16 April 2008

Journalism Rises And Stumbles In The Republic of Georgia

Media works under restraints in Georgia

 
Georgian citizens (© AP Images)
Georgian citizens face down water cannon fire from security forces in the capital of Tbilisi.

By Karl Idsvoog

If real-world politics read like the fairy tales, then the downfall of a repressive government and the institution of democracy would bring a liberated press, an empowered citizenry, and a population better equipped with information to make national decisions. But ours is not a fairy-tale world.

 

In the former Soviet Republic of Georgia, a peaceful revolution brought the demise of a repressive and corrupt government in 2003. In the ensuing years, the Caucasus nation has made only halting progress toward its happily-ever-after ending. Immediately after what became known as the Rose Revolution, the newly empowered government initiated reforms and began outreach to the West, but was riven by internal disputes. In the weeks before this publication went to press, the government faced street protests and allegations of an alliance with Russia. The president responded by declaring a state of emergency. That order forced a shutdown of all private news organizations, which lasted for weeks and was met with international condemnation.

 

The Georgian media have not enjoyed the liberation experienced by colleagues in other nations where political reforms have been achieved, and the reasons for that are not well understood. Freedom of the Press 2007, issued by the nonprofit advocacy group Freedom House, offered this assessment of the media climate:

The Georgian constitution and the Law on Freedom of Speech and Expression guarantee freedom of expression, but throughout 2006, the government increasingly restricted press freedom. The restrictions rarely took the form of direct pressure, although there were reports of harassment and physical abuse of journalists by government officials… media owners and managers continue to exert pressure on journalists in an effort to maintain amicable ties with the authorities. As a result, journalists frequently practice self-censorship.

American television journalist and professor Karl Idsvoog made repeated trips to Georgia from 2002 to 2006 to train students in broadcast journalism at the Caucasus School of Journalism. Idsvoog, a professor at the Kent State University School of Journalism and Mass Communications in Ohio, has maintained contact with Georgian journalists, who describe to him their disappointment at how the Rose Revolution has affected their profession.

 

In 2001, the Republic of Georgia was a tough place to be a journalist.

There was one news operation that didn't wince, that didn't back off, that stood up like no other news operation in the post-Soviet world. It was Rustavi 2 television.

In 2001, tough reporting brought tough reaction. Rustavi 2 anchorman, 26-year-old Giorgi Sanaya, was murdered. Many believe it was in retaliation for his reporting. Sanaya questioned the policies and practices of President Eduard Shevernadze, but he was hardly alone in challenging the Tblisi government.

Akaki Gogichaishvili, anchor and originator of the station's investigative news program 60 Minutes, claimed his father had been fired from his state job in retaliation for reporting that Akaki had done. The investigative anchorman said every member of his staff had been threatened. Reporters said they would pick up the phone only to hear a voice say, "You will be dead tomorrow," or "We are going to rape your parents."

In 2001, threatening reporters wasn't enough. Rustavi 2's news director and lead anchor Nick Tabatadze got a call threatening the entire station. According to Tabatadze, Georgia's interior minister threatened to send military troops to ransack the station. Tabatadze responded by reporting the threat on the evening news. The following week, the government fired back. This time, the security ministry sent agents who demanded the station's financial records. Again, Tabatadze responded by reporting what was happening; only this time, he did it live. He ordered his photographers to roll cameras. Within minutes, Rustavi 2 was broadcasting the government's incursion into the newsroom to every television set in Georgia. To show their support for Rustavi 2, citizens flocked to the station and held an all-night vigil; the next day they marched on Parliament.

It was a dangerous but invigorating time to be a journalist in Georgia.

Then came the Rose Revolution. Shevernadze stepped down. Pro-democracy leader Mikhail Saakashvili stepped in. Working journalists in Georgia say the media did not share in the benefits of the Rose Revolution.

Following the Party Line

Two stations, Channel 9, which had tried diligently to do straight news reporting, and Iberia, closed. Management changed at Rustavi and so too did its approach to reporting.

Tbilisi street clashes  (© The New York Times)
Emotions run high during Tbilisi street clashes between protestors and security forces in November 2007.

Natia Abramia has since left the country, but she spent eight years reporting in Georgia and was at Rustavi 2 both before and after the revolution. Despite the threatening atmosphere of the Shevernadze era, Abramia recalls considerable media freedom at that time. "It was not professional and responsible, but it was free."

Post-Rose Revolution, Abramia says everyone started talking about "self-censorship." Rustavi 2, the station that once boldly challenged government officials to explain their actions, now telephoned officials to ask for advice on what to say. "I personally saw how journalists read their stories to governmental officials over the phone," says Abramia. She says reporters who did not take the official line had "problems."

A professionally educated journalist, who did not want to be identified because he needs his job at Rustavi 2, describes reporters' working environment in a single word: "degrading."

The editorial process he describes sounds like something straight from Soviet times. "We are not allowed to criticize the president, the minister of economy, the minister of defense, or the minister of internal affairs. Only 'good' topics are covered about these governmental structures."

Another veteran producer, editor, and videographer, who has left the newsroom but maintains contacts with reporters at all Tbilisi television stations, says sadly, "It should not be the way it is now." For business reasons, he too asked not to be identified. Asked to compare the state of journalism in Georgia now compared to before the Rose Revolution, he simply says, "It is worse."

Natia Abramia agrees, saying, "Local journalists find it increasingly dangerous to investigate, question, or criticize the government."

Trying to Make a Difference

Journalist Nino Zuriashvili and editor-videographer Alex Kvatashide used to produce some of Rustavi 2's most thorough investigative reports. But Zuriashvili now describes the station that used to take such an aggressive journalistic stance as "nothing but a voice of the government."

And she doesn't think Georgia will be well served by television company MZE, which was purchased by the brother of the minister of foreign affairs. Frustrated at the decline in serious journalism since the Rose Revolution, in January 2007 with funding from the European Commission, Zuriashvili and Kvatashidze started their own investigative production company, Monitor Studio. Finding solid stories was not a problem, but finding someone willing to broadcast them has been.

Zuriashvili and Kvatashidze got a tip that two innocent Georgians were imprisoned, tortured, and convicted based on fabricated evidence planted by government security agents at the direction of a top Georgian government official.

The reporting team wasn't alone in confirming the facts; so did the government's ombudsman, the public defender of Georgia.

Sozar Subari called a press conference to announce his findings. It was the typical press conference set up. All the microphones of all the stations were there. "Surprisingly," says Alex Kvatashidze, that night on the evening newscasts, "there was nothing." The TV news failed to report the negative findings even though they came from a government source.

Zuriashvili and Kvatashidze held a special viewing of their investigation, inviting embassy officials, heads of nongovernmental organizations, journalists, and news managers from every major news outlet in Tbilisi, Georgia's capital and home to its major media companies. The reporting team offered its completed investigation to any news organization that wanted it, free of charge. No station in Tbilisi would broadcast the report.

Even when broadcasters don't want to report, the technology now makes it nearly impossible for governments and corporations to control communication. Rustavi 2 may have, as its critics say, become the voice of the government. But technology is allowing journalists to do what journalists have always done: report stories of substance and significance to the people.

And it's that combination of technology and journalistic perseverance that keeps Kvatashidze optimistic. "We (and others like us) are still trying to get the message to the public," he says, adding with certainty, "Journalism is not dead in Georgia."

Monitor Studio's investigation into the false imprisonment of two Georgians is available at http://tinyurl.com/2rpo3g.

The opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect the views or policies of the U.S. government.

From the December 2007 edition of eJournal USA.

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