12 Aug 2013 | News and features
Writer and broadcaster Kenan Malik and art historian and educator Nada Shabout on one of the art world’s most contentious debates
Mark Boardman/www.mark-boardman.com
Dear Nada,
I regard free speech as a fundamental good, the fullest extension of which is necessary for democratic life and for the development of other liberties. Others view speech as a luxury rather than as a necessity, or at least as merely one right among others, and not a particularly important one. Speech from this perspective needs to be restrained not as an exception but as the norm.
The answer to whether religious and cultural sensibilities should ever limit free expression depends upon which of these ways we think of free speech. For those, like me, who look upon free speech as a fundamental good, no degree of cultural or religious discomfort can be reason for censorship. There is no free speech without the ability to offendreligious and cultural sensibilities.
For those for whom free speech is more a luxury than a necessity, censorship is a vital tool in maintaining social peace and order. Perhaps the key argument made in defence of the idea of censorship to protect cultural and religious sensibilities is that speech must necessarily be less free in a plural society. In such a society, so the argument runs, we need to police public discourse about different cultures and beliefs both to minimise friction and to protect the dignity of individuals, particularly from minority communities. As the sociologist Tariq Modood has put it, “if people are to occupy the same political space without conflict, they mutually have to limit the extent to which they subject each others’ fundamental beliefs to criticism”.
I take the opposite view. It is precisely because we do live in a plural society that we need the fullest extension possible of free speech. In such societies it is both inevitable and important that people offend the sensibilities of others. Inevitable, because where different beliefs are deeply held, clashes are unavoidable. And they should be openly resolved, rather than suppressed in the name of “respect” or “tolerance”.
But more than this: the giving of offence is not just inevitable, but also important. Any kind of social change or social progress means offending some deeply-held sensibilities. Or to put it another way: “You can’t say that!” is all too often the response of those in power to having their power challenged. The notion that it is wrong to offend cultural or religious sensibilities suggests that certain beliefs are so important that they should be put beyond the possibility of being insulted or caricatured or even questioned. The importance of the principle of free speech is precisely that it provides a permanent challenge to the idea that some questions are beyond contention, and hence acts as a permanent challenge to authority. The right to “subject each others’ fundamental beliefs to criticism” is the bedrock of an open, diverse society, and the basis of promoting justice and liberties in such societies. Once we give up such a right we constrain our ability to challenge those in power, and therefore to challenge injustice.
The question we should ask ourselves, therefore, is not “should religious and cultural sensibilities ever limit free expression?” It is, rather, “should we ever allow religious and cultural sensibilities to limit our ability to challenge power and authority?”
Best wishes,
Kenan
Mark Boardman/www.mark-boardman.com
Dear Kenan,
I too regard free speech as a fundamental good and as necessary. On the surface, thus, the simple and direct answer to the question of whether religious and cultural sensibilities should ever limit free expression should be an unequivocal NO! However, the reality is that the question itself is problematic. While free expression, and let’s think of art in this specific case, will always push the limits and “reveal the hidden”, consideration and sensitivity, including religious and cultural sensibility, should not be inherently in opposition. By positioning it as such, the answer can only be reactive. I thus disagree with your argument.
A quick note on “censorship”. Yes, we all hate the word and find it very offensive. It is a word loaded with oppression, but the reality is that censorship in some form exists in every facet of life, personal and public. It is not that one needs to restrict speech in a plural society but that this plurality needs to find a peaceful way of co-existing with respect and acceptance, as much as possible — not tolerance; I personally abhor the word tolerance and find that it generally masks hatred and disdain. No belief is above criticism and nothing should limit our ability to challenge power and authority.
I suppose one needs to decide first the point of this criticism/free expression. Does it have a specific message or reason, and how best to deliver it — or is it simply someone’s personal free expression in the absolute? And if it is someone’s right to free expression, then why is it privileged above someone else’s right — religious and cultural sensibility being someone’s right to expression as well?
For example, and I will use art again, there is a problem when art/the artist is privileged as “genius”, with rights above other citizens — except not really, since the artist is subject to other limitations that may not be religious or cultural, like those of the tradition of expression, funding, law and so on. This is not to say that a religion should dictate expression. We should remember, though, that the marvel of what we call Islamic art was achieved within full respect of Islamic religious sensibilities, but also pushed the limits and critiqued simplicity in interpreting these sensibilities.
Perhaps my view here is less idealistic and more practical, but I see many unnecessary attacks on all sides that do not accomplish anything other than insult and inflame. All I’m saying is that expression is always achieved through negotiations, including limitations.
All the best,
Nada
Dear Nada,
I’m afraid that I was no clearer at the end of your letter than I was at the beginning about your actual stance on free speech. You say you ‘regard free speech as a fundamental good’ and that the answer to “whether religious and cultural sensibilities should ever limit free expression should be an unequivocal NO!” You then, however, go on seemingly to qualify that unequivocal stance but without actually specifying what it is that you wish to qualify. Where should the line be drawn when it comes to the issue of what is and is not legitimate free speech? Who should draw that line? And on what basis? These are the critical questions that need answering. You write: “It is not that one needs to restrict speech in a plural society but that this plurality needs to find a peaceful way of co-existing with respect and acceptance”. It’s a wonderful sentiment, but what does it actually mean in practice? Should Salman Rushdie not have written The Satanic Verses so that he could find “a peaceful way of coexisting with respect and acceptance”? Was the Birmingham Rep right to drop Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s play Behzti after protests from Sikhs? Should Jerry Springer: The Opera ever have been staged (or broadcast)?
You suggest that “one needs to decide first the point of this criticism/free expression. Does it have a specific message or reason, and how best to deliver it — or is it simply someone’s personal free expression in the absolute?” Again, I am unclear as to the point you’re making here. Are you suggesting here that speech is only legitimate if it has “a specific message or reason”? If so,who decides whether it does? During the controversy over The Satanic Verses, the philosopher Shabbir Akhtar distinguished between “sound historical criticism” and “scurrilously imaginative writing”, and insisted that Rushdie’s novel fell on the wrong side of the line. Do you agree with him? If not, why not? You ask: “If it is someone’s right to free expression, then why is it privileged above someone else’s right — religious and cultural sensibility being someone’s right to expression as well?” This seems to me a meaningless question. A “sensibility” is not a “right”, still less a “right to expression”. If your point is that all people, whatever their religious or cultural beliefs, should have the right to express those beliefs, then I agree with you. That is the core of my argument. What they do not have is the “right” to prevent anybody expressing their views because those views might offend their “sensibilities”.
A final point: to defend the right of X to speak as he or she wishes is not the same as defending the wisdom of X using speech in a particular fashion, still less the same as defending the content of his or her speech. Take, for instance, The Innocence of Muslims, the risibly crude and bigoted anti-Muslim video that provoked so much controversy and violence last year. I would defend the right of such a film to be made. But I would also question the wisdom of making it, and would strongly challenge the sentiments expressed in it. There is a distinction to be drawn, in other words, between the right to something and the wisdom of exercising that right in particular ways. It is a distinction that critics of free speech too often fail to understand.
Best,
Kenan
Dear Kenan,
Nicely said! I believe we are ultimately saying the same thing. It is that “distinction” that you outline in your last paragraph that I call a negotiation between all sides, cultures, etc. My answer is not clear because the issue is not simple! I am saying that it is not a black and white binary divide nor can one “draw a line”. And yes, “who should draw that line? and on what basis?” is critical and essential. I believe that should be reached through negotiation. The “wisdom” of something to exist is as important as its right to exist. But there is also the question of responsibility. Free speech cannot be “inherently good” or bad. The person who utters that speech must claim responsibility for its use and effects. The examples you cite above are not all equal. Yes, they all have the right to exist. But let’s think a bit about the Danish cartoons about the Prophet Mohammed as another example. Were they not an attack aimed to inflame Muslim communities? Was it not part of Islamophobia?
Was the aim not to ridicule and play off people’s fears and prejudices? How were they a critique of Islam? What was the point? It is not that “it is morally unacceptable to cause offence to other cultures” as you once said, but the how and why are just as important as the right to cause that offence. I agree with you that the fear of consequences has become a limitation, but that isperhaps because free speech has been abused.
Perhaps I am looking at this from a different point of view. As an educator, I often face the situation, equally here in the US and in the Middle East, of how to argue a point that has become of specific cultural/religious/political sensitivity to my students. If I offend them here, they will stop listening; in the Middle East, I will not be allowed to continue. What would I gain by doing that? By negotiation I test the limits and push gently. At least in academia, I think we are at a point where we have to teach our students to not get offended by an opposing opinion and to be able to accept various opinions and to be able to accept criticism. I don’t think I can achieve that through shock alone!
Best, Nada
Dear Nada
You write that your “answer is not clear because the issue is not simple”. Perhaps. But surely, if the answer is not simple, that only places a greater imperative to make one’s answers as clear as possible?
You believe that we are “ultimately saying the same thing”. I am not so sure that we are. So, let us try to work out where we do agree and where we don’t.
There are two questions we are debating. The first is about the legal limits to free speech. My view is that the law should not in any way protect cultural or religious sensibilities. All speech should be legal except where it directly incites violence. I assume that is your position, though you have never actually stated it as such. Do we agree on that?
The second question is about how we can define speech that is legally acceptable but morally distasteful. You say that where we draw the moral line “should be reached through negotiation”. But negotiation with whom? And on what basis?
You raise a series of questions about the Danish cartoons, and imply that the cartoons were not legitimate speech but created merely to provoke, and hence should not have been published. You don’t, however, actually say that. So, to clarify, is that your view?
Exactly the same questions were, as I pointed out in an earlier letter, asked about The Satanic Verses, and many came to the same conclusions about Rushdie’s novel: that it was Islamophobic, designed to provoke and inflame Muslim communities, that it ridiculed Islam and played off people’s fears, and so on. The philosopher Shabbir Akhtar described it as an “inferior piece of hate literature”. The liberal Ziauddin Sardar wrote that reading the novel felt like being “raped”. The novelist Rana Kabani insisted that it played upon ancient Islamophobic stereotypes.
In the case of both The Satanic Verses and the Danish cartoons, the majority of Muslims, certainly initially, stayed indifferent to the issue. A vocal minority transformed both into global controversies. So, what does “negotiation” mean in this context? Muslim objection to The Satanic Verses was as deep and as broad as that to the Danish cartoons. Yet, you seem to think that it was right to publish the novel but not the cartoons. Why? And please don’t say “My answer can’t be clear because the issue is not simple”.
In any case, the questions that you raise — Is it Islamophobic? Is the aim merely to ridicule? etc — are different from the question that we are actually addressing: “Should religious or cultural sensibilities ever limit free speech?”. There is, in my view, a moral imperative on free speech advocates to challenge racist and other bigoted speech. I certainly do not that think that about speech that offends cultural or religious sensibilities. On the contrary, the moral imperative is often to transgress such boundaries. It is the conflation of racism and bigotry, on the one hand, and of cultural and religious sensibilities, on the other, that is the problem. Opponents of free speech often conflate these two issues in an attempt to establish a spurious legitimacy for their arguments against the giving of offence.
Best wishes,
Kenan
Kenan Malik is a writer and broadcaster. His latest book is From Fatwa to Jihad: The Rushdie Affair and its Legacy (Atlantic Books)
Nada Shabout is associate professor of art education and art history at the University of North Texas and director of the Contemporary Arab and Muslim Cultural Studies Institute
25 Jul 2013 | Turkey, Turkey Uncensored, Volume 42.02 Summer 2013
Journalist Yavuz Baydar has been fired by Turkish daily newspaper Sabah, after articles he wrote criticising the government were censored
In the latest report, Freedom in the World 2013, Freedom House defines Turkey as ‘partly free’.
Authorities in Ankara – both the government and bureaucrats – refute these claims, although the Ministry of Justice openly admits that there are serious shortcomings when it comes to providing for freedom of expression, both in law and implementation.
Some international organisations, such as the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) and the European Federation of Journalists (EFJ), meanwhile, help build the myth that Turkey tops the world rankings for one of the worst ‘oppressive’ states because of the number of jailed journalists there. The Committee to Protect Journalists reports that there are 49 journalists in prison, while Reporters Sans Frontières put the number at 72, if the number of people includes all jailed media professionals. But claims that the country is entirely free or grossly oppressive are both wrong. These extreme views must be taken with a pinch of salt; the truth is somewhere in between.
The complexities of Turkey today make it a unique case, demanding careful examination so that clichés can be dispersed, particularly those deriving from the perception that the country remains a police state, as it was prior to the late 1990s.
Turkey today is exactly as Freedom House says it is: not ‘free’, nor ‘not free’, but ‘partly free’.
In this context, Turkey’s problems are already out in the open.
Thousands of Kurdish activists connected to the Koma Civakên Kurdistan network – affiliated with the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) – as well as around 200 students and 72 other journalists and activists (mainly Kurdish) are in detention.
According to the monitoring site engelliweb.com, internet access is blocked to approximately 9000 websites, mostly on an arbitrary, non-transparent basis.
Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdog˘an regularly files libel charges against journalists and cartoonists, a move that singles him out because other powerful figures do not engage in similar practices. He has developed a habit of lashing out at the media in public, which has had dire consequences.
The so-called ‘mainstream media’, in other words, the 85 per cent of it controlled by proprietors who are for the most part engaged in vast business activities other than media (and therefore dependent on the government for economic interests), is suffocated and distinctly lacking in freedom and editorial independence.
In big media outlets, fierce censorship and self-censorship are practised on a daily basis.
They are severely crippled in their pursuit of journalism, unable or unwilling to cover corruption and abuse of power or to allow critical voices and dissent to be heard. When it comes to particular topics, such as criticism of the government, corruption or abuse of power, news stories are either filtered or unpublished; direct censorship – the actual blacking out of text – is exercised when material is found to be ‘too sensitive’ for the government’s or newspaper owners’ interests. But at the same time, there is little problem with pluralism and diversity, as opposed to countries like Iran, China, Azerbaijan or Belarus. With more than 40 national dailies (including a few independent newspapers and a vital partisan, antigovernment press), 2500 local papers, 250 private TV channels (of which 18 broadcast news seven days a week, 24 hours a day), 1300 radio stations and more than 150 news websites and online portals, Turkey has a big, competitive sector. Internet access is increasing at a huge rate, with access passing the 50 per cent mark recently. Because of the internet, despite attempts to command control, this is a milieu in which no story or comment is missed.
Anti-terror law and Ergenekon
The state of Turkey’s media freedom has been oversimplified, looking only at the number of journalists incarcerated without distinction, without looking closely at the specifics for those detentions. It’s a remnant of Cold War mentality. ‘Turkey is an undemocratic country’ has become almost like a slogan, concealing far deeper problems that extend throughout many sectors and structures within Turkish society.
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It is true that people are in jail for voicing dissent, among them journalists. Almost all of them are Kurds who, because of the very nature of the Kurdish cause they pursue, combine publishing and self-expression with activism. This means their activity falls inside the boundaries of the utterly problematic Anti-Terror Law, which makes it extremely difficult to distinguish between those who
are members of terrorist groups that commit acts of violence or praise acts of terrorism and those who are simply exercising their right to express opinion. Dissidents, including journalists, have faced detention and prosecution because the law makes it practically impossible to make these important distinctions. The Anti-Terror Law must, at the very least, be revised so that it conforms to the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) or, better still, abolished altogether.
Around 10 per cent or so of those jailed are Turkish journalists whose imprisonment relates to the Ergenekon case – a clandestine, undemocratic, politically motivated mafiastyle network that, among other acts over a number of years, plotted a series of coups to oust the government and parliament. Since 2008, dozens of journalists have been arrested in connection with Ergenekon plots, together with hundreds of military officers.
Yet, in these cases, the most obvious clash with ECHR directives has to do with the extremely lengthy detention periods and trial procedure (take, for example, the case of Özkan vs Turkey). Needless to say, Turkey should have determined these periods of incarceration in line with international standards, including EU human rights legislation, releasing journalists while they awaited their trials. But apart from these cases, the European Court of Human Rights has rejected many appeals lodged by the accused, undercutting the assumption held by many that journalists should enjoy immunity even when charged with serious crimes such as conspiracy.
In addition to anti-terror laws, there are dozens of articles – in the Penal Code, in Turkey’s Internet Law, the Press Law and Turkish Radio and Television Law – that restrict freedom of expression and freedom
of the press. Some are implemented on a regular basis and some remain dormant, though still on the books. These punitive measures threaten freedom in Turkey, applying not only to media but also to academia, NGOs, political parties and ordinary citizens across the country.
The rise of independent media and the threat to public interest
Paradoxically, Turkish ‘glasnost’ under the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) over the past decade, with the immense help of the EU accession process, has meant, for the most part, that there are no longer many taboo subjects. National mass hypnosis is over. Tiny but independent news outlets – like the dailies Taraf and Zaman or the weekly Nokta – have helped broaden debate about the country’s murky past, untangle myths about the army being the guardian of the system and expose crimes against humanity.
In a pluralist and hugely diverse environment such as Turkey’s, it would be a lie to claim that news dissemination has been fully blocked. Take the case of the Uludere bombing in 2011, when a group of Kurdish villagers were attacked by Turkish fighter jets as they travelled from Iraq along a well-known smugglers’ route, resulting in 34 deaths. Main media group outlets failed to report on the killings for almost a day, but minor papers and those using social media began reporting on the incident
within minutes of it happening.
It could be argued that Turkey has one of the most independent medias in the world – it is truly a phenomenon.
Many countries in democratic transition after the end of the Cold War have had complex changes in their media environment, particularly in southeastern Europe, the Black Sea region and the North Caucasus. From the late 1980s on, this environment has been marked by the emergence of a new type of media proprietor who often – as in some Balkan countries as well as in Russia – entered the media sector with other businesses in tow, with mafia-like habits and connections, with the aim of money laundering, or with enormous greed. For the most part, these players aimed to use media outlets as a tool for keeping government and bureaucracy in check because they became fearful of what might be reported in this new, thriving media landscape, but these people and companies only had personal business gains in mind. Turkey has been part of this reality, and those coming to it from wellestablished, high-standard media environments in the West either do not understand or do not consider the considerable threats to media freedom to be important.
In some countries, for example, Albania, Serbia and Ukraine, media conglomerate proprietors operate in alliance with the ruling powers, establishing politics-media cooperation in the service of their mutual interests, rather than allowing media to serve the public interests.
This addictive system is the primary source of censorship and self-censorship in the wider region, and the blame for destroying the prospects of good journalism must be shared equally between politicians and media owners. In Turkey, in most cases, proper coverage of corruption and any investigative journalism are completely dead. Because this proprietor prototype is in essence non-transparent, Turkey’s media has never bothered to or been in a position to demand transparency or accountability from those in control of the news. In this context, nowhere in the world is the self-destructive role of media proprietors more visible, more irrational or more aggressive than in Turkey
On 19 October 2011, Prime Minister Erdog˘an assembled media proprietors in Ankara to ask for ‘help’ regarding ‘terror coverage’. It’s a call the media should have rejected, but instead they went beyond even what the prime minister had desired: they openly begged him to tell them exactly how long he thought TV dispatches on funerals connected with terrorism should be and shamelessly offered to set up a ‘censorship committee’ by themselves! If created, it would be tasked with ‘filtering’ news prior to publication, particularly when it pertained to clashes between the military and the PKK and political statements issued by them and other Kurdish activists.
In a more recent case, on 18 March 2013, there were reports that the proprietor of the daily newspaper Milliyet, Erdog˘an Demirören, forced veteran pundit Hasan Cemal to resign after he wrote a column defending the right to publish accurate stories, no matter how ‘disturbing’ they would be for the government or media owners. The article was never published, a breach of the journalist’s contract with his employer. Accused of causing the departure of Cemal, Prime Minister Erdog˘an, in his blunt manner some days later, explained that the very same proprietor had visited him to ask whom he should appoint as editor-in-chief for the newspaper.
The uphill struggle: how to solve Turkey’s media dilemmas?
These episodes speak volumes about how polluted Turkey’s media corporate culture is today. Media professionals – by which I mean real, decent journalists, and not those who either defend the government no matter what, or those who condemn it outright under the false belief that all journalism must be oppositional and not critical – face two rather hopeless challenges.
The first frontline for journalists is the political executive and the legislature. Unless the current government amends all laws in favour of freedom of expression and the press, these problems will keep reappearing. In general, the current parliament is a forum of intolerance for freedom of the press, opinion and dissent. In the mindset of the current parliament, the ‘old Turkey’ still rules.
Secondly, media proprietors represent a real challenge to free speech: most of them have no clue about the role and nature of good journalism.
I have long argued that unless these media owners are challenged, one cannot simply go on blaming everything on the political powers. But how do we challenge media owners? Because this is the key to enhancing freedom and independence in Turkey.
It is an uphill struggle. Journalists in Turkey have been forced to live under the ‘unholy alliance’ between governments and big media owners. It is a vicious cycle and very tough to break. We must persuade owners not to interfere in editorial decisions and let us be; we must encourage them to ct transparently in their businesses. Currently, none of them has the civil courage or the wisdom to be on the side of journalists’ fight for freedom.
We could try to persuade the government to ban media owners from entering public tenders, restrict cross-ownership, support local media and allow high share investments for foreign capital owners, with the aim of giving much more autonomy to the national broadcaster, Turkish Radio and Television.
And, of course, we can pressure the government to ensure union activities and memberships in all media outlets are protected by law.
Although their cases are of course the most urgent, problems regarding media freedom in Turkey will not cease to exist when all the journalists in jail – detained or sentenced – are released and pardoned. Turkey can never be part of the democratic league as long as it insists on suppressing and punishing dissent and free speech. But if we limit our professional struggle to these cases only, and introduce minimal amendments to some of the worst laws, we will continue to affect only the tip of the iceberg. If we do only this, held back by a sector that is bleeding spiritually, ruled by owners who are insensitive to the profession, operating without independence, we will continue to operate in appalling conditions, where newsrooms resemble open air prisons.
Freedom must be coupled with true professional independence.
©Yavuz Baydar
Yavuz Baydar is a columnist for Today’s Zaman and was, until he published a piece criticising media ownership in The New York Times, the news ombudsman for the daily newspaper SABAH
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Turkey Uncensored is an Index on Censorship project to publish a series of articles from censored Turkish writers, artists and translators.
19 Jul 2013 | Brazil, Campaigns, India, Russia, Volume 42.02 Summer 2013
Index, in partnership with the European Council on Foreign Relations, held a debate launching the latest issue of Index on Censorship magazine looking at the recent protests in Turkey, Russia and Brazil and what they tell us about public attitudes to freedom and rights.
The discussion explored the difficulties in protecting freedom of speech when political and social power is shifting across the globe. Panelists included Index CEO Kirsty Hughes, ECFR Senior Policy Fellow Anthony Dworkin, Keith Best, CEO of Freedom From Torture, and Turkish journalist and writer Ece Temelkuran.
Temelkuran, who has been a vocal critic of Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, spoke about the decline in media freedom and credibility since the start of anti-government protests in the country:
Dworkin, meanwhile, spoke about anti-government protests, and how they play into the shift in power on the global stage, and also reflect a loss of faith in the democratic process:
Index CEO Kirsty Hughes argued that democracies must work hard to protect free speech, especially when we’ve moved towards a multipolar world:
Keith Best, from Freedom from Torture, argued that the undermined authority of western powers has also meant a rise in impunity for torture:
The panel also discussed the role of technology in shifting the balance of power globally, after an audience member asked whether or not “bottom up politics are weakening the institutions of the state.”:
For a range of in-depth reports and articles on journalism, freedom of speech, censorship and arts check out the latest issue of the magazine here. Be sure to follow @IndexEvents for more updates on our exciting events and discussions
