23 Nov 2016 | News
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A crowd of protesters prevent police from arresting journalists in Istanbul, Turkey, December 2014. Credit: Sadik Gulec / Shutterstock.
The following is a speech given by Index on Censorship trustee David Schlesinger at last week’s News Agencies World Congress in Baku, Azerbaijan.
A journalist is not a soldier. A pen is not a menace. A camera is not a gun.
Yet to far too many crooked governments, evil despots, corrupt moguls or power-mad militias, a journalist is more of a threat than even an armed opponent is. Their fear is that the journalist’s pen can write the story of suffering or malfeasance; the journalist’s camera can capture an image of the truth; the journalist’s story can move readers to tears – or more threateningly, to action.
So journalists are harassed, kidnapped and killed. Access to information is made difficult or cut off completely. Transparency becomes opacity. And the loser is society.
This is not an argument about democracy over another form of government. This is not an argument about systems of rule or the strengths or weaknesses of one leader over another. This is very simply an argument that for any society to function well, its people need to be informed.
Without knowledge, there is no accountability. Without accountability, there is only despotism and corruption. Every good system of government needs honesty and transparency to keep its legitimacy long term. Journalists and journalism need to be recognised and treasured as vital players in this struggle.
And yet they are not.
Some governments refuse access to news sites. Some leaders refuse to hold press conferences. Some prosecute journalists and their sources for legitimate newsgathering. Some harass reporters and their families, making the journalists’ choice of profession a serious liability. Some turn a blind eye when bullies and thugs use violence against journalists to stop their reporting. Some governments themselves take horrible physical vengeance on reporters, forcing them to put their bodies and souls in jeopardy in service of their calling.
In the words of the Committee to Protect Journalists: Murder is the ultimate form of censorship.
Since 1992, according to the CPJ, 1,210 journalists have been killed while reporting. Of those, 796 were murdered.
Death is not a danger merely for war correspondents – in some countries, reporters on almost every beat step into peril daily. Maybe their reporting offends a local boss. Maybe they get too close to a drug story, or a corruption story. Maybe they have to go into a dangerous no-man’s-land in search of the key fact or illuminating interview. Maybe they’re targeted simply for asking questions or appearing curious.
Of those journalists murdered, CPJ found that some of the targeted covered a business beat, some covered corruption, some covered crime, some covered culture, some covered human rights, some covered politics, some covered sports, some covered war. That’s nearly every beat imaginable, nearly every beat important to a media institution.
And the truly horrifying fact is that most of these murders are never investigated thoroughly, let alone punished.
Thus, all of us in the media sector should celebrate and recognise the importance of United Nations Security Council resolution 2222, adopted unanimously in May 2015, that strongly condemned the culture of impunity for violations and abuses committed against journalists in situations of armed conflict. This resolution emphasised the responsibility of all UN member states to comply with their obligations under international law to end impunity and to prosecute those responsible for serious violations of international humanitarian law.
This was hugely important.
We must take comfort in the fact that the United Nations recognised the important work that journalists do in conflict zones and that it condemned attacks against them and demanded the end to a culture of impunity.
But we must also remember that horrific violence against journalists and the culture of impunity exists outside of armed conflict zones as well. Violence stalks the reporter covering links between police and the drug trade, the reporter combing through business records to track down corruption, the reporter uncovering government malfeasance and maladministration, the reporter asking too many questions of an overly sensitive strongman.
And we must also remember that despite the passage of resolution 2222 a year and a half ago, the problem has not gone away; the killings and murders have continued; the lack of accountability and justice remains.
This is unacceptable.
We at this conference have both a duty to take a stand and an opportunity to take constructive and important action.
First, we who have been or still are in the mainstream media have an obligation to open the eyes of the public and policy makers to the fact that the definition of journalists today is much broader than just the types of people here in this room.
We cannot think of bloggers, social media tweeters and independent reporters as the competition or – worse yet – as not of our profession. We must think of them as colleagues, and we must demand that the world look at them in the same way as it looks at us.
A door closed in the face of a blogger is a door closed in the face of every one of us. An independent journalist denied access to a press conference is merely a forerunner to one of us here being denied the next time. A freelancer kidnapped or injured or killed is a gaping, hurting wound on the entire profession.
We dishonour ourselves if we dishonour those who report in different ways or with different tools or with different employment statuses. We who have some position and status within our countries have an obligation to ensure that our colleagues who don’t currently have that respect get it. We must ensure that any protections that come to us also go to them.
Then, we must lobby and advocate for better access, better safety protections and an end to impunity for crimes against journalists. This is a convention of journalists with strong ties in their home bases. Many here are from national news agencies. The struggle must begin at home.
There is no country that has a perfect record in terms of access to information or safety for journalists. Every single one of our nations must do better. We can help make that happen.
When you leave this conference and return home, meet with policy makers. Insist that UN resolution 2222 be implemented fully and completely and that your country take a strong stand in favour of its spirit.
Meet with policy makers and insist that issues of journalistic access and safety extend beyond conflict zones and into the arena of domestic reporting, no matter how sensitive that may be. Make the case that journalism, no matter how uncomfortable, is for the good of society and that the legitimacy of that society is dependent on transparency.
Progress must begin at home, and we who are in this room and in this organisation have a privileged position with which to press the case Our profession has no meaning unless we are working in the service of truth and transparency. We cannot accept doors being slammed in our faces, lights being turned out on us and guns being trained on our bodies.
Let’s open the doors, turn on the lights and push the guns aside. Let’s call out against justice systems that allow impunity for crimes against journalists. Show them for what they are: enablers of crimes against truth. Let’s take a side, and insist that our nations’ leaders take a side, in favour of free flow of information, freedom of expression and freedom from the fear that just, honest, truthful reporting can get the journalist jailed or killed.
Those who are doing the reporting on the ground, in the conflict zones, in the records office, and in the corrupt localities are being incredibly brave.
Let us – we who are in the editors’ chairs, we who are in the executive suites, we who are in the conference centres, safe behind the front lines – let us match their bravery by supporting their rights to exist, be free, be safe and be full members of our profession.
A journalist is not a soldier, but he or she does fight for a cause. A pen is not a menace, but it is a weapon in the fight for truth and justice. A camera is not a gun, but it is a tool in the fight to record society for what it is.
And we need to ensure this fight is fought in safety.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1479899967488-4da3e1f3-2169-1″ taxonomies=”6564″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
7 Oct 2016 | Magazine, Russia
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Remembering murdered Russian journalist Anna Politkovskaya
In 2002, the well-known Russian journalist Anna Politkovskaya, was living in Vienna. She had been sent there for her own safety by Dmitry Muratov, editor-in-chief of her newspaper Novaya Gazeta, after she received threats from high-ranking officials over her reports from Chechnya and her criticism of Vladimir Putin’s regime. Her life remained under threat and she was largely confined to her home. She filed this article to Index on Censorship magazine (vol. 31,1) in spring 2002, shortly before she won Index’s Freedom of Expression Award. Four years later in October 2006, she was shot dead in her apartment building after returning to Moscow.
Just before my last trip to Chechnya in mid-September my colleagues at Novaya Gazeta began to receive threats and were told to pass on the message that I shouldn’t go to Chechnya any more. If I did, my life would be in danger. As always, our paper has its ‘own people’ on the general staff and the ministry of defence — people who broadly share our views. We spoke to people at the ministry but, despite their advice, I did go back to Chechnya, only to find myself blockaded in the capital, Grozny. The city was sealed off after a series of strange events. Controls were so tight you couldn’t even move between different districts within the city, let alone make your way out of Grozny on foot. On that day, 17 September, a helicopter carrying a commission headed by Major-General Anatoly Pozdnyakov from the general staff in Moscow was shot down directly over the city. He was engaged in work quite unprecedented for a soldier in Chechnya.
Only an hour before the helicopter was shot down, he told me the task of his commission was to gather data on crimes committed by the military, analyse their findings, put them in some order and submit the information for the president’s consideration. Nothing of the kind had been done before. Their helicopter was shot down almost exactly over the city centre. All the members of the commission perished and, since they were already on their way to Khankala airbase to take a plane back to Moscow, so did all the material they had collected.
That part of the story was published by Novaya Gazeta. Before the 19 September issue was sent to the printers, our chief editor Dmitry Muratov was summoned to the ministry of defence (or so I understand) and asked to explain how on earth such allegations could be made. He gave them an answer, after which the pressure really began. There should be no publication, he was told. Nevertheless, he decided to go ahead, publishing a very truncated version of what I had written.
At that point, the same people at the ministry who had claimed our report was false now conceded it was true. But they began to warn of new threats: they had learned that certain people had run out of patience with my articles. It was, in other words, the same kind of conversation as before my last trip to Chechnya. Then we heard that a particular officer, a Lieutenant Larin, whom I had described in print as a war criminal, was sending letters to the newspaper and similar notes to the ministry. The deaths and torture of several people lie on his conscience and the evidence against him is incontrovertible. Soon there were warnings that I’d better stay at home. Meanwhile, the internal affairs ministry would track down and arrest this self-appointed military hitman, and deputy minister Vasilyev would himself take charge of the operation.
I was supposed to remain at our apartment and go nowhere. But they made no progress in finding Larin, and I began to realise that this was simply another way of forcing me to stop work. The newspaper decided I should leave the country until the editors were sure I could again live a normal life and resume my work.
The paper was forced to omit from my story the sort of detail that is vital to the credibility of an article like this, which suggested the military themselves had downed the helicopter. All my subsequent difficulties began with those details. If these details surface, the ministry of defence warned our chief editor, that’s the end for you . . .
In fact, since I was moving around the city at the time, I can personally testify to what happened, as can others who were there with me. And these were no ordinary citizens: among them were Chechen policemen and Grozny Energy Company employees who, like me, were trapped inside the city. FSB [former KGB] General Platonov was also there. Currently, he is a deputy to Anatoly Chubais, chief executive of United Energy Systems, a key Kremlin player throughout the 1990s and a hawk on Chechnya. All these saw and knew exactly what I know. Platonov is not only Chubais’s deputy but remains a deputy to FSB director Patrushev (in early 2001, the ‘anti- terrorist operation’ in Chechnya was transferred from the military command of the Combined Forces Group to the FSB and its director Patrushevin Moscow placed in overall charge). No one else saw and knew as much about what happened as Platonov — he couldn’t help but see it. Not one person was allowed into the city centre after 9am that morning. And yet a helicopter was downed there.
Different branches of the military are split over future policy in Chechnya. There are good reasons why the recent public statements of defence ministry spokesmen all repeat the same phrases: ‘We deny the possibility of negotiations’; ‘It’s out of the question’; ‘We are just doing our job.’ Indeed they are: their ‘sweep and cleanse’ operations have become even more brutal. Let us suppose that those representing certain other branches of the military on the ground in Chechnya are pursuing a rather different policy. That is where you should seek the reason for the deaths of all the commission members. I’m just a small cog in that machine — someone who happened to be in the thick of events when no other journalists were around.
Those who want to continue fighting seem to have the upper hand; they represent the more powerful section within the so-called CFG, the Combined Forces Group. To avoid repetition of the disastrous lack of coordination between ministries of defence and internal affairs and the FSB during the first Chechen conflict in 1994—96, overall command of army, police and other paramilitary and special units (CFG) in the present war was given to the military. Although the FSB supposedly now exercise overall control of the ‘anti-terrorist operation’, the military are too strong for them. On the fateful day the helicopter was downed and the commission perished, not even servicemen and officers were permitted to enter the central, cordoned-off area of Grozny. Only defence ministry officials were allowed through. Even FSB and ministry of justice people were kept out; that was extraordinary. No one was permitted to enter the area where the helicopter was about to fall: representatives of other military bodies and organisations, even ranking officers, had no right to go there.
I don’t think we should expect too much from the defence ministry, nor from President Putin [in the light of the US-led campaign in Afghanistan. Ed]. He has received carte blanche to take the measures and employ the forces he considers necessary in Chechnya. I’m thinking of Prime Minister Blair’s recent activities and words spoken by Chancellor Schroeder when Putin was visiting Germany. As you know, it was then said that Europe should re-examine its stance on Chechnya.
Their position was already pretty feeble and bore no relation to the real state of affairs in Chechnya and the abuse of human rights there. If, however, they are going t o alter their position, then it’s clear what will happen. I n practical terms they’ll support Putin. Whatever he does will be fine by them. I think he’s been working steadily and persistently towards that end for some time. And I’m sure he’ll make good use of it now. Not for the first time in the present war, there’s been a battle to see whose nerve is stronger. Putin held back [over the West’s ‘anti-terrorist operation’] for some while: we shan’t support the Northern Alliance in Afghanistan, he said, but we’ll offer them back-up. Then he agreed to supply them with arms and, evidently, advisers. In exchange he received a free hand in Chechnya. That’s the way things are likely to go, I’m afraid.
I can’t say when it will happen, but whatever happens there will be a more intensive ‘liquidation of Chechen partisans’. As always in Russia, however, it all depends on the methods to be used. What will the ‘liquidation of Chechen bandits’ amount to this time? Will they herd everyone else into concentration camps or hold repeated sweep operations in all the population centres in Chechnya?
I can’t answer for Chechen President Maskhadov, but will offer a brief analysis of his actions. In my view, he is doing nothing whatsoever. He has retreated into his shell and is thinking, to the exclusion of all else, about his own immediate future — he’s forgotten the Chechen nation. Just as the federal authorities in Moscow have abandoned the Chechens, so now have the other side. The nation has to fend for itself, with no leadership or protection. It survives as best it can. If people need to take revenge for their tortured and murdered relatives, they will. If they need to say nothing, they’ll keep their mouths shut. In such circumstances, which are the equivalent of a civil war, and under continuing pressure from the federal forces, no one today can say whom the Chechen nation would vote for if elections were held. No one now has any idea whom they’d elect and in that respect everyone has committed the same enormous mistake.
Maskhadov has obviously been driven into a corner. But the struggle for independence has become an obsession with him: he will hear of nothing else. I don’t really understand what use independence will be to him, when he, Shamil Basayev and his immediate bodyguard are all that’s left. The first duty of a president is to fight for the well-being of his nation. I have my own president and it makes no difference that I personally did not vote for Putin. He remains the most important figure in the Russian state. And I’d like him to enable me, and everyone else, to live a normal life. I’m referring to the laws that should govern our existence. I find myself in a situation, however, where no one gives a damn how I survive. I’m cut off from my family. I don’t know what will happen in the future to my two children. It is not law that rules Russia today. There’s no person and no organisation to which you can turn and be certain that the laws have any force.
I have no thoughts about my future. And that’s the worst of all. I just want everything to change so I can go back and live in Moscow again. I can’t imagine spending any length of time here. Or in any other place, for that matter. I must do all in my power to return to Moscow. But I have no idea when that will be.
If people in my country have no protection from this lawless regime, that means I survive here while others are dying. Over the last year I’ve been in that position too often. People who were my witnesses and informants in Chechnya have died for that reason, and that reason alone, as soon as I left their homes. If it again proves the case, then how can I go on living abroad while others are dying in my place?
[/vc_column_text][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”78078″ img_size=”full”][/vc_column_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][vc_column_text]In the autumn 2016 issue of Index on Censorship magazine, Russian journalist Andrey Arkhangelsky reflected on Politkovskaja’s legacy 10 years on, and looks at the state of journalism in the country today. You can get your copy here, or take out a digital subscription from anywhere in the world via Exact Editions (just £18* for the year). Each magazine sale helps Index on Censorship fight for free expression worldwide.
*Will be charged at local exchange rate outside the UK.
Copies will be available at the BFI, the Serpentine Gallery, MagCulture, (London), News from Nowhere (Liverpool), Home (Manchester), Red Line Books (Colchester) and on Amazon. Each magazine sale helps Index on Censorship continue its fight for free expression worldwide.
The full contents page of the magazine can be read here.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”12″ style=”load-more” items_per_page=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1535620669542-cd67c3af-4d46-5″ taxonomies=”1305″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
6 Oct 2016 | Europe and Central Asia, Magazine, Russia, Student Reading Lists, Volume 45.03 Autumn 2016 Extras
A man lays flowers near the picture of murdered journalist Anna Politkovskaya, during a rally in Moscow, Russia, 7 October 2009. CREDIT: EPA / Alamy Stock Photo
On 7 October 2006 investigative journalist Anna Politkovskaya was shot and killed in her apartment building in Moscow. In the latest issue of Index on Censorship magazine, Russian journalist Andrey Arkhangelsky reflects on Politkovskaya’s legacy 10 years on and looks at the state of journalism in the country today.
Politkovskaya, who worked for newspaper Novaya Gazetta, was known for her investigative reporting, particularly looking into the atrocities committed by Russian armed forces in Chechnya, and her criticism of the Putin administration.
She was a recipient of an Index on Censorship Freedom of Expression Award in 2002.
Ahead of the anniversary of her death, Index has compiled a reading list of articles written for the magazine both by Politkovskaya and about her. The collection also includes articles exploring media freedom in Russia and why the deaths are Russian journalists seem to go unnoticed and uninvestigated.
From The Cadet Affair: the Disappeared; an extract, written by Anna Politkovskaya, was published in the winter 2010 issue of Index on Censorship magazine
From The Cadet Affair: the Disappeared
December 2010; vol. 39, 4: pp. 209-210.
In 2010 Index published this extract from Nothing But the Truth: Selected Dispatches, a collection of Politkovskaya’s best writings. In this piece, she writes about the disappeared in Chechnya.
Standing Alone
January 2002; vol. 31, 1: pp. 30-34.
An interview with Politkovskaya who, at the time of publication, was living in Vienna, having been sent there for her own safety by Dmitry Muratov, editor-in-chief of Noveya Gazetta, after receiving threats from high-ranking officials who had been annoyed by her reports from Chechnya.
Codes of conduct
March 2012; vol. 41, 1: pp. 85-95.
Irena Maryniak considers the hidden network of relationships that continue to shape Russian society, undermine the rule of law and protect the status quo. In this article Maryniak highlights Politkovskaya’s concerns of the effects of the Kremlin’s reach and her work reporting on the atrocities inflicted on the Chechen population by the Russian armed forces and the Russian-backed administration of Akhmad Kadyrov.
Years of Living Dangerously
November 2009; vol. 38, 4: pp. 44-58.
Grit in the engine by Robert McCrum, in the 40 year anniversary issue of Index on Censorship magazine.
Maria Eismont talks to Dmitry Muratov, editor of the newspaper Novaya Gazeta, at which Politkovskaya spent seven years as a journalist, about his struggle for press freedom and justice in Russia.
Stopping the Killers
November 2009; vol. 38, 4: pp. 31-43.
In this article Joel Simon, of the Committee to Protect Journalists, discusses how impunity is an urgent issue facing press freedom campaigners; and, after reflecting on Politkovskaya’s murder, outlines a roadmap for action
The Big Squeeze
February 2008; vol. 37, 1: pp. 26-34.
Edward Lucas explains how during Putin’s presidency media freedom has moved from the imperfect to the moribund, in an adaption from his book The New Cold War: how the Kremlin menaces Russia and the West.
Grit in the engine
March 2012; vol. 41, 1: pp. 12-20.
Into the Future; Index interviews Anna Politkovskaya in the winter 2005 issue of Index on Censorship magazine.
Robert McCrum considers Index’s role in the history of the fight for free speech, from the oppression of the Cold War to censorship online; and highlights how Politkovskaya turned to Index for help in making the west understand the dangers Russian journalists face.
Into the Future
November 2005; vol. 34, 4: pp. 120-125.
Index interviews Politkovskaya at the Edinburgh Festival, in which she discusses the future of Russia.
“We lost journalism in Russia”
September 2015; vol. 44, 3: pp. 32-35.
Andrei Aliaksandrau examines the evolution of censorship in Russia, from Soviet institutions to today’s blend of influence and pressure.
Power of the pen
December 2010; vol. 39, 4: pp. 17-23.
Carole Seymour-Jones celebrates the achievements of 50 years of fighting for authors’ freedoms and explains why there is so much more work to be done.
You can read Andrey Arkhangelsky’s article by subscribing to the magazine or taking out a digital subscription from anywhere in the world via Exact Editions (just £18* for the year). Each magazine sale helps Index on Censorship fight for free expression worldwide.
*Will be charged at local exchange rate outside the UK.
Magazines are also on sale in bookshops, including at the BFI and MagCulture in London, News from Nowhere in Liverpool and Home in Manchester; as well as on Amazon and iTunes. MagCulture will ship to anywhere in the world.
