21 Jan 2019 | Global Journalist, Media Freedom, media freedom featured, News and features, Vietnam
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]This article is part of Index on Censorship partner Global Journalist’s Project Exile series, which has published interviews with exiled journalists from around the world.[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”104715″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes”][vc_column_text]Dang Xuan Dieu has paid a heavy price for resisting the Vietnamese government.
A community activist, blogger and frequent contributor to the Catholic news outlet Vietnam Redemptorist News, a site that often reports on human rights violations, Dieu was arrested in July 2011 and charged with attempting to overthrow the Southeast Asian nation’s Communist government. He was held without trial until January 2013, when he and 13 other writers and human rights activists were convicted after a two-day trial in the central city of Vinh.
Dieu was sentenced to 13 years in prison and five years of house arrest under Article 79 of the country’s penal code, which criminalises activities aimed at overthrowing the government. He was also accused of being a member being of Viet Tan, an exile-run political party banned in the country.
Such trials aren’t unusual in Vietnam. The Communist Party maintains near-total control over Vietnam’s judiciary, media and civil society. Internet in the country is heavily censored, and nearly 100 political prisoners are behind bars, according to Amnesty International.
Expressing dissent in Vietnamese prisons is even harder. The country’s Communist government often seeks to pressure inmates into confessing to alleged crimes in prison, and if they refuse, they can be beaten or tortured.
Yet resist is what Dieu did. He refused to confess, refused to wear a prison uniform and periodically went on hunger strikes to protest his detention and the treatment of prisoners.
“In Vietnam, a lot of people are arrested where they are harassed and tortured, which forces many people to confess their crimes,” says Dieu, 39, in an interview with Global Journalist. “I never accepted the charges and chose to not admit to any guilt. Because of this, I was unable to see my lawyer or my family.”
In his six years in prison, Dieu endured extensive torture and harassment. He was severely beaten for refusing to wear the prison uniform, and was held in solitary confinement for extensive periods in what he described as a “tiny room with no room to breathe.” According to Amnesty International, he was also shackled in a cell with another prisoner who beat him, forced to drink unclean water, denied access to water for bathing and was forced to live in unsanitary conditions without a toilet.
In early January 2017, as U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry travelled to Vietnam, Dieu was granted early release on the condition that he immediately leave the country. Now living in France, Dieu is a student and continues to blog about Vietnam. Through a translator, he spoke with Global Journalist’s Shirley Tay about the abuse he faced in prison and the country’s media climate. Below, an edited version of their interview:
Global Journalist: How did you get into journalism?
Dang Xuan Dieu: I was a student and contributor to the Vietnam Redemptorist News, and I would write about social justice issues. I created my own blog, Tâm và Tầm [Mind and Games] and also worked with a news website Dang Luon.
[Vietnam] restricts independent media and control all media outlets to maintain power. All media is monitored by the Communist Party of Vietnam, so state bodies end up creating their own media or newspapers. There are probably 600 media outlets in Vietnam at the moment, but all are currently controlled by the government. When I was active in 2011, writing blogs and independent news articles was actually quite dangerous.
GJ: What were some of the work that got you into trouble?
Dieu: While I am Catholic, I also work on other forms of activism. The Vietnamese government often tries to control the information that people are able to have. So I created a small, independent organisation to promote education on things like safe sex, pregnancy, and other issues that youth face. Because it was an independent group, we were often targeted. We were asked to go to the police station several times when we were organising in various parishes.
During this time, I started connecting with civil rights activists from overseas who taught me how to manage and organise independent civil society organisations. After that, I travelled overseas to attend some of these classes. On the way back to Vietnam, I was charged for attending a class on leadership training and nonviolent struggle.
GJ: Can you tell me about your time in prison?
Dieu: In prisons, they have their own systems to punish prisoners. There are areas that allow for people to move freely and do normal, day-to-day activities, but there are also areas within the normal prison that are like a prison within a prison within a prison. So I was in what you would call a third-degree prison area, where people are primarily shackled and kept in solitary confinement.
The problems started when I did not confess to any crimes and when I refused to wear the prison uniform because I believed I wasn’t guilty. I was placed in a cell with someone who was charged for murder and who tried to [beat me] to force me to wear the prison uniform and confess to crimes. He may have been doing this on orders from various prison officials.
After that person was transferred, I started advocating for the rights of prisoners, such as writing petitions to officers regarding mistreatment. As a Catholic, I wasn’t allowed to practice my faith or read the Bible. There were several other injustices which led me to begin a hunger strike.
As punishment, they placed me in solitary confinement. The majority of my six years in prison was in solitary confinement or in cells with very dangerous people as cellmates. During my time in prison, they saw me as a resister and so they didn’t allow me to see my family at any time.
What was worse was that they actually told my family that I refused to see them, rather than that I wasn’t allowed to see them. Because of this, I held an extended hunger strike where I ate only one meal a day for nearly a year, and this led to a transfer of prison locations.
GJ: How did you manage to get out of prison?
Dieu: There was another prison inmate who lived close to my cell, where I had been tortured and mistreated. When he was released, he actually told the wider community about what was going on in prison. At that time, the prison wasn’t able to block information going in and out of the prison.
So the community started organising campaigns calling for my release, and there were diplomats from the European Union, France, the U.S., Australia and Sweden who visited me. At that time, the EU diplomat asked if I wanted to be exiled to a country in Europe. I refused because I wanted to advocate for the release of other people, not my own release.
After the diplomat’s visit, they took me to a different cell and then never allowed me to leave that area for about six months. The situation started becoming dangerous to my life and luckily, another inmate who was not a political prisoner, but just a regular prisoner, was released and contacted my family to inform them of my prison conditions.
So the EU and a French diplomat visited me again, this was during the time of French President [François] Hollande’s visit to Vietnam in September 2016. My family was able to pass me a letter asking me to go into exile. Upon receiving that letter, I agreed. After that, it took another three months for them to arrange it.
GJ: At that point, were you ready to go in to exile?
It was only the letter from my mother which pushed me to choose to be exiled. It was because my mother is fairly old now, and she wanted to see me released before she died. I was determined, I was willing to die in prison rather than be exiled. The Vietnamese government tries to push activists outside of Vietnam, because they see that it’s not a win for activism. And obviously, for humanitarian reasons, a lot of the community advocates for the release of these prisoners.
GJ: Do you have plans to return?
Dieu: I want to return to Vietnam, but it depends on there being changes through international pressure. If I were to return now, I would definitely be arrested. I will just have to wait.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_video link=”https://youtu.be/6BIZ7b0m-08″][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_column_text]Index on Censorship partner Global Journalist is a website that features global press freedom and international news stories as well as a weekly radio program that airs on KBIA, mid-Missouri’s NPR affiliate, and partner stations in six other states. The website and radio show are produced jointly by professional staff and student journalists at the University of Missouri’s School of Journalism, the oldest school of journalism in the United States. [/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). We’ll send you our weekly newsletter, our monthly events update and periodic updates about our activities defending free speech. We won’t share, sell or transfer your personal information to 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][vc_row full_width=”stretch_row_content”][vc_column][three_column_post title=”Global Journalist / Project Exile” full_width_heading=”true” category_id=”22142″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
14 Jan 2019 | Germany, Global Journalist, Media Freedom, News and features, Turkey, Turkey Uncensored
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]This article is part of Index on Censorship partner Global Journalist’s Project Exile series, which has published interviews with exiled journalists from around the world.[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]

Can Dündar (Photo: Claude Truong Ngoc / Wikiepedia)
Can Dündar isn’t easily silenced.
The outspoken Turkish columnist and editor has been fired, jailed and even shot at by a would-be assassin for his coverage of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s government. He’s been forced into exile, blocked from seeing his wife and faced calls from Turkey’s pro-government media that he be abducted from his new home in Berlin.
“Exile, on the one hand, is a paradise for a journalist like me,” says Can Dündar, 57. “In Turkey it was hell: you are not allowed to write or talk. In Germany, at least I can write, I can talk, I can defend my colleagues. But of course, I am away from my country, my family and my paper. And there are lots of risks around. I’ve been taking those risks and trying to fight back.”
Dündar isn’t one to avoid risks during his 37 years as a journalist, TV anchor and author. Earlier in his career he wrote for Hürriyet, one of the country’s largest news outlets, before becoming a columnist with the daily Milliyet. Dündar was fired from the latter in 2013 after criticizing the response of Erdogan’s ruling AKP party to the massive anti-government protests that began in Istanbul’s Gezi Park.
But Dündar wasn’t done. He went on to become editor-in-chief of Cumhuriyet, a smaller newspaper that became increasingly critical of the government as Erdogan moved the country towards authoritarianism. In 2015, Cumhuriyet created a sensation by posting video footage online that it said showed Turkish intelligence forces transporting arms to opposition groups in Syria.
The report infuriated Erdogan, who labeled Dündar a traitor. Both Dündar and Cumhuriyet’s Ankara bureau chief, Erdem Gul were arrested and charged with espionage and ‘divulging state secrets.’ Dündar was interrogated for 11 hours before being taken to jail, where he was held 92 days, including 40 days in solitary confinement.
He was released to face trial, but on May 6, 2016, as Dündar awaited a verdict in his trial, a lone gunman approached him outside the courthouse and shot twice at him. The shots missed, and the gunman was wrestled away by a plain clothes policeman and Dündar’s wife. In video footage of the incident, the assailant is heard calling Dündar ‘a traitor’ – the exact the same words as Erdogan used to describe him.[/vc_column_text][vc_video link=”https://youtu.be/4YlDTDg2k1s”][vc_column_text]Dündar was sentenced to nearly six years in jail, but appealed his conviction. While on holiday overseas during the appeal in July 2016, members of the Turkish military launched a failed coup against Erdogan.
In the aftermath, Erdogan declared a state of emergency and began a sweeping crackdown against perceived political opponents and alleged supporters of a dissident cleric the government accused of inspiring the coup attempt. More than 160,000 people were arrested and 152,000 government workers were fired, according to the UN’s human rights office.
Among the arrested were 166 journalists, 75 of whom were convicted of various crimes, including coup-plotting and disseminating terrorism propaganda, according to the Stockholm Centre for Freedom. Thirteen of Dündar’s Cumhuriyet colleagues were charged in the purge.
All of this was enough for Dündar not to return to Turkey. Now living in Berlin, he divides his time between writing a column for the German newspaper Die Zeit, launching the startup Turkish news site Özgürüz and lecturing in Europe. A play based on his writings in jail called “We Are Arrested,” debuted in May at the Royal Shakespeare Company in the United Kingdom, just weeks after Turkey’s highest court ruled that Dündar’s jail sentence should be extended to 15 to 20 years.
Dündar spoke with Global Journalist’s Kris Croonen about harassment from pro-Erdogan Turks in Germany and Turkey’s diplomatic efforts to capture him. Below, an edited version of their interview:
Global Journalist: What made you decide not to return to Turkey?
Dündar: After the military coup attempt on July 15, 2016, the rule of law was lifted, and my lawyers warned me that under the state of emergency I would be in jail again and it won’t be that easy to get out this time.
The first thing they had done was arrest the high [court] judges who had decided for our release previously. They are all in jail, still.
So it was a kind of a coup d’etat by Erdogan. I also consulted my colleagues, my family, and everybody advised me not to come back. Of course it was not an easy decision because I went on a holiday just with a suitcase full of books and nothing else.
So I stayed in Europe,without anything. First I traveled in different countries: to London, to Paris and Berlin…but I realized that Berlin was the best option because there was a huge interest about Turkey in Germany. I got an offer from Die Zeit to write a regular column for them, and PEN/Germany offered me a scholarship. So I decided to stay here.
GJ: The Turkish community in Germany is about 3 million people – and many are fervent supporters of Erdogan. Isn’t Germany a little bit unsafe for you?
Dündar: Not “a little bit.” It’s really the most dangerous place on Earth for someone like me [laughs]. In the beginning, I was not aware of the risks. But then I realized immediately, and it’s still a problem.
GJ: Do you encounter real danger in Berlin from pro-government Turks?
Dündar: Yeah, that’s daily business. They attack, they come to annoy you, they insult you…That kind of stuff. But it’s nothing different than Turkey, you know, you get used to this always facing risks. It’s not new for me. I just have to be careful. And if I do something in public, the German police normally comes and protects me.
GJ: When did you realize that your wife wouldn’t be able to join you?
Dündar: Immediately after I arrived in Berlin, I called her. The day after she was about to come to me but she was stopped at the airport…without any reason. They took her passport and confiscated it. First they said her passport is not reading on the computer. Then they said it’s lost, although she had it in her pocket.
Shortly after, they published a kind of decree saying that if someone is being blamed for terrorist acts, their family members may also be banned from travel. For the Turkish government, I am a terrorist. Everybody challenging the government is a terrorist. So it’s two and half years now that we are living separately…She can’t travel…it’s tough, really, it’s a kind of punishment. She’s held like a hostage.
GJ: When Erdogan came to Germany in September, he threatened to stay away from a press conference if you would be there. In the end, you were the one who decided not to show up. Why did you give in?
Dündar: That’s correct. Mr. Erdogan said, “It’s me or him.” I decided that a journalist should not be the subject of the news, he should be the writer of the news…On the other hand, what was important is asking questions. So I gave my questions to my German colleagues and they asked them. Everybody understood what kind of politician we are dealing with and how he’s scared of journalists and questions.
GJ: Do you still think it’s been worth the sacrifice?
Dündar: Yes, because we are not only defending a profession, we also have to save our country. It’s a high price we are paying. But the alternative is losing the country. So we have to do everything we can. I feel responsible for my son [who lives in the U.K.], I want him to be able to live in a free country. I have to do my best and this is the least that I can do: writing as a journalist and talking.
GJ: Do you still hope to be able to return to Turkey?
Dündar: In the short term, it will be painful, but we are coming to the end of it. After sixteen years of power, now Erdogan is facing [his] most difficult period of time, at least economically. So we will see the consequences. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_video link=”https://youtu.be/6BIZ7b0m-08″][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_column_text]Index on Censorship partner Global Journalist is a website that features global press freedom and international news stories as well as a weekly radio program that airs on KBIA, mid-Missouri’s NPR affiliate, and partner stations in six other states. The website and radio show are produced jointly by professional staff and student journalists at the University of Missouri’s School of Journalism, the oldest school of journalism in the United States. [/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). We’ll send you our weekly newsletter, our monthly events update and periodic updates about our activities defending free speech. We won’t share, sell or transfer your personal information to 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][vc_row full_width=”stretch_row_content”][vc_column][three_column_post title=”Global Journalist / Project Exile” full_width_heading=”true” category_id=”22142″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
2 Jan 2019 | Global Journalist, Media Freedom, News and features, Russia
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]This article is part of Index on Censorship partner Global Journalist’s Project Exile series, which has published interviews with exiled journalists from around the world.[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”104433″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes”][vc_column_text]A decade ago, Russian journalist Yulia Latynina thought dissidents who compared President Vladimir Putin’s rule to the Soviet times were ridiculous.
“Five to 10 years ago, I would never fear for my life and I would just laugh at people who would compare the situation with the Soviet” era, she says.
Latynina has long hosted a popular talk show on the independent broadcaster Radio Echo Moscow and is a columnist for Novaya Gazeta, a newspaper critical of Putin. Yet in 2008, she turned to Russia’s security service, the FSB, when she felt threatened for her critical views on Russia’s war with neighboring Georgia over the breakaway Caucasus regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. At that time, the state was still willing to protect a Russian journalist, even a critic.
However since Russia’s 2014 invasion of Ukraine, things have changed, says Latynina, in an interview with Global Journalist. Attacks against journalists, opposition politicians and activists have been outsourced to people close to the Kremlin, such as Putin associate Yevgeny Prigozhin, she adds. The state will no longer shields its critics.
“The red line is crossed,” she says, in an interview with Global Journalist. “Now it’s quite different. There’s obviously no way I’m going to be protected.”
Indeed, Latynina is no longer laughing about security threats. In 2016, as she was walking in central Moscow, a man in a motorcycle helmet threw a bucket of faeces on her. In July 2017, someone sprayed a noxious chemical all around the house she shared with her elderly parents, sickening two children who lived next door. In September 2017, her parked car was set on fire. To date, their have been no prosecutions in any of the incidents.
Given the frequency with which Putin’s opponents have turned up dead and Russia’s continuing pressure on independent journalists, the attacks were hard to ignore. Shortly after her car was torched, Latynina and her parents fled the country. They’re now living in a different European country, which Latynina won’t disclose out of fear for her safety.
Yet even from abroad, she continues to write for Novaya Gazeta and host the Radio Echo Moscow program “Access Code.” Latynina, who has also written more than 20 books, spoke with Global Journalist’s Shirley Tay about the Kremlin’s outsourcing of political violence and the climate for free expression in Russia. Below, an edited version of their interview.
Global Journalist: A number of journalists critical of Russia have been attacked in recent years. What do you think President Putin’s role is in this?
Latynina: Instead of exercising direct censorship, Mr. Putin is farming out violence to various groups around him. One of the most famous examples is of course the Kremlin “cook,” [Yevgeny] Prigozhin. Novaya Gazeta is writing a lot about him.
Mr. Prigozhin is suspected of organizing numerous attacks on journalists and activists. We have reasons to believe that Mr. Prigozhin very early on took an interest in Novaya Gazeta. He specifically inserted a spy in Novaya Gazeta [who] conducted several operations against its journalists.
GJ: How does this create problems for the Russian state?
Latynina: Obviously there are people behind whom Putin is hiding. So there’s always the idea of plausible deniability.
At the same time, when you’re losing control of violence, what does the modern state do? It has a monopoly over violence. Mr. Putin, he has lost that monopoly on purpose and only to people who are friendly to him. But when you lose the monopoly of violence, this also means you are losing any means to control it.
Despite the fact that I know lots of people behind the government think highly of me…obviously nobody’s going to say no to the people who would like to attack [me]. So that’s the biggest problem.
GJ: You’ve said things have gotten worse over the years. In what way?
Latynina: Russia was a very free country back in the 1990s. It was still not that bad in the beginning of the 21st century. Five to 10 years ago, I would never fear for my life and I would just laugh at people who would compare the situation with the Soviet [era].
I can mention a very funny story that happened to me back in 2008 after the Russia-Georgia war. I was one of the few [Russian] journalists, who from the beginning, was saying that this war is 100 percent an aggression from Russia against Georgia, and it was carried out in a very surreptitious way, just like later with the Ukraine.
I traveled to [the breakaway Georgian territory of] South Ossetia. As far as I surmise the [pro-Russia] South Ossetian authorities didn’t like what I wrote. People were following me. I was thinking they were probably some pro-Kremlin activists. I was so surprised and frightened to see that these are people from the Caucasus. I managed to take a photo of their car – it was without number plates.
I went to Alexei Venediktov, the head of our radio station. I showed him the photo. He talked to Alexander Bortnikov, who was the head of the FSB [Federal Security Service]. I think Mr. Bortnikov didn’t like the idea of Russian journalists being killed by [people] who were definitely not Russian and who were not authorized to carry out this killing.
They gave me protection for six months. And they caught the guys. It was hard because as I said there were no number plates. They never charged them with anything resembling an attack on me, and it turned out they were hardened criminals.
…[But] even eight years ago, despite the fact that the situation in Russia was already very bad and I was one of the most outspoken critics of the Russia-Georgian war, the FSB were definitely unhappy with the idea of somebody killing or at least maiming Yulia Latynina. They were probably thinking that if a Russian journalist is going to be killed, it should be done by the FSB and not by somebody from the outside. I wholeheartedly agree with them on this.
So this was just eight years ago when I could still apply for state protection. After [the 2014 war in] Ukraine, I think this was the limit. The red line is crossed. Now it’s quite different. There’s obviously no way I’m going to be protected.
GJ: Was there a particular article you wrote that sparked the most recent attacks?
Latynina: No, it was just a series of attacks. In the summer of 2016, they covered me in poo. It was actually done very expertly. This is why we immediately realized in Novaya Gazeta who is responsible, but I cannot openly state who is responsible, I have no proof.
The people who did this were following my car, and probably for some time, because I like to walk and my car was parked like two or three kilometers from the radio station.
After they did it, I started running after one of them. He crossed the street and jumped on [the back] of a motorcycle and drove off. The police, in the beginning, they started investigating. They found the motorcycle in question through [surveillance] cameras. They drove to a place where there are no cameras and a lot of warehouses and [the motorcycle] never came out. What came out instead was a small truck with stolen number plates. So obviously there was a very high degree of planning.
This didn’t actually frighten me because obviously if somebody wants to kill you, he doesn’t cover you in poo. So I continued to say what I’m saying.
GJ: What happened next?
Latynina: What happened the next summer [in 2017] when me and my parents are both living in our house, there’s another attack. This one is a very funny one because it’s done with a foul-smelling gas. I couldn’t believe that this is really something directed against us because it seems so funny. It later turned out that the gas, when we analyzed it, it was what you would call a non-lethal military grade substance–very rarely used and very hard to obtain.
When I realized it was done on purpose, I surmised it’s not dangerous because obviously if it’s dangerous it won’t smell so bad. After this my mother had lung problems – it’s a house that’s split in half, we have neighbors – so eight people were affected, two of them children, four of them seniors. This was a very unhappy experience. They put it in my car [too] and it was completely unusable after this because it smelled like a skunk and nothing could be done about it.
A month after this, the car was torched. I believe the only reason it was torched was because probably they were listening to our conversations in Novaya Gazeta and they realized that we were analyzing the substance and they didn’t want it to be analyzed.
The big problem was that I was on a lecture tour outside of Russia, so my parents were home. They torched the car and the problem is that we have a wooden house. My [79-year-old] father ran out, and the car is very close to the house. So he started putting the fire out, and it could have exploded, burning the house.
I guess this was the last straw. This was probably the idea, to drive me out of the country. These incidents came right after I spoke a lot about Mr. Prigozhin and how he got a license to extract oil in those parts of Syria liberated by his [private security company] Wagner.
GJ: You’ve continued your work for Novaya Gazeta and Radio Echo Moscow even while living abroad. Russia is thought to have killed people overseas in the past, including former spy Sergei Skripal in England. Do you think journalists should continue reporting if their life is in danger?
Latynina: First of all, I hope my life is not really in danger, I’m pretty sure a lot has to change in Russia before I become a target of a state-sponsored attack. Trying to kill Skripal and his daughter was a very dirty thing to do, but there’s a big difference between killing an agent who was spying for another country and trying to kill a journalist.
I think Russia has not yet crossed this threshold. Unfortunately, it seems that maybe some people who are private operators did cross the threshold.
I’m constantly waiting for the consequences. I’m not just a journalist, I’m a writer. I want to finish my books on Christianity and I want to finish a couple of novels. So if I really had to choose between my life and reporting, I’m not sure reporting would mean that much to me.
But I hate lies. I hate lies whenever I see them and I just can’t stand lies. So whenever I see a lie, I call it a lie. I cannot make a compromise. My ratings are high because people like what I say. If I start going soft and if I started going all squishy and I just put my head under my wing and slept, people just wouldn’t listen to me. So you have to choose. The only thing that’s changed is that I’m living a much safer and much more relaxed life.
[/vc_column_text][vc_video link=”https://youtu.be/_t8aotBf7q8″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_video link=”https://youtu.be/6BIZ7b0m-08″][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_column_text]Index on Censorship partner Global Journalist is a website that features global press freedom and international news stories as well as a weekly radio program that airs on KBIA, mid-Missouri’s NPR affiliate, and partner stations in six other states. The website and radio show are produced jointly by professional staff and student journalists at the University of Missouri’s School of Journalism, the oldest school of journalism in the United States. [/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). We’ll send you our weekly newsletter, our monthly events update and periodic updates about our activities defending free speech. We won’t share, sell or transfer your personal information to 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][vc_row full_width=”stretch_row_content”][vc_column][three_column_post title=”Global Journalist / Project Exile” full_width_heading=”true” category_id=”22142″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
19 Oct 2018 | Global Journalist (Spanish), Journalism Toolbox Spanish, Spain
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”103170″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes”][vc_custom_heading text=”El uzbeco Hamid Ismailov, periodista y escritor, se vio obligado a huir de Uzbekistán en 1992, debido a lo que el Estado definió como “tendencias democráticas inaceptables“”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]
Hamid Ismailov merece una disculpa. O, como mínimo, una explicación.
Han pasado 26 años desde los sucesos que llevaron al periodista uzbeco Hamid Ismailov a abandonar su país natal y huir a Reino Unido. En los 90, Ismailov estuvo trabajando con un equipo de televisión de la BBC en el rodaje de una película sobre Uzbekistán. El régimen represivo de Islam Karimov abrió una causa penal contra él. Las autoridades afirmaban que estaba intentando derrocar al Gobierno.
Los amigos de Ismailov le recomendaron que huyera de Uzbekistán tras recibir amenazas contra su familia y sufrir ataques contra su casa. Así que lo hizo. Veinticuatro años después, sigue sin volver.
Y no es porque no lo haya intentado. Así lo hizo este mismo año pasado, tras la muerte de Karimov en 2016. Se le denegó la entrada.
Los libros de Ismailov, uno de los autores uzbecos más publicados del mundo, están prohibidos en su propio país. No se tolera mencionar su nombre. Su existencia, básicamente, ha sido eliminada del día a día cultural de su tierra natal. Sin embargo, en la era de internet, Ismailov ha encontrado formas de llegar al público uzbeco a través de redes sociales como Facebook. Sube sus novelas a esta plataforma, donde la gente de Uzbekistán puede leerlas.
Según el índice de libertad de prensa de Reporteros sin Fronteras, Uzbekistán ocupa el puesto 169 de 180 países. Con los medios tradicionales bajo estricto control, el Gobierno ha pasado ahora a tomar brutales medidas contra las webs de noticias independientes y aplicaciones de mensajería instantánea.
Tras la muerte de Karimov en 2016, el Primer Ministro Shavkat Mirziyoyev asumió el poder. El 2 de marzo de 2018, Uzbekistán liberó a Yusuf Ruzimuradov, encarcelado durante más de 19 años, cosa que lo convirtió en el periodista que más tiempo ha pasado en la cárcel del mundo. Ismailov expresó su alegría tras enterarse de la puesta en libertad de Ruzimuradov, pero sigue sin confiarse: «por muy esperanzado que esté, también soy escéptico».
Ismailov ha trabajado para el Servicio Mundial de la BBC durante su exilio en Reino Unido. En mayo de 2010 lo nombraron escritor residente, un puesto que ocupó hasta finales de 2014. Actualmente es editor de los servicios de Asia Central de la BBC.
Hamid Ismailov habló con Sydney Kalich, de Index on Censorship, sobre la situación de los derechos humanos en Uzbekistán, su tiempo en el exilio y su libro recién traducido, The Devil’s Dance («La danza del Diablo»). A continuación se incluye una versión editada de su entrevista:
Index: ¿Cuál era la situación de los derechos humanos en Uzbekistán antes de que te marcharas, y cómo ha cambiado a lo largo de los últimos 23 años?
Ismailov: Por desgracia, ha ido empeorando con los años debido al régimen autocrático del presidente Karimov, que estaba en el poder entonces y murió en 2016. Así que durante todo este tiempo, la situación de los derechos humanos ha sido bastante funesta en Uzbekistán. El país siempre ha estado en la parte más baja de las listas mundiales de derechos humanos. Así que, hoy en día, con el nuevo presidente, el comportamiento de Shavkat Mirziyoyev nos da esperanzas de que el estado de los derechos humanos esté yendo a mejor, pues han liberado a varios prisioneros políticos. La prensa y otras actividades empiezan a revitalizarse y a estar menos encubiertas. Existe un rayo de esperanza de que las cosas mejorarán. Pero, al mismo tiempo—cuando miro a otros países con nuevos líderes que al principio fingían ser reformistas, pero luego volvieron a las políticas de gobernantes anteriores—, también tengo mis reservas. Por muy esperanzado que esté, también soy escéptico.
Index: Intentaste volver a Uzbekistán el año pasado y no te dejaron entrar. ¿Crees que volverás a ver tu país?
Ismailov: Sí, tuve muy mala suerte, porque incluso bajo las anteriores autoridades intenté entrar en Uzbekistán dos veces tras los acontecimientos de Andijan de 2005, pero la nueva administración no me permitió ingresar en el país. Me dejó bastante perplejo. Creo que me deben una disculpa por no permitirme entrar en mi propio país. Soy uno de los escritores más reconocidos en occidente y en todo el mundo que se dedican a promocionar la literatura uzbeca, si no el que más. Así que, ¿por qué no se me ha per
mitido la entrada al país? Necesito una explicación y al menos una disculpa antes de decidir qué voy a hacer ahora.
Index: ¿Y te has sentido así cada vez que te han denegado el ingreso? ¿Que simplemente necesitas una disculpa?
Ismailov: Creo que sí. No he cometido ningún crimen contra Uzbekistán. No he hecho nada ni le he hecho ningún daño a Uzbekistán. Lo único que hago es promover la literatura y la cultura de Uzbekistán por el mundo. Por lo tanto, estoy bastante anonadado y perplejo por que no me hayan dejado entrar en el país. Es donde viven to dos mis familiares; estaba planeando ir a la tumba de mi madre a rendirle tributo. Pero cuando ya lo tenía todo planeado, de repente, me echaron del aeropuerto.
Index: No has vivido en el país desde 1992, pero aún publicas en uzbeco. ¿Significa eso que sigues escribiendo con el público uzbeco en mente, más que para un público occidental?
Ismailov: Escribo en distintas lenguas. Escribo en uzbeco. Escribo en ruso. Escribo en inglés también. Así que son distintas lenguas para distintos públicos. Si escribo en uzbeco, probablemente sea para uzbecos; no hay mucha gente inglesa o rusa que lea en uzbeco. Las traducciones me han sido de mucha ayuda por la prohibición de mis libros en Uzbekistán. Pero en la era de internet, las prohibiciones no importan demasiado, porque sigo pudiendo publicar mi trabajo en la red. Otro tema es que a la gente le dé miedo nombrarme o hablar sobre mí porque saben cuáles son las consecuencias. No obstante, internet me hace la vida mucho más fácil.
Index: Tu nuevo libro, The Devil’s Dance (“La danza del Diablo”), está a punto de salir en inglés al mercado británico. ¿De qué trata?
Ismailov: En realidad The Devil’s Dance no es un libro nuevo. Lo terminé en 2012 y luego lo publiqué en uzbeco en Facebook. Se hizo bastante viral en aquel entonces. Parece nuevo porque lo han traducido al inglés. De hecho, escribí tres novelas después de esa y acabo de terminar otra novela en inglés. The Devil’s Dance es la historia del legendario escritor Abdulla Qodiriy, el autor uzbeco más reverenciado del siglo XX, el cual quería escribir una novela que reemplazase todo lo que había escrito hasta entonces. Sabemos sobre qué planeaba escribir, pero cuando empezó el borrador de la novela, lo arrestaron. Diez meses después, en 1938, lo mataron de un disparo en las prisiones estalinistas. Mi novela trata de los días que pasó Qodiriy en prisión, pensando en su famosa novela sin escribir. Son dos novelas en una. Me atreví a escribir una por él. Ocurre en su mente, así que no está escrita al cien por cien, pero hay borradores, hay historias, hay intenciones e ideas. Es una novela escrita pero, a la vez, sin escribir.
Index: ¿Cómo te influyó como periodista tu puesto de escritor residente en la BBC?
Ismailov: Fue divertido, pero al mismo tiempo sentía una gran responsabilidad, porque estaba representando a grandes escritores como George Orwell, V. S. Naipaul y demás. Me sentía como una encarnación de esas personas. Estaba intentando demostrar el significado de la residencia, el valor de la creatividad para esta organización.
Index: ¿Cuál crees que ha sido la parte más difícil de ser un periodista en el exilio?
Ismailov: La parte más difícil es no estar con tu gente todos los días. Aunque estás con ellos virtualmente a diario, no los ves cara a cara. Eso es lo peor. Aunque estar en el exilio tiene sus ventajas. Cuando empiezas a contemplar tu parte del mundo o tu país a vista de pájaro, en cierto modo, puedes ver la perspectiva de tu propio país en el mundo. Puedes comparar las experiencias de tu país con otras regiones y puedes traer las experiencias, o unas similares, de otros países a tu propio mundo. Así que tiene sus pros y sus contras.
Index: ¿De qué forma crees que ha cambiado tu forma de hacer periodismo desde que vives en el exilio?
Ismailov: Creo que el periodismo en la antigua Unión Soviética era muy conceptual. Iba todo sobre conceptos y grandes esquemas, en lugar de historias humanas. El periodismo de la BBC trata más sobre el elemento humano; aborda la realidad a través de historias y experiencias humanas. Así que para mí esa fue la diferencia y experiencia más chocante. Como escritor, siempre trato mis historias a través de las experiencias de mis personajes, así que eso se asemejaba más al periodismo occidental. Por lo tanto, trabajar como periodista aquí va muy en armonía conmigo. Como escritor, enfocas a través de los personajes, y como periodista aquí haces lo mismo.
Index: Mencionaste una vez que algunas personas se sienten más conectadas a la cultura de su país y más orgullosas de ella cuando se marchan. ¿Te sientes así con respecto a Uzbekistán?
Ismailov: Así es. Sí, me siento responsable de mi cultura, porque cuando pienso en mis antepasados, en mis abuelas y mis tías, en todas las personas cuya contribución a mi cultura fue tan vasta… tengo que devolverle algo a esta cultura, que me hizo lo que hoy soy. Pero, al mismo tiempo, me siento parte de diferentes culturas, de la cultura rusa, o de la inglesa también, ahora que he estado viviendo en Londres durante los últimos 24 años. Nunca he vivido tanto tiempo en ningún sitio. Así que, por lo tanto, le rindo tributo a este país y estoy en deuda con él. Estoy escribiendo varias novelas en inglés para pagar mi deuda con este país y esta cultura. Puede que Uzbekistán deba hasta darle las gracias a Ismailov.
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