24 Mar 2022 | News and features, Russia, Ukraine
A Ukrainian journalist detained by Russia’s FSB while reporting on the invasion of the country has been forced to record a video saying that she had not been held captive and that her captors had actually saved her life before being released.
Victoria Roshchina, who works for the hromadske news channel, was released on 21 March, nine days after she went missing in the occupied city of Berdyansk en route to Mariupol. Four days after she went incommunicado, hromadske learned that she had been detained by Russia’s FSB security forces.
She has now returned to Zaporizhia, an area controlled by the Ukrainian government, where she will rejoin her worried family.
After her release, pro-Russian media and Telegram-channels shared a video in which Roshchina denied she had been held in captivity and that the officers had saved her life.
Her employer said that the video was filmed under coercion of the Russian occupiers and that the reporter would tell the true story in due course.
We reported about Roshchina’s reports from the front line and how she had been forced to hide from Russian tanks.
Although Roschina has been freed, the whereabouts of other journalists reporting from the front line is uncertain.
Renowned Ukrainian photojournalist and documentary filmmaker Maks Levin disappeared on 13 March in the Vishgorod district, near Kyiv. There had been intensive fighting in the area and it is assumed he has been injured or captured by Russian troops.
Levin has worked for the BBC, Reuters, the Wall Street Journal and new website LB.ua among others.
Index on Censorship calls for the immediate and unconditional release of all journalists held by the Russian forces and for all parties to ensure the safety of media reporting on the war.
18 Mar 2022 | News and features, Russia, Statements, Ukraine
Victoria Roschina (or Roshchina), a journalist who works for the Ukrainian news channel we wrote about earlier this week, has gone missing while reporting on the war in the country and is believed to have been detained by Russian FSB security forces.
On 11 March, according to hromadske, Roschina left the city of Energodar to travel to Mariupol to report on what was really going on in the city, which has been shelled by Russian troops every day for more than two weeks.
The TV station has been unable to contact Roschina since 12 March when she is known to have been in the occupied city of Berdyansk.
On 16 March, the station learned that Roschina had been detained by the Russian FSB but nothing is known about her whereabouts.
“For two days we made every effort to release the journalist in a private manner. But it turned out to be ineffective. Therefore, we call on the Ukrainian and international community to join in the information and action to the release of hromadske journalist Victoria Roschina,” the channel said in a statement.
The channel (whose name means public) was founded originally as an independent TV station and prides itself on its freedom from control by oligarchs or the state even after Yanukovych was forced to flee by the “Maidan” protests of 2014. Over the years journalists at the station have adapted to shifts in the media landscape and now streams topical videos on YouTube and Facebook with special reports every Tuesday and Thursday.
In a Facebook post published before she disappeared, Roschina said she would “never forgive Russia”.
She wrote: “The other day I came across a column of Russian tanks in the Zaporozhzhya region. On the way there I saw a burnt car, a little further another with the burnt body of a man next to it. As it turned out, he was a civilian from the village.
“Then – the roar of tanks, the white letter Z, the flag of the Russian Federation. They came out of the turn and headed in our direction.
“Me and the driver switched to reverse gear and tried to turn around. The Russians began to ‘work’ [e.g. shoot] us actively. First bullets, and then red-hot shells. Fortunately, they flew by. I commanded the driver to stop, drop the car and lie down in the field. But the columns came in our direction and an abandoned house came to our rescue, behind [which we] waited for the Russian military hardware to pass by.
“Then we were saved by good people. While we were hiding, our car was opened although it had a PRESS sticker. They took away my laptop, camera, backpack…and the driver’s cigarettes.
“No connection, no light. Tanks on both sides of the village. We are surrounded and unable to pass on information. The scariest thing under occupation is night. Dawn still inspires hope for the best. In our case it did not start with shelling or [hiding in] the basement. Around 150 units of Russian hardware moved towards our peaceful villages. I went on reconnaissance on foot. Due to the stress, I felt neither tired, nor cold, nor afraid.
“I went to the regions to cover what is going on there and what people think. People who have been living without communication all this time, at the gunpoint of machine guns, [threatened by] MLRS Grad [rockets] and the rumble of Russian tanks.
“In small villages and towns, the occupiers feel that they’re ‘heroes’ [but they] shoot civilians, set cars on fire, kill, loot. They turn people’s lives into hell, traumatise the children. They took away my gear, but won’t take away the desire to tell the truth about their crimes.
“This time I was probably saved by a miracle once again.
“But I will never forgive Russia. Never. They will burn in hell. And they will definitely stand trial.”
Roschina is just one of a number of journalists and activists that have been detained in occupied areas of Ukraine according to our sources.
Index CEO Ruth Smeeth said, “Index on Censorship has always supported independent journalism throughout the world and the detention of reporters trying to report the facts can never be justified. Index on Censorship calls for the immediate and unconditional release of Victoria Roschina and other journalists held by the Russian forces.”
9 Feb 2022 | News and features
Since returning home to the Democratic Republic of Congo in the winter of 2020, after spending several years travelling throughout Africa, I found the winds of change blowing over the country. Expectations were high that these winds would bring new freedoms, including freedom of expression and the media, which had been overlooked under the old administration.
But it was not to be. I quickly found that yesterday’s victims – the current ruling party leaders – had turned into the new oppressors. Journalists and thought leaders, even musicians, were arrested, threatened, taken to court and jailed. Others would self-censor to avoid trouble. They did not want to get in trouble with the authorities. The new leader of the DRC, Felix Tshisekedi, failed in his promise to protect the media, just like previous leaders had.
DRC leader Felix Tshisekedi, who has presided over a crackdown on the press. Credit: www.kremlin.ru/Wikimedia
Many would decry the way I reported, saying that I was putting myself in danger. But I was trained in South Africa, where the media is more free. I didn’t want to self-censor. So when Index on Censorship asked me to write about Tshisekedi’s failed promises to put the media first, I accepted.
I did not realise then quite how much it would put me in danger. A few weeks after filing, I was told that those in power were angered by my article and that spies were being sent to look for me. I also heard allegations that a list of anti-regime journalists had been issued by ruling party supporters – each person to be hunted down. Apparently, my name was on that list.
The weeks that followed were a sort of hell. I slept uneasily, fearing for my life. My wife and I were separated – pending a divorce – and on a level that felt like a blessing. At least I knew she and our children would be safe, away from me. If a hitman came to finish me off, I would die alone, and spare the lives of our kids.
I wanted to leave the capital city, my birthplace, but I did not know where to go. At the time I was staying in a hotel due to the breakup of my marriage. I quickly packed a suitcase with my clothes. While I wasn’t sure exactly when or if someone would come for me, I couldn’t take the risk. I left in haste. I didn’t even have time to pick up my trousers and shirt that were being repaired at a makeshift dressmaker.
The money I had was very little. It would be hard to purchase a ticket to West Africa, a region that I love and that I believe is one of the world’s underreported zones. With the money that I did have, I travelled to the troubled east of the country. It wasn’t a decision made lightly. Rather from there it would be relatively easy to cross the border into other, safer countries.
In the DRC’s east many journalists have been killed and others threatened in recent years. The media work under duress. They face threats and attacks from security forces and intelligence agencies, and from armed groups. For example, in October 2020 a radio journalist went into hiding after army generals threatened to kill her.
While there I was told that I had to be very careful; two gunmen in army uniforms had come looking for a journalist near where I was staying. Once again, I started to make plans to leave, and this time round to leave the DRC for good. Again, I had very little money. Index fortunately gave me an advance on my next article, which really helped. It was time to go. Before it is too late.
I went first by ship, the whole night, 100.4 km to the south, then by car crisscrossing mountains, hills and valleys, another 100 km further south, all amid the presence of dozens of armed groups.
I finally made it safely out of the “danger zone”. I was out of reach, both from the government, its army, and militia.
But new challenges quickly emerged. On the way to where I was supposed to go to be able to seek refuge I was robbed. My laptop was taken and all my money. Those who robbed us said that if we ever tried to report the incident to the authorities they would hunt us down. Again, silenced and gagged.
Back to square one. Those days were a struggle. Minimal food and money, no laptop, no phone, no permanent place to stay. I felt hopeless and helpless in a strange country.
I worried about where I would sleep and eat and also about the stories I would struggle to report.
These beautiful and exciting lands have been transformed into a hostile zone run by political leaders who hate the media. I long for West Africa – “my second home”. I want to go there and be at peace and rest. Not to retire though, no, because I firmly believe that I was born to write, expose, criticise and hold the powerful to account.
This account was given to Index in January. Since then the writer has managed to leave the DRC and is reporting for Index in the upcoming 50th anniversary special issue.
2 Feb 2022 | Europe and Central Asia, News and features, Russia, Ukraine
A journalist covering a demonstration in Kyiv, Ukraine, August 2020. Credit: Oleksandr Polonskyi/Shutterstock
While media crews from around the world are arriving in Ukraine to cover the situation amid a build-up of Russian troops on Ukraine’s border, local journalists are trying to overcome the many obstacles that stand in the way of their media freedom. The working environment is challenging: from disinformation campaigns and orchestrated propaganda to limited resources in newsrooms, attacks on journalists and the often inadequate response of law enforcement.
In Ukraine, the armed conflict has been going on for almost eight years, ever since Russia annexed the Crimean peninsula and put armed forces in eastern Ukraine. In the wake of this, the Ukraine government has trod a difficult path as they have tried to balance media freedom and plurality against the risks that could be posed from an unregulated media landscape. They have not always made the right decisions. For example, one year ago, President Volodymyr Zelensky imposed sanctions that resulted in three TV channels associated with a pro-Russian politician – ZIK, NewsOne and 112 Ukraine – being taken off air. While some Ukrainian media experts supported the move, others saw it as repressive and criticised the authorities because they bypassed legal procedures and did not provide enough information to justify emergency restrictive measures.
At the same time Ukraine does face a real problem when it comes to misinformation. The ecosystem of online platforms and various social media in Ukraine that are being used by both state, influential non-state and political players is extensive. According to a report from Freedom House, paid commentators and trolls have proliferated Ukraine’s online public space. In many cases, these online platforms are anonymous and are spreading and amplifying messages that benefit the Russian government and seek to destabilise the Ukrainian political landscape. Many of these accounts have tens of thousands of subscribers and are being used by interested parties from inside or outside the country. They spread anything from malicious disinformation to banal clickbait to attract news audiences and they also attack journalists. According to the Institute of Mass Information survey, the majority of Ukrainian journalists have experienced some form of cyberbullying.
Independent journalists suffer from the damage related to misinformation, and their day-to-day duties are not easy either. Media workers in Ukraine are often defenseless against attacks and police responses to them can be inadequate. About 100 Ukrainian media workers were physically assaulted in 2021, revealed Ukraine’s National Union of Journalists (NUJU). This is hardly an improvement on the last year, when 101 journalists were physically assaulted.
Despite the tightening of legislation regarding accountability for attacks on journalists, the efficiency of the law enforcement system remains low, so the perpetrators often go unpunished. Several murders of famous journalists have not yet led to the punishment of those responsible. In 2019, Vadim Komarov, a journalist and blogger from Cherkasy, was violently attacked by an unknown person in a city center. Komarov was known for his exposes of corruption. He died in hospital after several months in a coma. Police still haven‘t found the perpetrator and the investigation remains open.
Another frightening example of the violence that Ukrainian journalists encounter in their work is the murder of Pavel Sheremet in 2016. Sheremet, who was a harsh critic of Ukrainian, Belarusian and Russian authorities, died in a car explosion in downtown Kyiv. Three years later, after a new president came to power, the police detained five suspects. The trial is ongoing and as yet no one has been sentenced.
Sometimes difficulties arise from where they were not expected. For example, the NUJU says that rising prices for natural gas and fuel have caused many regional newsrooms to be unable to heat their editorial offices.
It’s hardly a surprise that about 48% of journalists reported self-censoring in the Ukrainian media, according to a 2019 study by the Ilko Kucheriv Democratic Initiatives Foundation. Topics related to patriotism, separatism, terrorism and Russia were the ones most avoided. And almost 65% believe that the war has increased self-censorship. Then there are those who literally get told what to say. For example, former employees of the state TV channel DOM have spoken about censorship by the Office of the President of Ukraine, which has demanded positive news about the president and his initiatives.
Given all of these attacks, how exactly can Ukraine’s journalists hold power to account?
And yet, thanks to the efforts of the journalistic community there is progress, the head of the NUJU Sergiy Tomilenko believes. Representatives of media and journalistic organisations have consistently raised concerns about the safety of journalists publicly and in face-to-face meetings with government officials for years. According to Tomilenko, the police have begun to investigate faster than before, and now see attacks against journalists as what they are – threats to the very nature of their work.
Media freedom and pluralism is crucial in general and no more so now. We need to see more positive change and fast.
