Coolassprov MC
26-04-07, 06:09
On March 4 American soldiers ripped cameras from local reporters in Nangarhar and deleted their pictures after a convoy of marines shot at least 10 people and wounded 33 in the aftermath of a suicide attack. A US commander later justified the deletions on the basis that "untrained" Afghans might "capture visual details that are not as they originally were". A preliminary military inquiry, publicised last week, suggested what those sensitive details could have been: contrary to the soldiers' earlier claims, investigators found that all of the killed civilians had been unarmed. Faced with a swelling insurgency and mounting criticism, Afghanistan's government has also taken a tougher line with the media. Last week three journalists with Tolo, a popular television station, and four from the Associated Press, were detained on orders from the attorney general, Abdul Jabar Sabet, who claimed he had been misrepresented by a reporter."
http://www.guardian.co.uk/afghanistan/story/0,,2065443,00.html
Killers and censors bring fledgling media under fire from all sides
US and Kabul officials get tough with journalists amid growing insurgent violence
Declan Walsh in Kabul
Thursday April 26, 2007
The Guardian
A day after being freed from captivity by the Taliban, the Italian journalist Daniele Mastrogiacomo stepped off a plane in Rome, beaming with relief and raising his arms in a victory salute. But back in Afghanistan his translator, Ajmal Nakshbandi, remained in Taliban hands.
The omens were bad: Mastrogiacomo's driver, Sayed Agha, had already been beheaded, and a week later 25-year-old Nakshbandi was also dead, his throat slit and his body dumped in the desert.
The brutal slaying last month shook Afghanistan's fledgling media, sparked recriminations and highlighted how young local reporters were becoming caught in the crossfire of an increasingly vicious conflict.
All sides consider news as a weapon of war, even those professing to defend press freedom. On March 4 American soldiers ripped cameras from local reporters in Nangarhar and deleted their pictures after a convoy of marines shot at least 10 people and wounded 33 in the aftermath of a suicide attack.
A US commander later justified the deletions on the basis that "untrained" Afghans might "capture visual details that are not as they originally were". A preliminary military inquiry, publicised last week, suggested what those sensitive details could have been: contrary to the soldiers' earlier claims, investigators found that all of the killed civilians had been unarmed.
Faced with a swelling insurgency and mounting criticism, Afghanistan's government has also taken a tougher line with the media. Last week three journalists with Tolo, a popular television station, and four from the Associated Press, were detained on orders from the attorney general, Abdul Jabar Sabet, who claimed he had been misrepresented by a reporter.
"We are coming under fire from all sides," said Rahimullah Samander, president of the Afghan Independent Journalists' Association. "Before everyone wanted to be a journalist. Not any more."
The Afghan media has altered beyond recognition since the Taliban regime, when there was one state-controlled radio station and a handful of religion-obsessed newspapers. Now there are eight TV stations, 400 publications and more than 2,000 journalists, according to Mr Samander.
The media explosion is fuelling social change and a spirit of accountability. Editorials harshly criticise the government of the president, Hamid Karzai, and TV stations feature women presenters, foreign films and racy music videos.
Foreign donors encouraged the local media with a flood of funding before the elections in 2004 and 2005. But over the past year the foreign money has started to dry up. Six daily newspapers have folded, journalists have been laid off and wages have plummeted.
There has been a three-fold increase in suicide attacks this year alone. As the Taliban stepped up its attacks, the government's commitment waned. Last year the state intelligence agency tried to curtail reporting of the insurgency by issuing a list of restrictions to local journalists. A public outcry caused the directive to be withdrawn, but public anger was again stoked over the handling of Mastrogiacomo's release.
Mastrogiacomo, a correspondent for La Repubblica, was freed in exchange for five "high-value" Taliban prisoners and $2m (£1m), said an Afghan official. President Karzai agreed to the controversial deal because he feared Italy would withdraw 1,800 troops from Afghanistan if the journalist died. The Taliban expedited negotiations by beheading his driver then making the panicked Italian record a video plea for help.
But Afghans say that once Mastrogiacomo was safe, Mr Karzai had allowed the Afghan, Nakshbandi, to die in the desert. "Why didn't the government strike a deal for both of them? It didn't take Ajmal seriously," said Farida Nekzad, managing editor of Pajhwok news agency. "In this country we have two policies - one for the internationals, the other for locals."
But the Afghan official, speaking on condition of anonymity, said the story was more complicated, and that the Taliban had never made demands for the release of Nakshbandi, who was killed to "humiliate Mr Karzai". He added: "It was political, just to make the government's name bad."
Journalists also directed their ire at the Italian journalist and La Repubblica for failing to save Nakshbandi. The Union of Italian journalists has offered money to his family, said Mr Samander.
This week the media debate has focused on the Tolo TV controversy. Mr Sabet, a strident conservative, told the Guardian he had been offended by a television report that took his words out of context. "They are not journalists, they are liars," he said. He insisted he was within his rights to detain whoever he wished. "These laws give me the power to summon any person in this country, even the president," he said, waving a book of legislation.
Since being appointed last year as attorney general Mr Sabet has cultivated a reputation as a crusader against corruption and vice, arresting crooked officials and shutting down brothels. But critics say that he sometimes breaks the law or applies it selectively and can be unpredictable.
On Monday a government commission adjudicating on the Tolo dispute ordered the station to apologise to Mr Sabet. Its management refused to back down. "We come under illegal attack and they demand we apologise - how ridiculous is that?" said its director, Saad Mohseni.
There is greater peril in the provinces. Young and poorly paid reporters are vulnerable to intimidation and bribery from local strongmen, usually governors and warlords wanting to stop unfavourable coverage of corruption, human rights abuses and drug trafficking.
But the most potent danger remains the Taliban.
"They want to control our words. They say 'if we kill one person, you should write [that it was] two'," said Ms Nekzad, of Pajhwok, who likened the worsening situation to Iraq.
Refusal to comply can lead to an early grave. Mr Samander pulled out a "night letter" that a colleague in Nangarhar had received last week accusing him of working for the CIA. Several journalists had already left, he said.
He sighed. "It is not our job to take sides but this is very difficult. We will surely lose other Ajmals."
Backstory
Fighting continues in southern Afghanistan but elsewhere the struggle to control the country's cultural future is being played out on the small screen. TV stations showing Bollywood movies and looking at previously taboo subjects such as child sex abuse are highly popular with young, urban Afghans. Tolo TV is at the vanguard of this wave, but the fledgling media is staunchly resisted by many older Afghans who are sceptical about western influences. A media law now in parliament will give the government greater control. But the freedom that has been acquired might not be readily surrendered. Last week disabled athletes blocked protesters from reaching the Tolo building, in an upmarket area of Kabul. One disabled man said the athletes were involved because it was "good TV".
http://www.guardian.co.uk/afghanistan/story/0,,2065443,00.html
Killers and censors bring fledgling media under fire from all sides
US and Kabul officials get tough with journalists amid growing insurgent violence
Declan Walsh in Kabul
Thursday April 26, 2007
The Guardian
A day after being freed from captivity by the Taliban, the Italian journalist Daniele Mastrogiacomo stepped off a plane in Rome, beaming with relief and raising his arms in a victory salute. But back in Afghanistan his translator, Ajmal Nakshbandi, remained in Taliban hands.
The omens were bad: Mastrogiacomo's driver, Sayed Agha, had already been beheaded, and a week later 25-year-old Nakshbandi was also dead, his throat slit and his body dumped in the desert.
The brutal slaying last month shook Afghanistan's fledgling media, sparked recriminations and highlighted how young local reporters were becoming caught in the crossfire of an increasingly vicious conflict.
All sides consider news as a weapon of war, even those professing to defend press freedom. On March 4 American soldiers ripped cameras from local reporters in Nangarhar and deleted their pictures after a convoy of marines shot at least 10 people and wounded 33 in the aftermath of a suicide attack.
A US commander later justified the deletions on the basis that "untrained" Afghans might "capture visual details that are not as they originally were". A preliminary military inquiry, publicised last week, suggested what those sensitive details could have been: contrary to the soldiers' earlier claims, investigators found that all of the killed civilians had been unarmed.
Faced with a swelling insurgency and mounting criticism, Afghanistan's government has also taken a tougher line with the media. Last week three journalists with Tolo, a popular television station, and four from the Associated Press, were detained on orders from the attorney general, Abdul Jabar Sabet, who claimed he had been misrepresented by a reporter.
"We are coming under fire from all sides," said Rahimullah Samander, president of the Afghan Independent Journalists' Association. "Before everyone wanted to be a journalist. Not any more."
The Afghan media has altered beyond recognition since the Taliban regime, when there was one state-controlled radio station and a handful of religion-obsessed newspapers. Now there are eight TV stations, 400 publications and more than 2,000 journalists, according to Mr Samander.
The media explosion is fuelling social change and a spirit of accountability. Editorials harshly criticise the government of the president, Hamid Karzai, and TV stations feature women presenters, foreign films and racy music videos.
Foreign donors encouraged the local media with a flood of funding before the elections in 2004 and 2005. But over the past year the foreign money has started to dry up. Six daily newspapers have folded, journalists have been laid off and wages have plummeted.
There has been a three-fold increase in suicide attacks this year alone. As the Taliban stepped up its attacks, the government's commitment waned. Last year the state intelligence agency tried to curtail reporting of the insurgency by issuing a list of restrictions to local journalists. A public outcry caused the directive to be withdrawn, but public anger was again stoked over the handling of Mastrogiacomo's release.
Mastrogiacomo, a correspondent for La Repubblica, was freed in exchange for five "high-value" Taliban prisoners and $2m (£1m), said an Afghan official. President Karzai agreed to the controversial deal because he feared Italy would withdraw 1,800 troops from Afghanistan if the journalist died. The Taliban expedited negotiations by beheading his driver then making the panicked Italian record a video plea for help.
But Afghans say that once Mastrogiacomo was safe, Mr Karzai had allowed the Afghan, Nakshbandi, to die in the desert. "Why didn't the government strike a deal for both of them? It didn't take Ajmal seriously," said Farida Nekzad, managing editor of Pajhwok news agency. "In this country we have two policies - one for the internationals, the other for locals."
But the Afghan official, speaking on condition of anonymity, said the story was more complicated, and that the Taliban had never made demands for the release of Nakshbandi, who was killed to "humiliate Mr Karzai". He added: "It was political, just to make the government's name bad."
Journalists also directed their ire at the Italian journalist and La Repubblica for failing to save Nakshbandi. The Union of Italian journalists has offered money to his family, said Mr Samander.
This week the media debate has focused on the Tolo TV controversy. Mr Sabet, a strident conservative, told the Guardian he had been offended by a television report that took his words out of context. "They are not journalists, they are liars," he said. He insisted he was within his rights to detain whoever he wished. "These laws give me the power to summon any person in this country, even the president," he said, waving a book of legislation.
Since being appointed last year as attorney general Mr Sabet has cultivated a reputation as a crusader against corruption and vice, arresting crooked officials and shutting down brothels. But critics say that he sometimes breaks the law or applies it selectively and can be unpredictable.
On Monday a government commission adjudicating on the Tolo dispute ordered the station to apologise to Mr Sabet. Its management refused to back down. "We come under illegal attack and they demand we apologise - how ridiculous is that?" said its director, Saad Mohseni.
There is greater peril in the provinces. Young and poorly paid reporters are vulnerable to intimidation and bribery from local strongmen, usually governors and warlords wanting to stop unfavourable coverage of corruption, human rights abuses and drug trafficking.
But the most potent danger remains the Taliban.
"They want to control our words. They say 'if we kill one person, you should write [that it was] two'," said Ms Nekzad, of Pajhwok, who likened the worsening situation to Iraq.
Refusal to comply can lead to an early grave. Mr Samander pulled out a "night letter" that a colleague in Nangarhar had received last week accusing him of working for the CIA. Several journalists had already left, he said.
He sighed. "It is not our job to take sides but this is very difficult. We will surely lose other Ajmals."
Backstory
Fighting continues in southern Afghanistan but elsewhere the struggle to control the country's cultural future is being played out on the small screen. TV stations showing Bollywood movies and looking at previously taboo subjects such as child sex abuse are highly popular with young, urban Afghans. Tolo TV is at the vanguard of this wave, but the fledgling media is staunchly resisted by many older Afghans who are sceptical about western influences. A media law now in parliament will give the government greater control. But the freedom that has been acquired might not be readily surrendered. Last week disabled athletes blocked protesters from reaching the Tolo building, in an upmarket area of Kabul. One disabled man said the athletes were involved because it was "good TV".