We attack each other on television; we gloat when a colleague is attacked or arrested; we have no empathy when journalists are jailed; we have become a nasty bunch. This comes along with supplicancy, insofar as those in power are concerned. We, visibly and vocally, scrape the ground; we grovel; we take handouts; we follow instructions, and we ignore the poor and the oppressed
Seema Mustafa, former president of the Editor’s Guild of India, seasoned journalist and Editor of The Citizen, https://www.thecitizen.in/ speaks of the yester-years of journalism in India when it was a passion, and a not a job, how difficult it is to run an independent media enterprise in contemporary times, a journalist is nothing but a messenger, and why a well-informed reporter is simply matchless. In conversation with Amit Sengupta, Editor, timesheadline.in
I was in my early 20s then, doing my Masters in JNU, when you arrived for a late night public meeting in a hostel mess in JNU. It was packed with students. You had just returned from Beirut after covering a violent conflict zone, perhaps, the first journalist from India. Do you recall that meeting? And your experience in Beirut?
I have a memory of that meeting, but not the details. Or, even what I shared. It is a long story but it was an experience that I can never forget, even as I often wonder what made me do it.
I do know that I was in the Indian Express when I decided to go to cover the war. I discussed the details with our photographer there, but we did not have the money to even personally afford a ticket. I was offered a job in The Telegraph of Calcutta at the same time. I told the executive editor, Kewal Verma, who was heading the operations in Delhi, that I would join only if they sent me to Beirut. He agreed, and off I went with an air ticket and $500 to see me through a war zone.
I arrived in Syria without an address, to find the airport deserted. I somehow found my way to the Indian Embassy and the Ambassador said he could not give me permission to go (remember that we did not have diplomatic relations with Israel back then in 1982), as the Israeli army was controlling part of the highway, and I would be arrested without trace. Anyway, I was smuggled through in a Palestinian jeep, hiding on the floor, as we went through the Syria-Lebanon border.
I was deposited at the Bekaa Valley where I truly came to understand what amazing people the Palestinians were — and are! They had come from all over the world in response to just ‘one call’ from the Palestine Liberation Organisation (PLO) chief, Yasser Arafat. The first port of call were the orchards of the Bekaa Valley in Lebanon where they lived, until they were directed to go into Beirut through routes that were obviously far away from the roads and the highways.
I was there for four days until they found me a vehicle that they said was safe — clearly the driver was working for both sides, but was more in the confidence of the Palestinians—and I went through five Israeli checkpoints without being checked !
We were stopped at each checkpoint, but the driver would say something and we would be told to go. Maybe he told them I was an Israeli spy. I reached the gates of Beirut and was never more relieved to see the Palestinians.
To cut a long story short—read my book that should be out soon—I was in war-torn Beirut for seven days with buildings being bombed near me, with the suffering and trauma of the people marked by a high sense of determination and resolve that they would not desert the Palestinians.
After a long and illustrious stint holding the highest positions in mainstream English media in India, working with top editors, reporters and special correspondents, etc, how and when did you start The Citizen? You had earlier published web newspaper, almost single-handed, The Front Page, which too was a novel venture in Indian journalism. What was the motivation which drove you to publish The Citizen?
The death of journalism in India, as we knew it, was the single motivating factor. Used to a certain freedom and having worked with top editors in the business, I knew that corporate control was becoming a stranglehold; and the nexus between the government and corporates was strengthening day by day. Editors had started losing their jobs.
I was asked by the owners of Asian Age to confirm that I would support Sonia Gandhi and the Congress party upon which I resigned. My stories even before that were meddled with and censored by editors who had started compromising with rapidity, compelling me to quit a series of jobs. And working journalists were being sacked in the hundreds.
Television had long since compromised — indeed, I do not think it was ever truly free, given the money power behind each channel – and print was fast losing its independence. I had no money, and thought of going online to give an outlet to independent journalists, including, of course, myself.
This was ten years ago, before there was any real competition, and I felt I would be able to manage. We did — with the amazing support of younger journalists and experts in the business, but it became truly a labour of love, as there were no financial dividends. Even so, we struggled on, got philanthropic funding for a short while, with the support only growing.
However, I am under no illusion —the power even today lies with television and the print media—and it is this that needs to be freed from the grip of governments and corporations. Or else, journalism in India will be made totally redundant, which is happening slowly.
You have run The Citizen, an independent and highly respected media organisation, with in-depth, well-researched analysis on national and international issues, arts and culture writings, impressionistic and eclectic writings, and superb ground reporting for many years — against all odds. It is indeed difficult to run a newspaper/portal with no corporate or political links, and no advertisements at all. And, yet, some of the best writers, experts and journalists chose to write for you, and felt great satisfaction when their articles were duly published. Tell us your experience as an editor of this refreshing, non-partisan, secular and non-dogmatic media venture, with a clear editorial policy.
Part of the answer I have covered above. But it has been very tough, since, while I know how to run the editorial side of a newspaper, I am absolutely useless when it comes to the business side. So that has made us even more dependent on the support that you have outlined and it has made the entire process so amazing.
The Citizen has become an extended family, as that is the kind of support one has got — from journalists like you Amit.
We have had quality reporting and writing, and whenever we have faltered for funds, we have got support of the “forget the money, just keep going” kind of firm assurance, which has made this journey so fulfilling. We opened the forum not to opinion-makers which many such efforts try to do, but to young, enterprising students, and young professionals of India.
The word spread that any young person looking for space could send their article to us, and someone from our team would even work with them (if the idea was good, of course) to hone the effort into a good, solid report. We held workshops for young people, and the response was always enthusiastic and exciting. I wish we had more funds; we would have done so much more for those seeking to find their feet in journalism (as it should be, not as it is).
You started as a reporter in the Indian Express, if I am right. As a young journalist, I keenly followed your ‘Rural Reporting’, and followed it up later in my professional life as a journalist. I started my journalism career with The Patriot. Has grassroots reporting totally changed in the current circumstances? What has happened to the original foot-soldier — the reporter of a newspaper?
I actually started in The Patriot, after a short stint in The Pioneer, Lucknow, which I joined while I was still waiting for my exam results. I was taking that as a passport to Delhi, which is where I intended to be always.
I worked with (famous freedom fighter and founder of The Patriot), Aruna Asaf Ali, and (legendary editor) Edatata Narayanan, and colleagues who literally shaped me. Seasoned journalist, John Dayal, was my first chief reporter. And I learnt how not to accept any version, to investigate, to question, to ask, and to write the hard facts — regardless of who was pleased or who was upset. I was the first woman journalist, and they had to convert one of the toilets for me.
Mr Narayanan was a shy editor, and while appreciative of some of my writings, never shouted or yelled at me — given the fact he had everyone quaking in their boots. From the peons to the teleprinter operators, to the men in the printing press, we all were one large camaraderie where Arunaji was loved and respected, and Mr Narayanan feared, loved and respected.
What an experience in the field it was!
From there I went on to the Indian Express where the reporting went to yet another level under Kuldip Nayar and Arun Shourie. Again, a bunch of talented and very supportive colleagues. Rural reporting was not a beat but it was something all of us were insisting on — to cover everything that was happening, from the rape of Dalits in the villages; to communal conflicts; to the impact of social schemes on the ground.
We went through a ‘beat system’ and it took about ten years – often more— for us to be allowed anywhere near politics. That, when the editors were sure that we knew all that there was to know in city reporting, from the general functions, to universities, to crime, to the municipality, to the underbelly of the capital.
This hard work made us real reporters and made news an instinct almost.
All of us from those times can smell fake news, and detect the lies that politicians and others spin.
Television cut all this training out, and brought in young, pretty people to flood the corridors of power, chasing VIPs and getting bytes. It is no wonder then that one such ‘journalist’ chanced upon then Union Home Minister (late) Indrajit Gupta (a highly respected leader of the CPI), asked him a silly question, and after he sort of responded, asked him — who he was!
The last few years have been tough, especially since 2014. Journalists and editors have decided to toe the line, mostly, in print and TV journalism. Some of them are not even bending, but choosing to crawl. Journalists refuse to ask tough questions in press conferences. They look the other way when confronted with fake news. They don’t report on the establishment. They don’t break exclusive stories. Your comments.
I think a recent scene at Antony Blinken’s farewell press conference at the White House spoke volumes of both the American and the Indian media. Two journalists questioned him on Gaza, tough questions, and they were both dragged out, while the entire press corp watched in silence. Being dragged out is not something new, but the silence of journalist colleagues, while one of their own is manhandled, is a sad reflection on the media today.
We came into journalism post-Emergency and were participants in a sort of new awakening, where journalists became extremely conscious of their rights and freedom, and came together to protect it. We were out with protests and processions at the first hint of censorship — be it through Press Bills brought in by Karanataka and Bihar at the time. We struck work in the Press Gallery in protest against restrictions; we walked out of press conferences if a politician or any other was rude to any of our colleagues. It was an exhilarating unity that made these people respect us and treat us with kid gloves.
That has all disappeared, and in contemporary media, the dog loves eating the dog.
We attack each other on television; we gloat when a colleague is attacked or arrested; we have no empathy when journalists are jailed; we have become a nasty bunch.
And this comes along with supplicancy, insofar as the government or those in power are concerned. We, visibly and vocally, scrape the ground; we grovel; we take handouts; we follow instructions — and we ignore the poor and the oppressed.
The Press is no longer the medium through which the marginalized voices are carried to the corridors of power. It is an echo chamber of voices in power.
A sad and pathetic reflection of what we were, and what journalism stands for today.
Barring a few ground reporters for local newspapers and youtube channels, rural reporting is more or less dead in mainstream media. The Citizen took my series on the adivasis in remote forests of India, and their political and daily struggles. Not many would like to publish such articles. You encouraged me, and published them promptly. Will this genre of journalism once again revive in India?
Yes, your work was excellent. And we were very happy to publish the series.
The villages have slowly and gradually disappeared from the front pages that are now preoccupied with the rich and powerful. Of course, rural journalism will revive, if journalism is to revive. Without it, our death will be complete, and all that will remain is to bury the fourth pillar of democracy along with the rest.
Besides, there is an alternative media on YouTube that is brave, committed, and follows the tenets of journalism. It is very heartening to see this grow.
In terms of focusing on international affairs or foreign policy, the role of Indian media has been abysmal. The Citizen was a pleasant departure. Was it always like this in mainstream Indian media? For instance, check our coverage of Gaza, Ukraine, and earlier, the Gulf War.
I think that comes from my interest in foreign policy and the fact that many experts writing for us are well-versed in international relations. We all believe that domestic and foreign policy is closely linked, and international happenings have a major impact on the world and on governments and people. The genocide in Gaza has shown precisely this.
It is unfortunate though that the Indian media has never really appreciated this or made the effort to find out the truth, away from the reporting by the big and corporate controlled-agencies that bring the Global South to us from a highly discriminatory perspective. The business-owners spend very little money on news-gathering, cutting costs in salaries, infrastructure and facilities. They do not post reporters outside India — the instances of doing so are rare and far in between. The result is that our reliance on global news agencies is complete, and, hence, a growing inability to report with insight and perspective, free of western machinations.
Despite a financial crunch, and adverse circumstances, an undefeated The Citizen continues its innings. How do you manage to do that?
Just through support and dedication I guess. We have had to cut costs as we do not have any corporate or political godfather or mother for that matter. We are truly independent of any control, and hence there are periods when we have to cut back.
This time it really hurt as I had to disband an amazing team, but everyone remains together despite all this. Our contributors continue to write without payment. But, while I accept and actually encourage former diplomats, military men, academics and others in the same league to write pro bono, I follow the rule of never accepting any report from a journalist without payment, token or otherwise. Journalists outside the ‘legacy media’ are exploited, poorly paid, and I certainly do not want to join the ranks of those who have no respect for the work done.
I also believe that while we should create, nurture and use the space to be critical, there is no need for us to be personal. Adjectives against leaders, regardless of the party, are not encouraged in The Citizen; facts, then, speak for themselves.
We are here as journalists to inform, without hurling slurs and the average reader is intelligent enough to understand.
I also do not allow any compromise insofar as the tenets of the Indian Constitution are concerned, and that makes it easy, since it is an excellent yardstick for a journalist. Attacks on it are to be defended.
Final question. What is your message to young journalists, especially reporters?
Three points:
1. Journalism is a noble profession. It is a passion more than a job, and for good reporting, you might, these days, have to sacrifice money. If it is money you are after, join television (though that too reserves the lakhs for anchors, and not reporters in the field), or find another job.
2. Read, read, and read, information is your weapon. Read the Constitution of India, read the debates of the Constituent Assembly, study at least the basics of law that remains with you forever. A well- informed reporter is matchless, as he or she brings a perspective that is then not marred by basic ignorance and stupidity.
3. Never forget that you are just a messenger between the poor, the deprived and the victimised, and the corridors of power. Often those in power do not listen, but that should not stop you from reporting the truth and raising the voice of the voiceless.
It is extremely difficult to do the last given the environment we live in. However, even so, there is some space even now, and you should make use of it.
Originally published in Times Headline
