7 Nov 2012 | Uncategorized
There are clearly parallels between investigative journalists and artists who reveal uncomfortable truths. But when controversy breaks, artists are much more exposed because they use their own personal language to tell the story, and bring their own experience and imagination into the narrative.
To cater for their needs, Artsfex, the first international civil society network dedicated to promoting free expression for artists, has recently been created.
“When the international community places emphasis on the protection of freedom of speech, it generally focuses on the freedom of media and literature,” says Ole Reitov, Programme Manager at Freemuse and one of Artsfex’s promoters.
International human rights organisations include repression of media and media professionals in their annual and country reports on freedom of expression. However, they rarely document repression of artists or cultural workers.
Reitov adds:
But artistic expression is under pressure from many sides and it is frequently in the centre of conflicts between different interest groups. This is where Artsfex comes in. We hope to be able to not only document violations but support artists at risk.
Artsfex has been designed to join up pockets of campaigning that are often ignited in the wake of controversy, to amplify, reinforce and add weight to the artists’ voice when they stand up to authorities. It aims to facilitate exchange between artists and address that sense of isolation, by bringing people who have been through the fire together with those that are in the thick of it.
The network, which will recruit campaigning organisations and artists networks from around the world, aims to form an executive body that will call governments to account. Index on Censorship is part of this network, which connects, according to Reitov, “a bit over 1,200 organisations all over the world”.
“We have the ambition to analyse the mechanisms and effects of arts censorship,” says Reitov. “Several Artsfex members will take part in a UN meeting on artistic freedom in Geneva in December this year. The UN Special Rapporteur on culture (Farida Shaheed) has decided to make a report on artistic freedom, and all UN member states are now receiving a questionnaire on how they regulate the arts and protect artistic freedom. Our hope is that in the future Artsfex will help keeping governments accountable to their treatment of artists.”
The launch of Artsfex took place against the backdrop All that is banned is desired — the first ever international conference on artistic freedom of expression in Oslo last month.
The conference organisers, Freemuse and Fritt Ord, had decided to turn the platform over exclusively to the stories of practicing artists who had experienced censorship. Over two days, 25 artists from Burma, North Korea, Egypt, Cuba, Russia, Zimbabwe, South Africa, Palestine, Syria, Tunisia, China, Turkey, Tibet and Mali gave their accounts or performed.
Each story told how a play, an album, a painting, an installation, an image or an idea had unleashed extraordinary levels of violence, hostility, threats, and prejudice towards the artist. The aggressors took all forms from corporate community, government or religious groups. Each artist’s decision not to capitulate, to stand up for their right to express themselves brought them into situations of extreme personal danger and harm, risking their life and health, liberty, career, family and community relations.
A man is in solitary confinement, in a tiny, windowless cell. By straining through the bars of his cell, he can just see the edges of moonlight. He paces restlessly and in a moment of inspiration, takes the plastic bowl — the only concession to comfort in his cell — places it carefully just outside the bars and pees into it. As the pee settles, the ripples and bubbles subside, the reflected image of the full moon comes into sharp focus. The prisoner smiles at the moon.
This is the synopsis one of the short films shown at the opening presentation of the conference. The film was made by Burmese comedian, film maker and activist Zarganar, who, with fellow film-maker Min Htin Ko Ko Gyi, told of the power of art and the imagination to withstand brutal treatment by the military junta in Burma.
Bringing these artists together for the first time was an achievement, the result of four years of research and planning. The shared ground between them gave rise to countless connections, forging plans and future collaborations. Four of the participating artists will join an artist roundtable discussion Index has organised in the lead up to our Taking the Offensive conference in London on 29 January 2013 at the Southbank Centre, to defend artistic freedom of expression.
In nearly all cases the artists acknowledged a deep sense of isolation while the media storms, community conflicts and lawsuits raged around and because of them. Despite the support from family, friends, other artists, the theatre or the gallery and in some cases the general public, each artist had to find an extraordinary level of personal courage that was needed to keep going day after day, to stand by the integrity and importance of what they wanted to say.
“Freemuse has already documented more than hundred incidents of arts censorship in the past six months…. My feeling is that this is unfortunately only the tip of the iceberg,” concludes Reitov.
Julia Farrington is Head of Arts at Index on Censorship
1 Aug 2012 | Magazine, News
Gore Vidal, who died this week, was often scathing in his attacks on US foreign policy. In April 2002, Index on Censorship magazine was the first English-language publication to feature this essay, written after 9/11
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10 Jul 2012 | Leveson Inquiry, Media Freedom, United Kingdom

This post originally appeared on the Independent Blogs
As the often theatrical spectacle of the Leveson hearings — with its mix of posturing, jousting, inquisition and exposé — draws to a close, the big question is what Leveson will recommend this autumn. Will we see proposals that defend press freedom and promote high professional standards, or do we risk facing proposals that limit press freedom and serious investigative journalism?
Given the range of unethical and illegal behaviour exposed in the phone-hacking scandal, and the tawdry tales of political-media cronyism under the spotlight at the Inquiry, there may be a risk that Lord Justice Leveson will prioritise standards and regulation over our sometimes riotous press freedom.
Calling for independent, self-regulation in the face of the excesses of some in News International and elsewhere cuts little ice with many. But it is worth recalling the most basic elements of our democracy that underpin the need to keep the state well out of our press. Our universal and fundamental right to free speech, to hold opinions, share information (across borders and different types of media), and express views is enshrined in international charters and laws for good reason, not least given governments’ proclivity to interfere in that right.
The governments that most go in for controlling the press, bugging their own citizens, snooping on the net, or criminalising speech tend to be the authoritarian or totalitarian ones, whether we are thinking China, Azerbaijan, Iran or North Korea. But intrusions into press freedom in Italy and Hungary show the problem is closer to home and within democracies too. Without a free press — both online and off — we would lose a big element of our free speech, our ability to hold government and other power-holders (including big business) to account, to investigate wrongdoing, lies, and other cock-ups and conspiracies.
So higher press standards cannot come from statutory government control or regulation. But if the excesses of phone-hacking, and over-close cronyism between some in the media, police and politics, are to be tackled, then we need a new deal. That must include a new self-regulatory body with greater teeth to tackle unwarranted invasions of privacy, false allegations and unethical behaviour. It must be a body that can set and monitor standards. And one that can offer rapid, effective and fair resolution of complaints — including a quick, fair voluntary mediation service as an alternative to lengthy, expensive court cases.
One solution propounded by some given the inadequacies of our current set-up is that press outsiders and retired editors should run the new body. But a press regulator that does not include current senior representatives of the press — not least at a time of rapid change in the technology and business model — will not get buy-in. Nor do we need to reinvent the wheel. Where appropriate laws exist we don’t need to give those powers to a statutory regulator: current laws can tackle most unwarranted invasions of privacy and can deal with bribery of public officials.
One big challenge for a new self-regulating body — and for Leveson in his report — will be how to balance the right to privacy with the need for serious journalism in the public interest. Journalists need to know that if they are digging deep into questions of misleading or false statements by politicians, or investigating public health or security risks, or tracking potentially criminal behaviour, that they have a public interest defence. At the moment, some UK laws allow such a defence, others don’t. Journalists are operating in an ad hoc and unclear legal framework that can lead them to draw their horns in and shift towards self-censorship.
And last but not least, while the tales of texts, lunches and cosy chats between some leading media figures, politicians and police may encourage an ever downward trend in trust for these groups, regulating such contacts, beyond existing law, is not the way to go either. Whether it’s the whistle-blower, or just a good source in a government department tipping a journalist off in the right direction, serious probing journalism depends on informal interaction with politicians and officials.
Some of our senior figures have shown they have little idea of where to draw the line in such relationships, so clear professional standards need setting out. But the state will over-regulate given a chance. Voluntary and professional standards combined with good corporate governance remain the only route to go if we still credit press freedom and democracy as inextricable. That is the challenge for Leveson.
Kirsty Hughes is Index on Censorship’s Chief Executive.
Index is co-hosting a panel discussion, What will Lord Justice Leveson conclude about the future of the British press? at the Frontline Club on 19 July. Details and tickets are available here.
6 Jul 2012 | Europe and Central Asia
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]“I will be arrested the minute I land in Uzbekistan and then thrown in prison,” an Uzbek human rights activist tells me, “and what happens with me afterwards is a good question.”
For his family’s safety, I cannot tell you the name of the young man. Let’s call him Rustam, a common name in Uzbekistan.
“I only have five minutes, then they cut off the phone,” the 26-year old explains.
Since 12 June he has been held at the immigration services detention centre in Oslo, Norway, after having received the third and final rejection of his appeal for political asylum. He will be deported on 12 July.
Looking at his case it is obvious that the Norwegian authorities are ignoring evidence showing that returning Rustam to Uzbekistan is as good as sentencing him to torture, even death. They have also disregarded UN evidence that says returned Uzbek dissidents who sought refugee status abroad have been disappeared and subjected to torture.
It is easy to detect the fear in Rustam’s voice. In 2004, he and some friends started an NGO called Movement for Freedom and initiated a campaign against child slave labour. Every year, two million Uzbek school children — the youngest just 7 years old — are forced to spend six to eight weeks picking cotton, eight to 10 hours a day.
Uzbekistan has been heavily criticised for this abuse of children. But the income from cotton exports runs into hundreds of millions of dollars, and much of it falls into the pockets of the Uzbek dictator Islam Karimov, who has been in power for 23 years since Soviet times.
When Rustam and his friends started their campaign against child slavery, he was detained and tortured. Upon his release, Rustam fled to Russia. While he was in hiding, he heard that one of the Movement’s co-founders had been killed in an Uzbek prison. He decided to move on to Norway.
I understood how dangerous it would be for me if I returned or was extradited…I too could very easily be killed.
Russia, a close ally of the Karimov regime, routinely extradites Uzbeks. Afterwards many of them ‘disappear’.
The authorities in Norway have two problems with Rustam’s plea for asylum:
1/ Rustam does not have a passport. Rustam says he threw it away when he smuggled himself out of Uzbekistan to ensure he could not be identified by the police if he was apprehended. But it means outside Uzbekistan Rustam now cannot prove that he is who he claims to be.
2/ While Rustam was in Norway hoping to be granted asylum, he started working as a volunteer for the Uzbek human rights defender Mutabar Tadjibaeva. This is now the heart of Rustam’s appeal: the Norwegian authorities do not believe that he worked as her webmaster.
Because of her international standing, Tadjibaeva is hated by the Karimov regime; working with her would land Rustam in very serious trouble in Uzbekistan.
Tadjibaeva has been living in exile in France since in 2008 escaping after three years of prison, rape and torture in Uzbekistan. The country has more than 10,000 political and religious prisoners and experts put it amongst the harshest dictatorships in the world, on par with North Korea.
Tadjibaeva runs the website Jayaron, one of very few independent sources of information about Uzbekistan, a country in which media are strictly controlled by the regime. She has established a widespread network of informants inside the country who send her details about corrupt court cases, unfair imprisonments and cases of torture. Her site is a thorn in the side of a regime that has almost managed to completely isolate its population from the outside world.
The Karimov regime call Tadjibaeva an “extremist” and accuse her of planning to overthrow the government, which is rather difficult to imagine when you meet her in person — a small, soft-spoken 49-year-old woman, her health scarred by years of torture and prison.
In 2008 the US State Department gave Tadjibaeva the prestigious Woman of Courage award. After Tadjibaeva received it, a Wikileaks telegram revealed that the American ambassador in Tashkent received a “tongue lashing” from the Uzbek dictator, who threatened to block US transit to Afghanistan in retaliation.
The ambassador advised his government to tone down the criticism of the Uzbek regime, advice they took. And relations are nearer to the close relationship the countries enjoyed before Karimov’s army killed 800 demonstrators, many of them women and children, in May 2005.
Mutabar Tadjibaeva stresses to me that Rustam has worked with her since August 2010. She cannot understand why the Norwegian immigration authorities rejected Rustam’s asylum plea, stressing that they do not believe that he and Mutabar work together.
We have worked closely together, you can even find his name on our website. Because of this, his life would be in great danger if he were returned to Uzbekistan.
“The Uzbek regime does not like people telling the truth,” she adds. “I have no less than 343 emails here in which we discuss Rustam’s work with our website and my blog,” she tells me, “that obviously prove that we worked closely together.”
“If the Norwegians really wanted to know the truth, all they have to do is check his computer, mobile phone and emails.” She showed me the email and text communication between the two.
“I have even transferred money to him in Norway, so he could buy a computer and work on our website,” Mutabar explains. She shows me receipts.
If he is sent back to Uzbekistan, a long time in prison and severe torture awaits him. There is a real risk that the regime will kill him, as a warning to others to stay away from human rights work.
At the moment it looks like that Rustam will be deported to Uzbekistan within the next week.
But in June something happened which Mutabar hopes will help Rustam. The UN Committee against Torture censured Kazakhstan — Uzbekistan’s neighbour — for deporting 29 Uzbek asylum seekers in 2010. Several of the 29 were later given lengthy prison sentences, kept in isolation and therefore, say analysts, most likely tortured.
UN conventions forbid states deporting people to their home countries if there is a risk that they will be tortured.
Exact numbers are impossible to come by — this is Uzbekistan — but according to local human rights organisations dozens of people are tortured to death each year in Uzbek prisons, and the favourite victims of the security police are those who have been in the West asking for asylum or even speaking poorly about the regime. This description clearly applies to Rustam.
Mutabar Tadjibaeva hopes that the UN decision will make Norway re-consider his case. “But,” she adds, “so-called democratic countries in Europe have often shown themselves full-willing to close their eyes to the atrocities of the Uzbek regime. I have lost all faith in them.”
Michael Andersen is a Danish journalist who has covered Central Asia for more than 10 years. His newest feature-length documentary on Uzbekistan is called Massacre in Uzbekistan.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]