartoons lampooning the prime minister and his wife.
I talked at the start about a resurgence of authoritarianism. In conclusion, I want to talk about a feature of censorship that I think is remarkable and which, perhaps, dictators might like to reflect on. That, ultimately, censorship doesn’t work. And that’s because of the very nature of artistic expression itself: that the more ways the censors try to find to shut down the ideas, the beliefs they don’t like, the more artists find creative ways to express those same ideas. Burkina Faso artist Smockey, an outspoken critic of the government whose studios have been firebombed twice because of his work, continues to make music and describes it as the duty of the artists to resist. Yemeni graffiti artist Murad Subay paints public murals that highlight the atrocities being inflicted on his people – and encourages others, ordinary citizens, to join him. Others are more covert: the musicians who meet underground, or the filmmakers who use allegory and metaphor to flout literalist censors.
And perhaps that should give us cause for optimism — at the very least, optimism about the human spirit and its ability to challenge the greatest tyrants through the pen or the paintbrush. To quote Harry Lime in the wonderful film The Third Man: “Don’t be so gloomy. After all it’s not that awful. Like the fella says, in Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love – they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.”[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Don’t lose your voice. Stay informed.” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”black”][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][vc_column_text]Index on Censorship is a nonprofit that campaigns for and defends free expression worldwide. We publish work by censored writers and artists, promote debate, and monitor threats to free speech. We believe that everyone should be free to express themselves without fear of harm or persecution – no matter what their views.
Join our mailing list (or follow us on Twitter or Facebook) and we’ll send you our weekly newsletter about our activities defending free speech. We won’t share your personal information with anyone outside Index.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][gravityform id=”20″ title=”false” description=”false” ajax=”false”][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][/vc_column][/vc_row]
