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]
20 Aug 2018 | Azerbaijan, Media Freedom, media freedom featured, News and features, Russia, Turkey, Ukraine
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner][vc_single_image image=”102216″ img_size=”full”][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][vc_column_text]Visitors to Eurasian countries — Turkey, Russia, Ukraine or, to a lesser extent, Azerbaijan — might be impressed by the sheer number of domestic television channels that offer news programming.
The average TV viewer in Turkey flipping through the local channels is treated to an alphabet soup — atv, Kanal D, NTV, STV, interspersed with FOX TV, CNN Türk, public broadcaster TRT and countless others — all employing a vast number of journalists and purporting to keep the viewers abreast of events shaping the domestic and global agenda. The broadcasts are slick: filled with chyrons, attention-grabbing graphics, remote reports, breaking news, heated exchanges between talking heads and all the other trappings of the modern-day 24-hour news cycle.
Watching the lively debates hosted by TV personalities, who exude an air of professionalism and discernment, with or without live audiences nodding in acquiescence or registering disapproval, viewers may be given the impression that they are being exposed to a wide range of opinions in a vibrant, competitive media market.
But does this wealth of channels translate into pluralism of points of view?
“Certainly not,” says Esra Arsan, journalism scholar and former columnist for Turkey’s Evrensel, one of the remaining newspapers supplying alternative news and commentary left in the country. “In Turkey, there’s no pluralistic media environment. The Turkish media have never been pluralistic in the true sense of the word, but at least there were once mechanisms that allowed for the voices of the right, left, mainstream and fringe wings to be heard, especially, on small media groups occupying the niche space,” she says, citing the formerly independent Turkish-language media, their Kurdish-language counterparts and those of other minority groups.
Arsan described the massive media reorganisation that took place in parallel with the rise of president Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s AKP party since 2007. “It was characterised by replacing the old media owners with the new ones with close ties to the government, and exercising total control over them, especially, in big media,” she adds.
During the Erdogan-inspired restructuring of the media, professional journalists and newsroom managers were forced out or jailed, Arsan says. The replacement managers left a lot to be desired. “Many of these people are uneducated, have no idea of journalistic ethics or professionalism, they’ve become the mouthpieces for the government”. She points out that more than 3,000 professional journalists who were working prior to 2007 are now jobless.
“Nowadays, no matter how many television broadcasters there are in Turkey, we can say the government exercises control over 90 percent of them,” says Ceren Sözeri, a communications faculty member at Istanbul’s Galatasaray University, citing a recent study conducted by Reporters Without Borders.
“Among the channels not under government control were stations belonging to Doğan Group, such as Kanal D and CNN Türk. Very recently, it was sold to Demirören Group, a conglomerate with close ties to the government,” Sözeri says.
Among the TV channels that are still able to provide diversity in the face of the pro-government news she tentatively cites FOX TV, Tele1 and HalkTV, the latter being associated with the CHP, the main opposition party. “With these exceptions, almost all other remaining channels work in conformity with the government, we can say we have an environment completely devoid of diversity,” Sözeri says.
Driven by Erdogan’s efforts to build a single-party regime, this media reorganisation pursued the goal of controlling information disseminated in the country. Buffered by the concurrent changes to the constitution and legal reforms, the jailing of journalists started to rise as well.
If this sounds familiar, that’s because it should: “What [Russian president] Putin did since he came to power, was establish control over influential media outlets that had the capacity to form public opinion, firstly, TV,” notes Gulnoza Said, Europe and Central Asia research associate at the Committee to Protect Journalists.
“All federal channels are very tightly controlled by the state now, with the instructions sent to the heads of TV companies on how to report on certain situations. It’s very clear that anybody who appears on your screen on a federal channel in Russia knows how they can and cannot speak about important and critical issues like Ukraine and Syria,” she says noting the two hot-button issues around Russia’s ongoing military involvement abroad.
According to the latest numbers released by the Media and Law Studies Association, a Turkish non-profit that offers legal protection to the rising number of journalists who find themselves in the crosshairs of the government, with 173 journalists in jail, Turkey currently holds the dubious title of the regional leader.
With 10 journalists currently in jail, according to a CPJ report, Azerbaijan is a distant second in the region, and number one among the former Soviet nations. Russia has five, according to the same report.
In addition to the state-owned AzTV and Ictimai (Public) TV that was created in 2005 as part of the country’s commitments before the Council of Europe, there are four nationwide broadcasters in Azerbaijan: Atv, Xazar, Space and Lider.
Azerbaijani media rights lawyer Alasgar Mammadli says that all these channels fail to inject diversity into the discourse in his country because no outlet presents a balanced viewpoint.
“The media only cover the government’s point of view. Considering the realities of Azerbaijan where the majority of information is obtained through TV and radio, we not only don’t have access to objective information, there’s no room for pluralistic news, we only have one expression, one colour.” He calls it “propaganda coming from the government that is disseminated to a large swath of the public,” noting that the internet is the only place offering some semblance of pluralism.
“In the entire region, I’d probably not name a single country where we’ve seen a positive trend, with the slight exception of, surprisingly, Uzbekistan,” says CPJ’s Said, noting that with the new administration of president Shavkat Mirziyoyev there has been a process of liberalisation, and for the first time in more than two decades, there are no journalists in jail.
Said notes that another negative trend is very visible in Ukraine since Russia annexed its region of Crimea in 2014. “At the time, after the Euromaidan [the wave of civil unrest that resulted in the government change], the Ukrainian media space had been relatively free for some time, but right now what we see is that the authorities are trying to control the flow of information, and the attempts are very visible and quite strong.”
Said explains that Ukrainian journalists are facing obstacles practically every day, stressing that she is not talking about Russian journalists trying cover the news from Ukraine. “The [Ukrainian] Ministry of Defense is making it extremely difficult for local journalists to get the so-called ‘military accreditation’ that would allow them to go to the eastern part of the country and cover combat operations,” says Said, adding that one of the newly imposed requirements is that the journalists applying for accreditation must provide previously written stories about the conflict.
“I would say it is censorship, because the government is trying to control the way the journalists cover the conflict,” she points out.
Galina Petrenko, director of Detector Media, a Ukrainian media watchdog organisation, disagrees: “There is pluralism [in Ukraine]. The economic interests doubtless manipulate the discourse, as the largest media belong not to the government, but to oligarchs, formidable businessmen conjoined with the power. That’s why business interests of each of these owners are reflected in the content of the media they own.”
Ukraine’s TV and radio council puts the number of the national TV broadcasters at 30, in addition to 72 regional channels. The country counts 120 satellite TV channels.
Maria Tomak of the Kyiv-based Media Initiative for Human Rights in Kyiv says that oligarchic ownership of the media has implications for pluralism. “We do have the freedom of speech, in comparison with Russia and other nations, but we do have limitations that are sometimes very tricky and are related to the economic factors, since we don’t have all that many independent media.”
She says that there is more than one “clan” or “group of influence” engaged in a struggle for power and influence. This conflict more or less preserves a tenuous pluralism. “When they start ‘oligarchic wars’, TVs show documentary footage or run news stories that clearly indicate who calls the shots at a particular channel. They mudsling or broadcast expose-style programmes, but it’s hard to call them objective, and it is hard to call it pluralism in its ideal sense.”
Bad examples are contagious
“The countries of the region quite often and quite speedily learn from each other’s negative experience,” says Mammadli. “For instance, Azerbaijan started officially blocking sites in February of 2017 through amendments to legislation. Before that, it was prevalent in Turkey and Russia.” He adds that the majority of the blocked sites are related to the alternative news sources. Mammadli puts the number of the internet sites and resources blocked in Russia at more than 136,000.
“We live in a region neighbouring Russia and Turkey and share ties with them, which speeds up the migration of these experiences into our country. Thus, the negative changes or attitudes towards human rights or the tendencies to limit freedom and rule of law in these countries can come to our country very fast,” he says. “It turns into a competition with the following logic, ‘the neighbor did it and got away with it, so let me try and see what happens’.’’
CPJ’s Said notes that these traditionally autocratic regimes keep one eye on the USA, which has been regarded as the flagman of press freedom and liberal democracy for decades. “Everybody used to look up at the USA, but since Trump was elected president, you know his routine, he wakes up in the middle of the night and starts tweeting, attacking journalists and critical media, calling everything they produce ‘fake news’.”
In her view, this definitely affects global press freedom, as dictators and elected officials with autocratic tendencies step up their pressure on critical media outlets in their own countries.
Arsan says of the effects of this phenomenon in Turkey: “If the dictator says the news is wrong or fake, even if you bring the most truthful news to them, be it on the issue of the human rights, war, the economy, the people will tend to disbelieve you. This makes the job of a journalist that much harder, because we chase the truth, and we see the tendency to disbelieve or outright denial on behalf of the audience.”
“Vulnerable stability” as the dangerous consequence
The shrinking plurality in the media throughout the entire region leads to a somewhat distorted processes of decision making during elections, says Said.
“The lack of plurality, which is a lack of democratic process or access to such, does, in general, make any society more vulnerable. If we look at the situation inside any country, also, when you look at dictators like Putin, you may get an impression that their power is very stable and strong. But that’s a very vulnerable stability,” she adds, explaining it with the fact that it is, ultimately, one person making decisions for the entire country of millions of people.
“If you look at what Erdogan has been doing for the last 10 years or so, he has been pursuing the policy of turning Turkey into a regional leader and suppressing any alternative voice. Same with Putin and his foreign policy in Ukraine with the annexation of Crimea, or Syria. In a way, it is back to the USSR, where people could discuss things only among their family or close friends in their kitchens.”
In the opinion of Arsan, as media plurality shrinks, societies become increasingly unaware of crises, which might set them on a path to disintegration. “This is the process of criminalising political discussion,” she said. “This is common in many Eurasian countries, as well as in the Middle East. These are the dictatorships without an end. People don’t want to go to the ballot boxes anymore because they don’t think they can effect change.”
For Mammadli, the people’s inability to access true information and analyse it means that they are contending with mass propaganda. From this point of view, the societies where people don’t know the truth will base their reactions on a lie, he says.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/4″][vc_column_text]
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Media freedom is under threat worldwide. Journalists are threatened, jailed and even killed simply for doing their job.
Index on Censorship documents threats to media freedom in Europe through a monitoring project and campaigns against laws that stifle journalists’ work. We also publish an award-winning magazine featuring work by and about censored journalists.
Learn more about our work defending press freedom.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]
Index on Censorship’s project Mapping Media Freedom tracks limitations, threats and violations that affect media professionals in 43 countries as they do their job.
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31 Jul 2018 | Europe and Central Asia, Germany, Media Freedom, media freedom featured, News and features
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_video link=”https://youtu.be/inBCgA2hPm8″][vc_column_text]Video footage shot by Thomas Kraus shows police violently detaining journalist Marvin Oppong.
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When journalist Marvin Oppong began photographing the scene of an accident involving a police car and a taxi, he was just doing his job. But before long Oppong ended up being violently detained by police and stripped of his camera’s memory card.
“What happened is that I stumbled across something which made the police look bad”, Oppong told Mapping Media Freedom. “That’s why I was treated the way I was. Their objective was to get me, and my evidence, out of the way – with violence if need be. They didn’t want anyone there taking pictures. I had images of the wrecked police vehicle which could be relevant for a future criminal investigation. Taking my evidence might be relevant under criminal law.”
The facts of the incident are clear: Two vehicles collided. A passenger in one of the two cars, a taxi, was seriously injured. The driver of the police car appeared to be at fault. Emergency services and police officers responded. A local journalist turned up to the scene to document the smash-up – the bread and butter work of local news reporters globally.
When a second journalist, freelancer Thomas Kraus, began filming Oppong’s arrest, a police officer tried to stop filming.
Oppong later tweeted that the public prosecutor later said that the police officer was under criminal investigation.
Mapping Media Freedom has verified a number of incidents involving members of the public services interfering with journalists filming events.
In May 2018 MMF reported on the case of firefighters abusing and threatening journalists at the scene of a road traffic accident in the Mecklenburg lake district. The driver was returning from an event run by a volunteer fire service where he was acting as a child minder, and initial reports suggested the responding firefighters believed him to be a member of the volunteer fire service. He was almost one and a half times over the legal drink-drive limit. Firefighters attempted to make journalists leave even though police had given them permission to be at scene. Later that night the journalists received abusive and threatening phone calls and, as a result, a police car was stationed outside their home.
In October 2017 Bild reporter Karl Keim filmed the arrest of a suspect wanted for knife crimes in Munich on his mobile phone. Police ordered him to delete the footage, threatening to confiscate his phone if he did not comply. When he did not immediately obey the police order, he was told “we can just resolve this with physical force if you like?”. In panic Keim unlocked his phone and the officers deleted the footage themselves.
In March 2016 in Munich TAZ journalist Laura Meschede used her phone to film what looked like a particularly brutal arrest. The officer ordered her to stop filming, threatened confiscation of her phone and physically manhandled her. The next day, Meschede found out – from a police press release – that the arrest she had attempted to film was of a man trying to film a third arrest and, according to police, “got physical” when asked to stop.
“This kind of thing is happening more often”, said Sven Adam, a lawyer who represents journalists on the receiving end of police aggression, in an interview for online magazine ZAPP. Lawyer Marco Noli in an interview for national weekly TAZ mentioned that the police increasingly use video themselves for evidence – “but that is their material, which they can edit. There are numerous examples, he told TAZ, of police editing out their own misconduct. “I think this is the reason why police are so vehemently attacking people who film them”, Noli said. “They fear that smartphones could end the era in which they alone get to decide what video material ends up in court.”
In fact, video evidence gathered by police was instrumental in the 27 convictions for offences related to rioting at the G20 summit in Hamburg. Even after critical journalists had their accreditation revoked or not recognised and were beaten and pepper sprayed by police, journalists responded to calls by Hamburg police to share their footage to help identify and prosecute suspects.
Journalists supplied several hundred gigabytes of data, which would correspond to 15 hours or more of video footage. The major German media houses sent all their broadcasted material, and one of their production companies sent all their unused material also. Private broadcaster RTL said they have a duty to assist the authorities when it appears a crime has been committed, also by surrendering unused material, unless it would compromise sources. Public broadcasters NDR and ZDF by contrast say they refuse in all circumstances, as did national daily newspaper Süddeutsche Zeitung. They pointed out that people won’t talk to journalists if journalists can’t protect them, and worse, the danger that people will become openly hostile to journalists, in particular at large events, if they perceive journalists as working hand-in-hand with the authorities rather than as neutral reporters.
In an interview for NDR Hamburg police chief Ralf Martin Meyer stressed the voluntary nature of the co-operation but hinted that things might not necessarily always be so friendly. He said there were circumstances in which police are justified in confiscating material. The police have a duty, he said, to clarify what happened. If they don’t, “they can make themselves criminally liable for aiding a perpetrator of an act after the fact by preventing their prosecution.”
Former Federal Justice Minister Sabine Leutheusser-Schanrrenberger, of the neo-liberal FDP, criticised the police in an interview for public broadcaster NDR: “To require unused material is in my eyes not justified. First and foremost editorial confidentiality applies, first and foremost the freedom of the press and free speech must be protected. This is anchored in law. One cannot require of the media to be a kind of support policeman.”
The ubiquity of smartphones has come into conflict with a keen appreciation of the importance of the right to privacy in Germany, which has robust data protection laws. Germans are more suspicious about social media and don’t use it to share photographs and videos of themselves and each other as much as in other countries. CCTV is much more controversial and tightly controlled in Germany. The German press code tightly limits the circumstances under which journalists may publish the identity or the image of a suspect, defendant or victim.
It is not surprising that this keen sense of privacy in the population as a whole is reflected in police and public services culture. Remarkably, by global law enforcement standards, most German police uniforms do not display an officer’s name or even badge number. Their introduction has been consistently and vehemently opposed by the main police union, GdP, who say they are not necessary, place all officers under a “general suspicion”, and pose a risk to the sanctity of individual officers’ private and home life. Amnesty International has criticised this lack of police accountability in its submission for the UN Universal Periodic Review, noting that even where individual officers can be identified, a further obstacle is that none of Germany’s police forces have a truly independent body to examine complaints against police.
Legally anyone may film police and public services as long as it does not obstruct their work and respects the privacy rights of anyone involved in the incident. Journalists additionally enjoy the constitutionally protected right to practice their profession and freedom of the press.
Tensions are usually resolved by production of a press ID card, which should reassure officers that the journalists are professionals: They won’t obstruct, they won’t trample all over evidence, they won’t take and publish distasteful images of helpless individuals suffering. A spokesperson for the GdP told ZAPP that there are “absolutely no problems with professional journalists on the ground”; police receive extensive training on press law “and the behaviour towards journalists is generally characterised by great tolerance.”
The most respected press ID card in Germany is jointly issued by the six large press associations. There is no special training or exams required to get one. However, they are only available to people who work as professional journalists full time or as their main job Accordingly, they are not available to journalists who work part time and who are not paid.
The police service claims that Oppong was arrested because he never identified himself as a journalist, and that they released him as soon as they established he was.
Oppong disputes the police version of events. “I told them I was a journalist many times but they weren’t interested. They didn’t want to see my press ID card. They didn’t even want to see my ordinary citizens’ ID card until I was in the cell. So I think they didn’t arrest me to ascertain my identity or to check whether I was entitled to take photographs because all that could already have been done at the scene.”
Oppong vehemently rebuts the police story, regurgitated unquestioningly in much of the local media, that his removal from the scene was necessary because he was obstructing the work of responders and trampling all over evidence. “The scene wasn’t cordoned off at any point in time. I always maintained a respectful distance. The video showing the sequence when I was taken into custody also shows people standing in the area in which the police had not allowed me to be in before. It shows that six police officers were participating in taking me into custody. If securing the area had really been so imperative, some of those six might have taken on this task.”
Oppong is facing criminal charges for resisting arrest, assault on police and violation of privacy rights by taking pictures. As well as defending these charges, Oppong is pursuing criminal charges against the officers involved including misconduct in public office and false imprisonment.
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