The world of ’district reporters’ is cheap and cheerful or cheap and cheerless depending on their willingness and ability to use the freedom of expression (and the identity card that gives them the freedom in the first place) creatively and to the mutual benefit of their households and employers.
I have used the word ‘employer’ for the want of a better term. It is someone who hires a servant on the promise of two meals only for part-time work, and tells him his job will be to go to the nearby shrine at the time of food distribution twice a day, get some for himself and bring a bowlful for the family. The list of such employers include every news media house in the country except for Dawn and Jang groups. The former pays regular salaries and the latter an honourarium – a reporter working for Jang, The News and occasionally for Geo for quarter of a century gets a monthly cheque for Rs. 730, for instance. The rest not only don’t pay, even for the expenses incurred on news gathering and communication, they demand to be paid handsomely by the employee instead. What then makes small town journalists hang on to their jobs by their toe nails? And fight daily battles with rivals who want to snatch their coveted Press Pass?
Jang was the first national newspaper that boasted of a network of correspondents in every district of the country. And they did it on the cheap. Others followed the example, and the correspondents started mushrooming on tehsil and union council level. These newly minted newsmen had, and still do, very little interaction with their employer or for that matter the world of journalism outside their little area of influence. They are given a press card and told to find ways to make money with it. Then came Khabrain, the truly visionary newspaper that did not invent journalistic blackmailing but did turn this furtive and criminal activity into an accepted art form. It auctioned its bureau offices in every city through large advertisements. No qualifications required, the highest bidder will have the right to represent the paper in that city.
Today, every small city and town has scores of press pass carrying men (tobe fair there are a handful of women, but only a very small handful) who have very little formal education, no professional training, and little or no sense of news, but they make up the bulk of 17, 000 journalists, Intermedia estimates are operating in Pakistan. I have come across correspondents for mainstream media who are high school dropouts and can’t write one sensible sentence in their mother tongue. They are all active within their communities, looking for ways to make money. Their inability to report does not come in the way because more often than not they get paid for NOT reporting something. There is an occasional report praising a local official’s dutifulness or a businessman’s philanthropy – which is supplied by the beneficiaries themselves – but mostly their job is to look for news that someone doesn’t want in the public domain and is willing to pay good money for keeping it out. Understandably, their regular paying customers are local police officials and rival groups of politicians and businessmen.
And when it comes to sharing the spoils of their money-making enterprise, the district reporter is not alone any more. The sub-editor/page maker, all the way to the news editor, everyone gets to partake of it. A majority of correspondents also double as advertising agents and the commission they get from booking ads is the only money they ever get from their employer. The downside is, someone may decide to pay in kind, i.e. in the shape of an ad in return for a favour, restricting the correspondent’s share to only 8 to 10 per cent whereas a direct payment in cash means the reporter gets to decide other colleague’s share.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Saturday 31 December 2011
Monday 21 November 2011
Is afghani a female Afghan?
Yeh Woh (The News on Sunday, 20-11-11)
Pakistani newspapers are not known for their reading pleasure, perhaps because the writers and editors have never sought and found pleasure in reading and therefore consider good prose and news copy mutually exclusive. Or perhaps readers only care for information and not how it is presented.
It doesn’t necessarily follow that news copy, however bland and shabby, contains meaningful information for the reader. A vast majority of the stories appearing in print are done not to inform or educate the reader but to achieve the count of stories each reporter must file. And if at all there is a point to the story, it is lost to bad language.
Consider some of the oft repeated phrases in the leading newspapers: ‘democracy may be derailed’, ‘people will soon hear the good news’, ‘the disinformation is being spread by the agencies’ and the favourite of Urdu press: ‘there will be dama dum mast qalandar’. No one including the writer knows what these phrases mean or care about how they will be interpreted by the reader. Unless democracy is equated with Shalimar Express which is taken off tracks one fine day, is resumed a few days later, and is stopped again.
The vernacular press uses the analogy of ‘folding up of chess board’ which is just as mysterious because both use an active verb and no subject. Pray tell who will derail, and who will fold up? The ‘Subject that cannot be named’ is some times referred to as ‘agencies’. The last time I checked, the term was used in every newsroom for news wire agencies. Like, a story is attributed to agencies when contents of more than one news wires are used. The other use of ‘agencies’ was popularised by MQM when it wanted to point a finger at one or several military intelligence outfits but wasn’t sure which one(s).
In fact all these and many more ambiguous phrases are coined by politicians whose job it is not to inform and educate, and therefore can’t be held accountable. But when a journalist uses this nonsense in a news story, who is clamouring for accountability? When a politician promises good news soon, it is reported verbatim as if there is a precedent of politicians giving good news to the people. As far as I remember the only times we as a nation celebrate good news is when a government — any government — falls. And this news is almost always broken by a four-star general in crisp khaki uniform. So while we may get good news at the expense of politicians, there is no sense in politicians promising their own doom. As for the ‘mast qalandar’ line, I have no idea what it means, and can’t even guess if it is alright for a non-Sindhi politician to use it. But every Urdu paper worth its masthead continues to print it.
To be fair to the average reporter who describes MFN as most ‘favourite’ nation, and thereby ignites a nation-wide debate on how come our arch enemy has become our buddy overnight, the above phrases are too cryptic to handle and therefore they do the right thing by slipping in a useful ‘he said’ before or after the sentence, thereby washing their hands off whatever it does or doesn’t mean.
But even the experts available to our media do not add much to our understanding. A political analyst — and they are the largest tribe of experts owing to the fact that the job requires no qualification at all — builds his or her entire argument on the basis that a civilian government is a democratic government. The defence analyst can seldom make out that the singular form of Taliban is ‘talib’. The economist can blabber on endlessly about the micro and macro indicators but never a sentence a high school graduate can understand. And I don’t know a single Afghanistan expert who knows the difference between an Afghan and an afghani.
The most unfortunate English word, on account of its rampant abuse, is perhaps ‘alternative’. In fact chances are you won’t find the word if you ran a search of the online database of Pakistani newspapers. It is one of those ‘missing words’ like the ‘missing people’ our Supreme Court keeps searching in vain. Try this instead: type in ‘alternate’, and if you get 100 results, 95 of these were actually meant to use ‘alternative’.
Pakistani newspapers are not known for their reading pleasure, perhaps because the writers and editors have never sought and found pleasure in reading and therefore consider good prose and news copy mutually exclusive. Or perhaps readers only care for information and not how it is presented.
It doesn’t necessarily follow that news copy, however bland and shabby, contains meaningful information for the reader. A vast majority of the stories appearing in print are done not to inform or educate the reader but to achieve the count of stories each reporter must file. And if at all there is a point to the story, it is lost to bad language.
Consider some of the oft repeated phrases in the leading newspapers: ‘democracy may be derailed’, ‘people will soon hear the good news’, ‘the disinformation is being spread by the agencies’ and the favourite of Urdu press: ‘there will be dama dum mast qalandar’. No one including the writer knows what these phrases mean or care about how they will be interpreted by the reader. Unless democracy is equated with Shalimar Express which is taken off tracks one fine day, is resumed a few days later, and is stopped again.
The vernacular press uses the analogy of ‘folding up of chess board’ which is just as mysterious because both use an active verb and no subject. Pray tell who will derail, and who will fold up? The ‘Subject that cannot be named’ is some times referred to as ‘agencies’. The last time I checked, the term was used in every newsroom for news wire agencies. Like, a story is attributed to agencies when contents of more than one news wires are used. The other use of ‘agencies’ was popularised by MQM when it wanted to point a finger at one or several military intelligence outfits but wasn’t sure which one(s).
In fact all these and many more ambiguous phrases are coined by politicians whose job it is not to inform and educate, and therefore can’t be held accountable. But when a journalist uses this nonsense in a news story, who is clamouring for accountability? When a politician promises good news soon, it is reported verbatim as if there is a precedent of politicians giving good news to the people. As far as I remember the only times we as a nation celebrate good news is when a government — any government — falls. And this news is almost always broken by a four-star general in crisp khaki uniform. So while we may get good news at the expense of politicians, there is no sense in politicians promising their own doom. As for the ‘mast qalandar’ line, I have no idea what it means, and can’t even guess if it is alright for a non-Sindhi politician to use it. But every Urdu paper worth its masthead continues to print it.
To be fair to the average reporter who describes MFN as most ‘favourite’ nation, and thereby ignites a nation-wide debate on how come our arch enemy has become our buddy overnight, the above phrases are too cryptic to handle and therefore they do the right thing by slipping in a useful ‘he said’ before or after the sentence, thereby washing their hands off whatever it does or doesn’t mean.
But even the experts available to our media do not add much to our understanding. A political analyst — and they are the largest tribe of experts owing to the fact that the job requires no qualification at all — builds his or her entire argument on the basis that a civilian government is a democratic government. The defence analyst can seldom make out that the singular form of Taliban is ‘talib’. The economist can blabber on endlessly about the micro and macro indicators but never a sentence a high school graduate can understand. And I don’t know a single Afghanistan expert who knows the difference between an Afghan and an afghani.
The most unfortunate English word, on account of its rampant abuse, is perhaps ‘alternative’. In fact chances are you won’t find the word if you ran a search of the online database of Pakistani newspapers. It is one of those ‘missing words’ like the ‘missing people’ our Supreme Court keeps searching in vain. Try this instead: type in ‘alternate’, and if you get 100 results, 95 of these were actually meant to use ‘alternative’.
Friday 14 October 2011
Karma in Karachi
The best part of being a trainer is, one’s own learning is assured.
The group of 14 trainees gathered at a country club outside Karachi proper last week, was special in that it was made up of mainstream journalists from the heart of conflict constituency – Baluchistan, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Federally Administered Tribal Areas – and they were selected by the hosts on the basis of their capability and desire to learn rather than sent by a friendly boss on an out-of-town freebie. It was a group of journalists unlike any other I’ve come across, and the perspective they brought with them was equally unique.
Those from FATA have no access to cable or dish television, and in many parts the newspaper is delivered a day late. In Waziristan the military routinely imposes curfew for two days a week which means no newspaper on those days. All journalism related activity is illegal therefore no local publication or independent radio station exists, and journalists working for media based in the settled areas are allowed to operate at the pleasure of local military commanders.
Those in Baluchistan and KPK work under extremely stressful conditions and insensitive, often grossly ignorant editors and owners who routinely push their reporters and photo journalists into situations where they have to decide between putting their life and well being at risk or using tactics that are unprofessional, unethical and against public interest.
They are all hounded by both the military and armed militants over reports perceived as unfavourable, several had received death threats or had been kidnapped, all are underpaid in comparison with their colleagues in Lahore and Karachi, none received any training for working in hostile environment, and only one was issued with protective gear. None in the group had access to first-aid kit, company paid life insurance, or facility to relocate on company expense when under threat.
And these men and women are the eyes and ears we rely on for news from the battle front! They are not really doing a job; it’s more like a mission.
I’m not sure if the trainers were able to help these journalists cope with working conditions they, the trainers had never experienced, but the trainees were visibly relaxed and happy to be away from the every day dangers and anxieties of their working life … until the last day when three of them had their airport bound taxi stopped on Shara e Faisal in broad day light and guns pointed at them while they emptied their wallets and handed their mobile phones to young robbers who were clearly not Taliban or soldiers.
The group of 14 trainees gathered at a country club outside Karachi proper last week, was special in that it was made up of mainstream journalists from the heart of conflict constituency – Baluchistan, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Federally Administered Tribal Areas – and they were selected by the hosts on the basis of their capability and desire to learn rather than sent by a friendly boss on an out-of-town freebie. It was a group of journalists unlike any other I’ve come across, and the perspective they brought with them was equally unique.
Those from FATA have no access to cable or dish television, and in many parts the newspaper is delivered a day late. In Waziristan the military routinely imposes curfew for two days a week which means no newspaper on those days. All journalism related activity is illegal therefore no local publication or independent radio station exists, and journalists working for media based in the settled areas are allowed to operate at the pleasure of local military commanders.
Those in Baluchistan and KPK work under extremely stressful conditions and insensitive, often grossly ignorant editors and owners who routinely push their reporters and photo journalists into situations where they have to decide between putting their life and well being at risk or using tactics that are unprofessional, unethical and against public interest.
They are all hounded by both the military and armed militants over reports perceived as unfavourable, several had received death threats or had been kidnapped, all are underpaid in comparison with their colleagues in Lahore and Karachi, none received any training for working in hostile environment, and only one was issued with protective gear. None in the group had access to first-aid kit, company paid life insurance, or facility to relocate on company expense when under threat.
And these men and women are the eyes and ears we rely on for news from the battle front! They are not really doing a job; it’s more like a mission.
I’m not sure if the trainers were able to help these journalists cope with working conditions they, the trainers had never experienced, but the trainees were visibly relaxed and happy to be away from the every day dangers and anxieties of their working life … until the last day when three of them had their airport bound taxi stopped on Shara e Faisal in broad day light and guns pointed at them while they emptied their wallets and handed their mobile phones to young robbers who were clearly not Taliban or soldiers.
Sunday 2 October 2011
What a disaster!
My weekly column for The News on Sunday:
Everyone in Pakistan has by now learnt to respond to humanitarian crises, except for TV journalists and editors.
In the last six years alone, we have faced three major natural disasters that affected millions of people each; and several smaller scale calamities that hit communities: A passenger airliner crash, dozens of terrorist attacks on crowded public places, mass murder of pilgrims and at religious gatherings, a town burned down for having the wrong faith, a metropolis terrorised by armed criminals, widespread epidemics, a bus full of school children falling off a mountain road … more than enough experience of dealing with emergencies, and their fallout.
Majority of us have learnt from our mistakes. The affected people are managing to bury their dead and rebuilding their lives without waiting for government’s help. The government officials have learnt to respond quickly with a help-line number, never mind no one ever attends, or even makes those calls, except for cynics who dial just to confirm there’s no one at the other end. The elected leaders who used to hover above devastated land in their helicopters now wade through flood waters or stumble over debris for the benefit of TV cameras. Fellow citizens gather aid supplies and deliver in truckloads. And NGOs reach the remotest parts, though only to feed and shelter a tiny fraction of the needy, and hold workshops for local journalists emphasising that what’s most needed in an emergency situation, even more than food and shelter, is information. Information saves lives and provides relief.
But those charged with providing information on a mass scale choose to remain uninformed. To be fair, the print medium is doing a good job of keeping the rest of the country informed of what’s going on in the calamity-hit areas. Only, newspapers have hardly a readership to speak of. Reading is not one of our national traits, be it a publication, instruction manual, or a traffic sign. FM radio is not very effective either because of its limited range and budgets. Hence the popularity of television, and the enhanced responsibility that comes with it.
In an ironic but true reflection of their audiences, the TV journalists hate reading and learning as much. For them, a disaster is a routine story like sighting of Ramzan moon or arrest of Indian fishermen for crossing into Pakistani waters. No need to gather information; take an old script, change the date and names and you have a brand new story. If it’s flooding, the standard line is: ‘The place is inundated and the residents are facing severe hardships’. Really? They are not enjoying the free swimming pool facility right at their doorstep? If it’s three dozen Faisalabad families mourning the death of their sons who left for sightseeing and returned in coffins, the script is: ‘These families are devastated, the women are wailing …’ And what would you rather have them do? Sing a sad song?
It’s not just unprofessional, it’s pathetic and painful to watch. The morning after — a good 12-14 hours after the Kallar Kahar accident — there was little or no information about the survivors; nothing on where to look for the injured; no eye-witness account; no interviews with school, police, or local government officials. When bits of information did arrive, they did more harm by, for instance, giving only first names of the confirmed dead. Even a person of below average intelligence would expect more than one ‘Amjad’ or ‘Saleem’ or some such common name in a group of more than a 100. But not our TV editor watching over the ticker.
Every channel had a somber-faced reporter standing in front of a dead body or a tamashbeen crowd, saying utter nonsense about his surroundings that were visible to everyone on their screen anyway. Every cameraman was trying to take a close-up of the dead body or the wailing mother or sister … for God’s sake, can’t people even die with dignity and grieve in private? This is criminal behaviour that can only exist in a society in which any joker with a microphone or camera in hand is allowed into a household in mourning.
The jokers in the fields of Sindh, shoving microphones into miserable people’s faces with the question: ‘what are your problems?’, getting and accepting the only possible answer ‘we got nothing in aid’, and standing in ankle-deep water for their piece-to-camera, were bad enough. Do we have to take the freak show inside private homes?
---------------
The Kallar Kahar accident happened on Monday evening, this piece was filed on Wednesday, and the Thursday Dawn 'broke' the news that the bus never fell in a ravine, it overturned on the road. This bit of information took TWO DAYS to come out, not because the accident took place in a remote area - it happened ON THE MOTORWAY - but because none of the reporters in Faisalabad bothered to visit the site or even ask the right questions of traffic police officials. This must be the most shameful coverage of an emergency in Pakistani media ... as yet.
Everyone in Pakistan has by now learnt to respond to humanitarian crises, except for TV journalists and editors.
In the last six years alone, we have faced three major natural disasters that affected millions of people each; and several smaller scale calamities that hit communities: A passenger airliner crash, dozens of terrorist attacks on crowded public places, mass murder of pilgrims and at religious gatherings, a town burned down for having the wrong faith, a metropolis terrorised by armed criminals, widespread epidemics, a bus full of school children falling off a mountain road … more than enough experience of dealing with emergencies, and their fallout.
Majority of us have learnt from our mistakes. The affected people are managing to bury their dead and rebuilding their lives without waiting for government’s help. The government officials have learnt to respond quickly with a help-line number, never mind no one ever attends, or even makes those calls, except for cynics who dial just to confirm there’s no one at the other end. The elected leaders who used to hover above devastated land in their helicopters now wade through flood waters or stumble over debris for the benefit of TV cameras. Fellow citizens gather aid supplies and deliver in truckloads. And NGOs reach the remotest parts, though only to feed and shelter a tiny fraction of the needy, and hold workshops for local journalists emphasising that what’s most needed in an emergency situation, even more than food and shelter, is information. Information saves lives and provides relief.
But those charged with providing information on a mass scale choose to remain uninformed. To be fair, the print medium is doing a good job of keeping the rest of the country informed of what’s going on in the calamity-hit areas. Only, newspapers have hardly a readership to speak of. Reading is not one of our national traits, be it a publication, instruction manual, or a traffic sign. FM radio is not very effective either because of its limited range and budgets. Hence the popularity of television, and the enhanced responsibility that comes with it.
In an ironic but true reflection of their audiences, the TV journalists hate reading and learning as much. For them, a disaster is a routine story like sighting of Ramzan moon or arrest of Indian fishermen for crossing into Pakistani waters. No need to gather information; take an old script, change the date and names and you have a brand new story. If it’s flooding, the standard line is: ‘The place is inundated and the residents are facing severe hardships’. Really? They are not enjoying the free swimming pool facility right at their doorstep? If it’s three dozen Faisalabad families mourning the death of their sons who left for sightseeing and returned in coffins, the script is: ‘These families are devastated, the women are wailing …’ And what would you rather have them do? Sing a sad song?
It’s not just unprofessional, it’s pathetic and painful to watch. The morning after — a good 12-14 hours after the Kallar Kahar accident — there was little or no information about the survivors; nothing on where to look for the injured; no eye-witness account; no interviews with school, police, or local government officials. When bits of information did arrive, they did more harm by, for instance, giving only first names of the confirmed dead. Even a person of below average intelligence would expect more than one ‘Amjad’ or ‘Saleem’ or some such common name in a group of more than a 100. But not our TV editor watching over the ticker.
Every channel had a somber-faced reporter standing in front of a dead body or a tamashbeen crowd, saying utter nonsense about his surroundings that were visible to everyone on their screen anyway. Every cameraman was trying to take a close-up of the dead body or the wailing mother or sister … for God’s sake, can’t people even die with dignity and grieve in private? This is criminal behaviour that can only exist in a society in which any joker with a microphone or camera in hand is allowed into a household in mourning.
The jokers in the fields of Sindh, shoving microphones into miserable people’s faces with the question: ‘what are your problems?’, getting and accepting the only possible answer ‘we got nothing in aid’, and standing in ankle-deep water for their piece-to-camera, were bad enough. Do we have to take the freak show inside private homes?
---------------
The Kallar Kahar accident happened on Monday evening, this piece was filed on Wednesday, and the Thursday Dawn 'broke' the news that the bus never fell in a ravine, it overturned on the road. This bit of information took TWO DAYS to come out, not because the accident took place in a remote area - it happened ON THE MOTORWAY - but because none of the reporters in Faisalabad bothered to visit the site or even ask the right questions of traffic police officials. This must be the most shameful coverage of an emergency in Pakistani media ... as yet.
Friday 30 September 2011
Short history of a near exclusive
1041 PM: My daughter walks into the TV room trying hard to look ill. ‘Can I not go to school tomorrow because I am feverish. I think it’s dengue’? Before I could say ‘no way’ the door shuts with a bang, as if hit by a gust of wind. ‘OMG what was that? Did you hear that? It must be a bomb blast’ she says with renewed hope.
1043: The same ticker appears on several news channels: A blast heard in Islamabad. Location is being ascertained.
1045: It’s a private laboratory in Blue Area, says Aaj. Geo agrees and adds the information that glass windows are shattered in nearby buildings. Express hasn’t gone beyond identifying the area. It’s the ARY reporter who finally comes live with definitive information: ‘it’s Envoy hotel’, but the ticker at the bottom of the screen disagrees: it’s City hotel, it’s City hotel … it keeps yelling in a loop.
1050: Express ends the suspense by showing live video of the scene of blast. It is indeed City hotel in Blue Area, and there is definitely broken glass on the ground. The frame also shows a woman sitting calmly in a palanquin, Idi Amin style, and is being carried by two men who don’t seem to know where to take her. Still no sign of blood and gore.
1051: Majority of channels have disrupted their talk-shows to take the viewers live to the scene with a proud ‘exclusive’ displayed across the TV screens in water mark. Reporters are frantically conveying information: the blast occurred on the 3rd floor. It was 4th floor. It was top floor of the six-storey building. ‘So as you heard our reporter there’s been an explosion on the ground floor of … repeats the Sama newscaster. There’s also disagreement on the number of injured; they are either 2, 4 or 5, but there’s definitely a woman among them. Could she be the fair version of Idi Amin?
1055: It seems the source of blast was a pesky gas pipe. But there isn’t even a matchstick flame in sight. Excitement melts into discernable irritation, but the News One newscaster persists: ‘Are you sure there’s no crater or severed head or limbs … like in a planted bomb or a suicide attack?’ The reporter thinks a while and then says confidently: I can confirm that the injured men looked Afghans’. Meanwhile, PTV is as calm as ever, telling its viewers how significant the first day of APC has been, with no mention of the near-exclusive incident just half a kilometre down the road.
My daughter’s excitement is gone too. She seems very disappointed … and ill again. She looks at me as if deciding whether or not to stick with dengue, but then gives up and leaves.
TV journalists in Quetta must be smiling at their hapless colleagues in Islamabad. To know why, rewind to the morning of September 7 in Quetta:
There’s been a real terrorist attack and the entire national media is at work. Four TV channels among them claim their footage to be ‘exclusive’ while streaming or replaying different angles and shots of the same incident. These are: ARY, Geo, Express and Express 24/7.
Perhaps the fear of having their images stolen is the reason the editors choose to stamp them? But then faced with the same concern, Duniya and Samaa simply insert a watermark of their logo. And News One and Aaj do’t feel the need to do even that.
The Islamabad-based journalists of the ‘Exclusive Club’ got to wait for another opportunity.
1043: The same ticker appears on several news channels: A blast heard in Islamabad. Location is being ascertained.
1045: It’s a private laboratory in Blue Area, says Aaj. Geo agrees and adds the information that glass windows are shattered in nearby buildings. Express hasn’t gone beyond identifying the area. It’s the ARY reporter who finally comes live with definitive information: ‘it’s Envoy hotel’, but the ticker at the bottom of the screen disagrees: it’s City hotel, it’s City hotel … it keeps yelling in a loop.
1050: Express ends the suspense by showing live video of the scene of blast. It is indeed City hotel in Blue Area, and there is definitely broken glass on the ground. The frame also shows a woman sitting calmly in a palanquin, Idi Amin style, and is being carried by two men who don’t seem to know where to take her. Still no sign of blood and gore.
1051: Majority of channels have disrupted their talk-shows to take the viewers live to the scene with a proud ‘exclusive’ displayed across the TV screens in water mark. Reporters are frantically conveying information: the blast occurred on the 3rd floor. It was 4th floor. It was top floor of the six-storey building. ‘So as you heard our reporter there’s been an explosion on the ground floor of … repeats the Sama newscaster. There’s also disagreement on the number of injured; they are either 2, 4 or 5, but there’s definitely a woman among them. Could she be the fair version of Idi Amin?
1055: It seems the source of blast was a pesky gas pipe. But there isn’t even a matchstick flame in sight. Excitement melts into discernable irritation, but the News One newscaster persists: ‘Are you sure there’s no crater or severed head or limbs … like in a planted bomb or a suicide attack?’ The reporter thinks a while and then says confidently: I can confirm that the injured men looked Afghans’. Meanwhile, PTV is as calm as ever, telling its viewers how significant the first day of APC has been, with no mention of the near-exclusive incident just half a kilometre down the road.
My daughter’s excitement is gone too. She seems very disappointed … and ill again. She looks at me as if deciding whether or not to stick with dengue, but then gives up and leaves.
TV journalists in Quetta must be smiling at their hapless colleagues in Islamabad. To know why, rewind to the morning of September 7 in Quetta:
There’s been a real terrorist attack and the entire national media is at work. Four TV channels among them claim their footage to be ‘exclusive’ while streaming or replaying different angles and shots of the same incident. These are: ARY, Geo, Express and Express 24/7.
Perhaps the fear of having their images stolen is the reason the editors choose to stamp them? But then faced with the same concern, Duniya and Samaa simply insert a watermark of their logo. And News One and Aaj do’t feel the need to do even that.
The Islamabad-based journalists of the ‘Exclusive Club’ got to wait for another opportunity.
Friday 23 September 2011
Sources of shame
Every journalist in this country has access to ‘informed sources’ who feature in a majority of stories in print and electronic media on a daily basis. Why then do the consumers of news complain of being uninformed, or worse, being confused and misled by the information?
One of journalism’s universal principles is to attribute all information to the relevant person, group or entity, clearly identified in the story. Exceptions must be very few and must require supervising editor’s consent. Quality media all over the world exercises discretion in the use of unnamed sources of information and where they are used, an attempt is made to justify it to the consumer, within the story. And there may still be unforeseen and adverse consequences. The last time BBC used an unnamed source in a high profile case was in 2003 when it reported to its domestic audience that a well informed official within the government believes the Tony Blair government ‘sexed up’ its Iraq dossier to get a pro-war endorsement from the Parliament. In that instance, the source committed suicide, two top BBC directors had to resign, the reporter lost his job, and the entire BBC had to retrain to ‘regain the confidence of the audiences’. (Highlights of Hutton inquiry report).
Compare this with Pakistani media that attributes even the most official and open announcements for public – sighting of moon by the designated committee of religious scholars, for instance – to unnamed sources (this example from AFP news headlines feed for mobile phone users). Why? I routinely ask journalists participating in my training workshops. I get different replies but the underlying perception is the same: Stories attributing information to unnamed sources sound more credible, even to editors. One reporter narrated this incident in which he attended a news conference held in Peshawer and filed his story. The next day he saw the Islamabad correspondent’s story published in his paper, instead. He called up the news editor and the explanation was: the Peshawer story seemed run of the mill as it quoted people that the rest of the media was quoting. But the Islamabad story stands out because it quotes ‘sources’. I would’ve thought the anecdote was a joke if the rest of the 20 or so mid-level to senior journalists hadn’t nodded in agreement with the narrator.
Reporters, sub-editors and senior editors know all too well that the term ‘sources’ is merely a euphemism for:
1- Reporter’s imagination. Just think of something and attribute it to sources. Who’s going to know!
2- Laziness. Attribution requires meticulously and contextually quoting a subject. It also requires the reporter to know the full name and exact designation of the person quoted. Why get into all this trouble when my editors are happy with the usage of ‘sources’.
3- Planted stories. Sources are not motivated to spill beans to help the cause of journalism, or to respect the right of public to know facts; they have their own personal or institutional reasons and they use news media to further their agenda.
4- Coercion/bribe. Journalists are ‘persuaded’, threatened and bribed all the time to put out some information without disclosing the source. Governments and intelligence agencies routinely use this ploy.
True, there is a story now and then that explains, to the satisfaction of an informed consumer, the reason(s) for withholding a source’s identity; and not all stories attributed to unnamed sources are malicious; but by and large the use of ‘sources’ in news media or not attributing information at all, fails journalists in their professional duty to be accurate, fair, objective and neutral, and should be viewed with suspicion by the consumers. And that brings us to the question of a news media outlet’s credibility – considered the most valuable asset of the organisation anywhere else, but here in the ‘sub chalta hei’ land, the media houses find nothing too shameful.
During Lal Masjid operation, late one night the Islamabad bureau chief, Hamid Mir, said live on Geo that his sources confirm a number of explosions in the residential sectors of the city. The information was wrong but Geo never retracted or followed up on that story, completely oblivious to the panic it created among Islamabad residents and their loved ones watching Geo all over Pakistan and abroad.
Except for a couple, all mainstream newspapers fell for the fake WikiLeaks story put out by Online news agency in December last year. No editor asked the question: Where did Online get this information from? The News and Jang even put it as their lead story, with the former not even crediting the story to the agency, giving the impression it was the paper’s own information. But next day when it dawned on editors that they’d been duped, some like Express Tribune accepted their mistake and apologised to the readers while The News chose to blame Online for not properly vetting the story, as if the newspaper editors get paid their salaries to trust the judgment of hundreds of news agencies that put out thousands of stories every day. With the innocence of a crafty teenager, The News still tried to save face: ‘We learnt from our sources that the story was dubious and may have been planted’. It WAS planted and the media group as a whole DID fall for it, was something the story never said.
Then again at the end of last month all newspapers, this time Dawn included, carried a story about the arrests made at Karachi airport of two suspected killers of Dr. Imran Farooq, on receiving a tip-off from British intelligence. The names of the arrested were not given in the Dawn story of August 26, and they were said to be affiliated with ‘a political party’. The Nation went a step ahead and screamed that the murder case was ‘nearing its conclusion’ with the arrest of ‘three suspects’ including the ‘mastermind, Khalid Shamim who also belongs to MQM’. The Nation story gave the un-attributed details of the plan as if it’d seen CCTV footage, and added that all suspects had owned up to their part in the crime. The same story with additional ‘sensational revelations’ appeared on Paktribune.com on August 27.
Here was a story the entire media seemed to endorse. But when MQM snubbed them for the reporting it termed “devoid of truth, baseless and concocted” the same media cowered into carrying the terse statement word for word, and none of them stood by their story or their sources. To add insult to injury, the interior minister weighed in with MQM in categorically denying if any arrests were made, and if British intelligence had tipped off Pakistan on this case.
What is the consumer of news to make of all this? If it was a war of attrition between MQM and an intelligence agency, how come media positioned itself to be the only loser? And without the consumers’ trust how long can this news media survive?
One of journalism’s universal principles is to attribute all information to the relevant person, group or entity, clearly identified in the story. Exceptions must be very few and must require supervising editor’s consent. Quality media all over the world exercises discretion in the use of unnamed sources of information and where they are used, an attempt is made to justify it to the consumer, within the story. And there may still be unforeseen and adverse consequences. The last time BBC used an unnamed source in a high profile case was in 2003 when it reported to its domestic audience that a well informed official within the government believes the Tony Blair government ‘sexed up’ its Iraq dossier to get a pro-war endorsement from the Parliament. In that instance, the source committed suicide, two top BBC directors had to resign, the reporter lost his job, and the entire BBC had to retrain to ‘regain the confidence of the audiences’. (Highlights of Hutton inquiry report).
Compare this with Pakistani media that attributes even the most official and open announcements for public – sighting of moon by the designated committee of religious scholars, for instance – to unnamed sources (this example from AFP news headlines feed for mobile phone users). Why? I routinely ask journalists participating in my training workshops. I get different replies but the underlying perception is the same: Stories attributing information to unnamed sources sound more credible, even to editors. One reporter narrated this incident in which he attended a news conference held in Peshawer and filed his story. The next day he saw the Islamabad correspondent’s story published in his paper, instead. He called up the news editor and the explanation was: the Peshawer story seemed run of the mill as it quoted people that the rest of the media was quoting. But the Islamabad story stands out because it quotes ‘sources’. I would’ve thought the anecdote was a joke if the rest of the 20 or so mid-level to senior journalists hadn’t nodded in agreement with the narrator.
Reporters, sub-editors and senior editors know all too well that the term ‘sources’ is merely a euphemism for:
1- Reporter’s imagination. Just think of something and attribute it to sources. Who’s going to know!
2- Laziness. Attribution requires meticulously and contextually quoting a subject. It also requires the reporter to know the full name and exact designation of the person quoted. Why get into all this trouble when my editors are happy with the usage of ‘sources’.
3- Planted stories. Sources are not motivated to spill beans to help the cause of journalism, or to respect the right of public to know facts; they have their own personal or institutional reasons and they use news media to further their agenda.
4- Coercion/bribe. Journalists are ‘persuaded’, threatened and bribed all the time to put out some information without disclosing the source. Governments and intelligence agencies routinely use this ploy.
True, there is a story now and then that explains, to the satisfaction of an informed consumer, the reason(s) for withholding a source’s identity; and not all stories attributed to unnamed sources are malicious; but by and large the use of ‘sources’ in news media or not attributing information at all, fails journalists in their professional duty to be accurate, fair, objective and neutral, and should be viewed with suspicion by the consumers. And that brings us to the question of a news media outlet’s credibility – considered the most valuable asset of the organisation anywhere else, but here in the ‘sub chalta hei’ land, the media houses find nothing too shameful.
During Lal Masjid operation, late one night the Islamabad bureau chief, Hamid Mir, said live on Geo that his sources confirm a number of explosions in the residential sectors of the city. The information was wrong but Geo never retracted or followed up on that story, completely oblivious to the panic it created among Islamabad residents and their loved ones watching Geo all over Pakistan and abroad.
Except for a couple, all mainstream newspapers fell for the fake WikiLeaks story put out by Online news agency in December last year. No editor asked the question: Where did Online get this information from? The News and Jang even put it as their lead story, with the former not even crediting the story to the agency, giving the impression it was the paper’s own information. But next day when it dawned on editors that they’d been duped, some like Express Tribune accepted their mistake and apologised to the readers while The News chose to blame Online for not properly vetting the story, as if the newspaper editors get paid their salaries to trust the judgment of hundreds of news agencies that put out thousands of stories every day. With the innocence of a crafty teenager, The News still tried to save face: ‘We learnt from our sources that the story was dubious and may have been planted’. It WAS planted and the media group as a whole DID fall for it, was something the story never said.
Then again at the end of last month all newspapers, this time Dawn included, carried a story about the arrests made at Karachi airport of two suspected killers of Dr. Imran Farooq, on receiving a tip-off from British intelligence. The names of the arrested were not given in the Dawn story of August 26, and they were said to be affiliated with ‘a political party’. The Nation went a step ahead and screamed that the murder case was ‘nearing its conclusion’ with the arrest of ‘three suspects’ including the ‘mastermind, Khalid Shamim who also belongs to MQM’. The Nation story gave the un-attributed details of the plan as if it’d seen CCTV footage, and added that all suspects had owned up to their part in the crime. The same story with additional ‘sensational revelations’ appeared on Paktribune.com on August 27.
Here was a story the entire media seemed to endorse. But when MQM snubbed them for the reporting it termed “devoid of truth, baseless and concocted” the same media cowered into carrying the terse statement word for word, and none of them stood by their story or their sources. To add insult to injury, the interior minister weighed in with MQM in categorically denying if any arrests were made, and if British intelligence had tipped off Pakistan on this case.
What is the consumer of news to make of all this? If it was a war of attrition between MQM and an intelligence agency, how come media positioned itself to be the only loser? And without the consumers’ trust how long can this news media survive?
Tuesday 20 September 2011
I, me, myself ... and us
Pakistani media is increasingly getting better at being the story than covering one. On September 9 there was only one story: Altaf Hussain's media conference in London that started a little after 7.30 pm PST and ended just in time for Bolta Pakistan, starring Nusrat Javed and Mushtaq Minhas.
The programme didn't last beyond the first commercial break, and shortly after that internet was buzzing with talk of Nusrat Javed getting the sack for taunting Altaf Hussain. It was not a rumour though: Nusrat himself announced it on Capital Talk. However, that same night and all day the next day, Aaj News continued announcing to its viewers: 'The management strongly refutes the impression created in the media that senior anchor person Nusrat Javed has been terminated (farigh in Urdu) or that his termination is being considered. He is still an important member of this organization'. End of the story?
Not this. On Monday 12th September journalists walked out of both Houses of Parliament in protest against 'sacking' of Nusrat Javed. When they were given the usual pep talk by the concerned ministers, a majority of journalists wanted to get back to work but others continued demanding immediate action. The two groups exchanged hot words and ended in a 'scuffle' as reported by daily Dawn. The agitators then took to the street where the local press club leaders had a chance to deliver speeches and everyone had an opportunity to pose with Imran Khan - the rebel always searching for a cause, and in his desperation often getting the wrong end of the stick. Was he duped again? For that matter did the protesting journalists have a cause?
Let's see: After Bolta Pakistan was discontinued on 'technical grounds', Nusrat Javed called up Mohammed Malick, Geo's resident editor who was a guest on Capital Talk, and told him that MQM had his programme taken off air and he had 'resigned' in protest. The host Hamid Mir took him on phone line and this time Nusrat said he had been 'sacked'. He also accused MQM of threatening the life of 600 staff members if the programme continued. However, he did not attribute this information to any one.
Later, he told his friends and colleagues what sounds like truth: During the break the management of Aaj asked him to stop clowning and get on with his job. He refused and walked out in a huff. The man who professes journalism to be his only passion in life, broke the first rule of journalism by publicly misstating facts about his own story, and by not apologising or explaining his position to his viewers later. As for the protesting journalists, they were simply following the tribal code of protecting one of their own. Though in this case without ascertaining if the person really needed protection.
Freedom of expression is not a blanket allowance for dumping verbal trash in public. What Nusrat Javed indulged in, all through the 18 or so minutes of his programme was his personal opinion of Altaf Hussain, rather than an analysis of his speech. He was visibly and uncontrollably angry at the epithet of bay-ghairat Altaf Hussain had used for Nawaz League but Nusrat Javed in his peculiar state chose to apply on Punjabis in general and Punjabi anchor persons in particular. He responded to this 'personal insult' by narrating his family tree to prove he was a son of Punjab's soil, directly addressing and challenging the MQM leader and mimicking his song and dance routine so consistently, the unnerved co-host Mushtaq Minhas had to plead the producer to go for a break (watch the last few seconds of the clip below). The only time he seemed at ease was when ANP leader Zahid Khan joined on phone line and called Altaf Hussain a 'mad man' and his speech 'bakwaas' - the derogatory terms a decent host like Nusrat Javed does not allow on his show in normal circumstances.
Nusrat Javed resumed his show starting Tuesday 13th September and its been business as usual ever since. He forgot to follow up on his criminal allegations against MQM. He conveniently chose not to inform his viewers if he was really sacked, and on what terms was he re-hired. All that remains of this sorry episode is occasional swear words for MQM, and adulatory remarks in favour of Nusrat Javed for standing up against it, in the countless discussions on internet. Is that the kind of viewership a senior, serious and passionate journalist wants to appeal to?
The programme didn't last beyond the first commercial break, and shortly after that internet was buzzing with talk of Nusrat Javed getting the sack for taunting Altaf Hussain. It was not a rumour though: Nusrat himself announced it on Capital Talk. However, that same night and all day the next day, Aaj News continued announcing to its viewers: 'The management strongly refutes the impression created in the media that senior anchor person Nusrat Javed has been terminated (farigh in Urdu) or that his termination is being considered. He is still an important member of this organization'. End of the story?
Not this. On Monday 12th September journalists walked out of both Houses of Parliament in protest against 'sacking' of Nusrat Javed. When they were given the usual pep talk by the concerned ministers, a majority of journalists wanted to get back to work but others continued demanding immediate action. The two groups exchanged hot words and ended in a 'scuffle' as reported by daily Dawn. The agitators then took to the street where the local press club leaders had a chance to deliver speeches and everyone had an opportunity to pose with Imran Khan - the rebel always searching for a cause, and in his desperation often getting the wrong end of the stick. Was he duped again? For that matter did the protesting journalists have a cause?
Let's see: After Bolta Pakistan was discontinued on 'technical grounds', Nusrat Javed called up Mohammed Malick, Geo's resident editor who was a guest on Capital Talk, and told him that MQM had his programme taken off air and he had 'resigned' in protest. The host Hamid Mir took him on phone line and this time Nusrat said he had been 'sacked'. He also accused MQM of threatening the life of 600 staff members if the programme continued. However, he did not attribute this information to any one.
Later, he told his friends and colleagues what sounds like truth: During the break the management of Aaj asked him to stop clowning and get on with his job. He refused and walked out in a huff. The man who professes journalism to be his only passion in life, broke the first rule of journalism by publicly misstating facts about his own story, and by not apologising or explaining his position to his viewers later. As for the protesting journalists, they were simply following the tribal code of protecting one of their own. Though in this case without ascertaining if the person really needed protection.
Freedom of expression is not a blanket allowance for dumping verbal trash in public. What Nusrat Javed indulged in, all through the 18 or so minutes of his programme was his personal opinion of Altaf Hussain, rather than an analysis of his speech. He was visibly and uncontrollably angry at the epithet of bay-ghairat Altaf Hussain had used for Nawaz League but Nusrat Javed in his peculiar state chose to apply on Punjabis in general and Punjabi anchor persons in particular. He responded to this 'personal insult' by narrating his family tree to prove he was a son of Punjab's soil, directly addressing and challenging the MQM leader and mimicking his song and dance routine so consistently, the unnerved co-host Mushtaq Minhas had to plead the producer to go for a break (watch the last few seconds of the clip below). The only time he seemed at ease was when ANP leader Zahid Khan joined on phone line and called Altaf Hussain a 'mad man' and his speech 'bakwaas' - the derogatory terms a decent host like Nusrat Javed does not allow on his show in normal circumstances.
Nusrat Javed resumed his show starting Tuesday 13th September and its been business as usual ever since. He forgot to follow up on his criminal allegations against MQM. He conveniently chose not to inform his viewers if he was really sacked, and on what terms was he re-hired. All that remains of this sorry episode is occasional swear words for MQM, and adulatory remarks in favour of Nusrat Javed for standing up against it, in the countless discussions on internet. Is that the kind of viewership a senior, serious and passionate journalist wants to appeal to?
Saturday 10 September 2011
Deciphering bhai
1- Altaf Hussain's marathon sit-down comedy dubbed as an international news conference went on for more than three hours during which he sang, hand-danced, waved Quran, appeared drunk (or forgetful), and read some documents in a foreign language no one understood.
2- This event was broadcast live, without interruption even for news heads or the sacred 9 'O clock detailed bulletin, or the more sacred talk shows, or the more important advertising spots, by EVERY TV news channel in Pakistan.
3- Here is a bullet point precis of what he said (in my words):
a) 12 May wasn't MQM's doing. It was Musharraf's idea and we only did his bidding (the would-be famous quote: God is my witness I don't know who placed containers on Karachi roads. And if anyone has a problem with that, go to ICJ against me).
b) No one listens to Supreme Court but if it gives a verdict against us, it will be implemented. In that case God is a better judge, and the people are even better at judging such things.
c) Some powers are out to dismember Pakistan but if the army and the ISI (apparently for him they are two different entities) join hands with MQM workers, the threat can be neuteralised.
d) Answering a question from Islamabad he lost his composure and said: 'some people wish that MQM should indeed start breaking up the country'.
e) Quoted from a lot of material available on the net as proof of his assertions.
f) Spoke harshly against ANP and JI, and called Musharraf 'buzdil' and N-League leaders 'be-ghairat' but hardly anything against PPP and nothing at all about Zardari, Gillani and Associates.
4- After the event Nusrat Javed opened his show by freaking out at the epithet of be-ghairat that he somehow connected with TV anchors.
5- Hamid Mir in Islamabad and Kamran Khan in Karachi vied for air time and the crafty Mir was able to throw out the Khan after 15 minutes.
6- MQM's leaders in Karachi made it in time to assorted TV studios, mostly to defend the song-and-dance routine of their leader.
7- Every guest in the post-event talk shows said the opponents were crossing the line of decency, and then decently did the same.
2- This event was broadcast live, without interruption even for news heads or the sacred 9 'O clock detailed bulletin, or the more sacred talk shows, or the more important advertising spots, by EVERY TV news channel in Pakistan.
3- Here is a bullet point precis of what he said (in my words):
a) 12 May wasn't MQM's doing. It was Musharraf's idea and we only did his bidding (the would-be famous quote: God is my witness I don't know who placed containers on Karachi roads. And if anyone has a problem with that, go to ICJ against me).
b) No one listens to Supreme Court but if it gives a verdict against us, it will be implemented. In that case God is a better judge, and the people are even better at judging such things.
c) Some powers are out to dismember Pakistan but if the army and the ISI (apparently for him they are two different entities) join hands with MQM workers, the threat can be neuteralised.
d) Answering a question from Islamabad he lost his composure and said: 'some people wish that MQM should indeed start breaking up the country'.
e) Quoted from a lot of material available on the net as proof of his assertions.
f) Spoke harshly against ANP and JI, and called Musharraf 'buzdil' and N-League leaders 'be-ghairat' but hardly anything against PPP and nothing at all about Zardari, Gillani and Associates.
4- After the event Nusrat Javed opened his show by freaking out at the epithet of be-ghairat that he somehow connected with TV anchors.
5- Hamid Mir in Islamabad and Kamran Khan in Karachi vied for air time and the crafty Mir was able to throw out the Khan after 15 minutes.
6- MQM's leaders in Karachi made it in time to assorted TV studios, mostly to defend the song-and-dance routine of their leader.
7- Every guest in the post-event talk shows said the opponents were crossing the line of decency, and then decently did the same.
Thursday 8 September 2011
Pak media up for sale
"The Pakistani press is the freest press that money can buy,” says Christine Fair, a Pakistan expert and assistant professor at Georgetown University in Washington, adding: “The larger story is the Pakistani media is up for sale to as manhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gify people want to buy it. This fiction is that the country is really benefiting from some independent media. The US government wants to get into this game to counter this ISI propaganda.”
The Christian Science Monitor story 'US funding for Pakistani journalists raises questions of transparency'
The Christian Science Monitor story 'US funding for Pakistani journalists raises questions of transparency'
Tuesday 6 September 2011
What defines a journalist?
The question was asked by the father of a friend who wasn’t thrilled for his daughter to join me at daily The Muslim, that used to be the newspaper of choice for residents of Islamabad. And without waiting for my answer, he offered his own: ‘At any gathering the first few people to reach for food are always, always journalists.
After many moons the question sprung in my head while reading my Sunday newspapers. It was September 4, the last day of eid holidays, and arguably the leanest day for news but ‘the pages have to be filled’ as they say in every newsroom from Karachi to Kohat. And so there were stories filed by staff reporters, there were headlines composed by sub-editors, there were pictures taken by staff photographers, and there were opinions expressed by the more brainy staff members, just like any other day.
But there was precious little to inform, educate or entertain the reader. Unless the country’s prime minister threatening Karachi squatters is taken for entertainment; reproducing hand-outs and transcriptions goes for information; and subjective opinions are meant to educate.
One of the few original news items I found was on the back page of The Express Tribune and it was about two devolved government departments that have practically done nothing for months because the province’s assembly hasn’t done the necessary legislation to take them over. The departments have been sent but haven’t been received, like packages in the care of Pakistan Post. It was an interesting story with a couple of direct quotes as well, only it wasn’t presented as a journalist’s work. It was a piece in the Speakers’ Corner, written by Sonia Malik, who going by her head shot, seems young enough to be in school or college.
If her piece is journalism, what is it that fills dozens of broadsheet pages of that day? Does she have the right to introduce herself as a journalist, on the basis of this one piece alone? Do all the others who failed in their job to inform, educate or entertain the reader through their words, ideas and illustrations, have the right to introduce themselves as journalists? Is employer the only one to decide whether or not a person is a journalist? Who and what defines a journalist?
After many moons the question sprung in my head while reading my Sunday newspapers. It was September 4, the last day of eid holidays, and arguably the leanest day for news but ‘the pages have to be filled’ as they say in every newsroom from Karachi to Kohat. And so there were stories filed by staff reporters, there were headlines composed by sub-editors, there were pictures taken by staff photographers, and there were opinions expressed by the more brainy staff members, just like any other day.
But there was precious little to inform, educate or entertain the reader. Unless the country’s prime minister threatening Karachi squatters is taken for entertainment; reproducing hand-outs and transcriptions goes for information; and subjective opinions are meant to educate.
One of the few original news items I found was on the back page of The Express Tribune and it was about two devolved government departments that have practically done nothing for months because the province’s assembly hasn’t done the necessary legislation to take them over. The departments have been sent but haven’t been received, like packages in the care of Pakistan Post. It was an interesting story with a couple of direct quotes as well, only it wasn’t presented as a journalist’s work. It was a piece in the Speakers’ Corner, written by Sonia Malik, who going by her head shot, seems young enough to be in school or college.
If her piece is journalism, what is it that fills dozens of broadsheet pages of that day? Does she have the right to introduce herself as a journalist, on the basis of this one piece alone? Do all the others who failed in their job to inform, educate or entertain the reader through their words, ideas and illustrations, have the right to introduce themselves as journalists? Is employer the only one to decide whether or not a person is a journalist? Who and what defines a journalist?
Tuesday 30 August 2011
PTV's dilemma
Working for the news department of Pakistan Television is a thankless job. It's all about second guessing the reaction of rulers to the content and treatment of news and opinions, and shaping them accordingly. In so doing, loyalty to the government far outweighs the integrity of facts, because the worth of PTV journalism is not decided by universal principles and ethics but the authority of a bureaucrat heading the ministry of information and broadcasting, and personal whims of whoever happens to hold power.
For better part of its half a century of existence, PTV has diligently upheld the supremacy of favourable spin over inconvenient truth, but is not always appreciated. Prime Minister Yusuf Raza Gilani, for one, is least impressed. On August 27, he ordered an inquiry into what newspaper reports termed 'unsatisfactory performance of PTV'. Mr. Gilani invoked people's right to access information, while directing the information secretary to conduct the probe.
What the PM perceived to be an infringement of people's right was apparently nothing more sinister than a little editing of his talk during an iftar party for media representatives. Parts of the Q&A session were edited in the PTV broadcast which incensed the PM so. According to a member of the inquiry team the producer of the event did not get a clean voice recording and edited out parts that were not audible. That created 'jumps' in the PM's otherwise smooth talk.
The probe is still on and the final report is expected to reflect the post-eid mood of the PM and his media advisers, rather than the merits of the case. If Mr. Gilani's ire was borne out of momentary drop in his blood pressure due to fasting, the producer will get away with a warning. If the prime ministerial displeasure persists after eid, the producer may have to do time in PTV Academy - the Kala Pani of the state broadcaster. What's certain either way is more insecurity among the PTV journalists and therefore more self-censorship, that will continue to redefine audiences' right to know.
For better part of its half a century of existence, PTV has diligently upheld the supremacy of favourable spin over inconvenient truth, but is not always appreciated. Prime Minister Yusuf Raza Gilani, for one, is least impressed. On August 27, he ordered an inquiry into what newspaper reports termed 'unsatisfactory performance of PTV'. Mr. Gilani invoked people's right to access information, while directing the information secretary to conduct the probe.
What the PM perceived to be an infringement of people's right was apparently nothing more sinister than a little editing of his talk during an iftar party for media representatives. Parts of the Q&A session were edited in the PTV broadcast which incensed the PM so. According to a member of the inquiry team the producer of the event did not get a clean voice recording and edited out parts that were not audible. That created 'jumps' in the PM's otherwise smooth talk.
The probe is still on and the final report is expected to reflect the post-eid mood of the PM and his media advisers, rather than the merits of the case. If Mr. Gilani's ire was borne out of momentary drop in his blood pressure due to fasting, the producer will get away with a warning. If the prime ministerial displeasure persists after eid, the producer may have to do time in PTV Academy - the Kala Pani of the state broadcaster. What's certain either way is more insecurity among the PTV journalists and therefore more self-censorship, that will continue to redefine audiences' right to know.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)