Part I. What do we know—and if not, why not?
In autumn 1997, the Commission for Freedom of Access to Information carried out a survey on “The Population and Information.” Covering only Moscow city and Moscow province, the results cannot reliably be applied to the whole of Russia, but no other figures are available. Nonetheless, some of the results give reason for serious deliberation.
Asked to cite information sources for various aspects of life, citizens named firstly the media (from 53% for information about daily life to 79% for politics), and secondly, conversations at work (from 22% on financial affairs to 29% in the field of culture).
They were also asked how informative they considered these sources to be in particular areas. Those who rated them “high” were literally in single figures, and only for education did 25.2% of those polled give a rating of “high.” A large percentage rated their knowledge of what is going on around them as “low,” ranging from 29% for politics to 57% for matters of social security.
The respondents gave similarly low ratings to their knowledge of the activities of various institutions of the state and society. The figures were as follows:
Institution % rating their knowledge “low”
the executive
44.8%
the legislature
46.1%
law-enforcement and judiciary
46.2 %
state enterprises and organisations
47.2%
parties and public organisations
50.7%
financial structures
53.8%
corporate structures
56.5%
Especially alarming is the media’s high rating as a source of information against it’s low qualitative value.
But maybe our citizens can ferret out the missing information for themselves?
Unfortunately, the same survey revealed that two thirds of those polled had in some way or other been refused information. The most frequent forms of refusal were:
the required information does not exist
27%
it is classified
24.2%
staff too busy
23.9%
sheer bloody-mindedness
28.8%
All these data look particularly dramatic when one takes into account the following facts. Firstly, according to expert opinion, the number of refusals in 1997 was considerably up on the figures for 1992-95. Secondly, very few people tried to challenge these refusals, 2.9 % by publicising the fact that information was being withheld, and 3.6% through the courts. (Unfortunately there are no figures on how many eventually managed to get the information they required).
And what about access to information for a specific group of citizens—the journalists. Here are a few observations from the same survey.
Official information sources are gradually growing weaker as private sources become more popular. Compared to 1996, journalists’ applications for information to the legislature and executive, fell by 17% and almost 8% respectively, in 1997. At the same time, 13% more journalists used corporate structures for information while 17% more used financial structures. The most impressive increase was to be found in the number journalists who obtained information from private individuals, up from 39.7% in 1996, to 56.5% in 1997. One can surely conclude, therefore, that state officials appear in these figures more and more often as private individuals?
The survey also indicated that media editors and rank-and-file journalists prefer different sources. For example, 70.4% of editors, compared to 29.6% of journalists, prefer the legislature as a source of information. Editors also apply for information to the law-enforcement services and political parties with significantly more frequency than journalists, who seem to prefer corporate and financial structures, and private individuals. The greatest difference between these two groups can be observed in the case of press services—24% of editors to 75.8% of journalists. The more one goes into detail, the more it emerges that the editorial profession has become incorporated into the upper echelons of power, where editors feel they “belong.” Indeed, in Moscow there is not a single serious media organ whose boss does not have a direct line to the corridors of power.
Only 16% of journalists testified they had never been refused information, while 83.8% claimed to have been refused “frequently” or “on a few occasions.” Surprisingly these figures are an improvement on 1996, as the number who encountered no refusals at all is up by 7%, and those who were “frequently” refused is likewise down by 7%.
The type of information most frequently withheld was the same in 1997 as 1996. The front runners are facts, documents and statistical data—the very bread and butter of journalism, while as far as other facts are concerned, it is the law enforcement bodies and the courts who are most uncommunicative. The easiest things for journalists to acquire are plans and projects.
Journalists’ requests for information are refused for a variety of reasons. The most frequent is the basis of official or commercial secrecy, with “the bosses have forbidden it” coming a close second. The justification of “Secrecy” is cited most frequently by the legislature, political parties and public organisations. Moreover, two new trends appeared in 1997. Firstly, the demand of money in return for information, and secondly, a fear among those in possession of information that co-operation with the media would incur some unpleasantness for themselves. 13% of journalists were not even given the courtesy of an explanation for the refusal of their request.
It would be nice to be able to say that journalists put up a fight for information. But, unlike their readers and viewers, although 45% of them make public the fact that information was withheld, only 2.4% are prepared to take the matter to the courts.
With the media’s access to information so limited, it is hardly surprising that, as the survey revealed, ordinary citizens are so inadequately informed.
Part II. Legislation—Effective and Dead Letters
The principal law regulating the information sector is still the law “On the Mass Media,” but for all its evident merits, it is insufficient to deal with present-day reality. In 1997, one of the principal factors governing the work of the media was money. But, practically speaking, this law does not regulate property relations (proprietor-editor, taxes and subsidies, sponsor-media, monopolies, etc.) and the situation is beginning to look threatening. The danger is not private ownership of the media, but the fact that the relations of these new private owners and the media are not regulated by law.
It has emerged that the media, in particular, newspapers which had to learn to survive under Soviet conditions, were totally unprepared for the realities of the new era. The legal position of the media is at best, formulated incorrectly, and at worst, not formulated at all. If any statutes governing editorial boards exist at all, then neither the rights of the work-force nor the rights of the editor are specified. Legal status is not defined. Media organs may be called joint-stock companies, closed joint-stock companies, or limited liability companies, but usually are so only in name. Not only does this create a fertile seedbed for disputes and a basis for all kinds of embezzlements from within, it also permits pressure from outside. In particular, unclear property relations make editorial teams vulnerable, as nobody knows the basis on which they occupy the premises where they work, or the status of the property they have acquired over the past few years.
Privatisation of printing works is now in progress and will soon be virtually complete. However, editorial offices will not be receiving a stake in them, as specified by the Law of State Property.
All these factors make it easy to apply repressive measures to “refractory” publications without infringing the letter of the Law “On the Mass Media,” intended to protect their independence. During 1997, there was a marked increase both in the variety and intensity of such measures.
As yet, there is no special law “On TV and Radio” and the existing regulatory mechanisms are ineffective (and/or corrupt?). Consequently, an unprecedented situation has developed in broadcasting whereby dozens of virtually identical “mass-culture” radio-stations have appeared, with the same faceless, flashy disc-jockeys running things. Sometimes these disc-jockeys know who the owner is, sometimes not—and certainly no one else does. Registered “founders” are replaced with no regard for legal formalities, and there are constant buy-ups and buy-outs, to say nothing of covert transfers of licences. Throughout 1997, the Licensing Commission of the Federal Council for TV and Radio (FCTR) found it impossible to get, Moscow based radio “Klassika” back into the legal format on which it won the tender for its licence.
Officially, radio frequencies are assigned by the FCTR, with licences granted in accordance to Government Resolution No 1359, 7 December 1994. In practice, however, there are a huge number of rule breaches, including many by the presidential authority, and the governing bodies of Moscow city and region.
Looking ahead, one should note that the bill “On TV and Radio,” which has been passed by the Duma on its first reading, gives little hope of improvement as it is aimed more at maintaining political consensus than establishing real legal regulation.
Regional TV companies are rapidly being absorbed into the large networks, such as NTV, TV-6, REN-TV etc. In the absence of proper regulations or any effective control mechanisms, this process, natural enough in itself, means a decline in broadcasting standards and the disappearance of many local TV companies serving regional needs. Ultimately, this often results in acts of violence, the most recent and blatant of which occurred in Novosibirsk, during the night of 2/3 January 1998, with the attempted murder of one of the most capable and independent regional managers, Yakov London, President of the NTSC network.
The law “On the Mass Media,” was followed by a number of laws, regulations, and decrees on the media and information, which have had practically no effect on the situation. The Draft Tax Code has effectively repealed the, already ineffective, Federal Law “On State Support for the Mass Media and Film Industry of the Russian Federation,” while the law “On Economic Support for Regional (City) Newspapers,” which was supposed to come into force in 1997, exists on paper rather than in practice.
Most deplorably, not a single case has been recorded of Presidential Decree No.810, June 1996, being implemented—the Decree which (in point three) obliges governing bodies at all levels to respond to media criticism directed against their departments or subordinates.
Therefore, rules to regulate the media either in toto or in various aspects are being made at local and regional levels. The vast majority of these local regulations repeat what is laid down in the Federal Law—in which case they tend to be incorrectly formulated, and hence do more harm than good. Alternatively and contrary to the Constitution, they introduce additional constraints on the work of the media, the least harmful of which simply set up local committees, or, as in Saratov, “Ministries of the Media,” to regulate, (i.e. manage) the local media.
One such example regards the rules of accreditation introduced by local authorities. Giving concrete form to what is stated in fairly general terms in the Law “On the Mass Media,” the rules are aimed not at extending the possibilities for accredited journalists to obtain information from official departments, but at introducing various means of restricting their activity, and introducing various forms of supervision and control, contrary to the sense of that law.
Thus the only journalists who can be accredited to the Kalmyk Parliament are those from the state-owned media, while in the republic of Bashkortostan, Russian journalists (unless they are citizens of that Republic) have to be accredited as “foreigners.” Likewise, journalists accredited to the State Council of the republic of Adygeya and to the Head of the Administration of the Komi Republic are required to comply with certain “ethical standards.” Similar types of “casus” may be observed in the Perm Provincial Administration, in the rules on accreditation to the Bryansk, Saratov, and Kostroma provincial dumas, etc.
The creation of municipalities, with a special status not written into the Law “On the Mass Media” allows them to refuse information to journalists on the grounds that the Law does not oblige them to do so.
And all this is only a very incomplete survey of the paradoxes in our current legislation.
Part III. State Policy on the Media
The first problem is that policy is not formulated. Statutory minimum obligations regarding state information are not defined, while the budget resources allocated for these purposes are never actually available in full.
One of the clearest examples was the establishment in 1997 of the “Culture” TV Channel, without proper consideration of the resources available. With financial contributions from the state budget minimal, and blatantly insufficient, advertising on this channel was also forbidden. Under these conditions, how could the channel be expected to survive without illegal or semi-legal sponsors?
Secondly—and worryingly—there is the widespread concept of the “single information space” (SIS). This has been turned into a kind of phantom, to which everyone pays homage, but no one knows what it is.
For some reason, it is understood that SIS encompasses the possibility of disseminating the same information over the whole territory of the state. We, however, believe SIS allows the possibility of guaranteeing every citizen the fullest possible spectrum of facts and opinions in this state. This would, of course, include the official versions of state organs, which we know from experience, cannot and should not pretend to be the only and ultimate truth. On the contrary, it is precisely from seeing how far this official version is confirmed by other versions and facts that the citizen has a chance to decide just what sort of government he or she has elected.
The failure of SIS does not lie in the fact that the Federal newspapers are becoming more and more papers of the area, “within the outer Moscow ring road,” or that radio frequencies are being transferred from state to private ownership. Rather, it starts when no newspaper, nor radio nor TV channel, whether state or privately owned, gives or tries to give the broadest possible spectrum of views and opinions existing in society—or, indeed, sees any obligation to do so.
Another type of breakdown occurs when in certain territories some body holds a virtual monopoly on local, regional “truth.” This has been attempted, with a fair degree of success, in the Pskov province of Bashkortostan, Kemerovo, Udmurtiya, and even in Moscow, where, for example, not a single newspaper or broadcasting station decided to voice the general public’s doubts about the amazing regularity in the elections to the Moscow Duma, where the entire “Luzhkov list” won across the board. As a result, citizens were left thinking that Yuriy M. Luzhkov was the first mortal to have abolished the theory of probability!
In 1997, another entirely new trend was observed, as measures to “stateize” the media were presented as state policy for saving the press. Such actions, which contradict the very meaning of freedom of expression, have the support of the current State Duma and the executive powers in the regions. Amendments introduced to existing laws make the concept of “state media” virtually unlimited. These cover not only those paid for by the state but also those in which the state has any stake at all (even if only a few kopecks), those subsidised by local or municipal budgets, and those which benefit from tax concessions stipulated by Federal law.
In Rostov province, an attempt has been made to introduce a local law making all newspapers in receipt of subsidies municipal enterprises. To further drive them into the “municipal stall” they are threatened by the withdrawal of their subsidies. In other regions, this “spontaneous” process is going forward without recourse to the law. Cases of the status of founders being arbitrarily revoked, or new “co-founders” imposed without any consultation with the other “founders” (who, as a rule are the work-force or journalistic staff) are rife. This is particularly so after local elections, where the incoming leadership clamps down on those media organs which did not support it during the election campaign, while showing its paternalism in the form of subsidies for those organs which “behaved properly.”
Similar forced measures have also been used by Federal authorities. Here it is sufficient to recall two orders of the “guardian” of Russian media, Mr Chubays, who dismissed the editor of a Tambov newspaper (subsequently revoked) and the editor of the journal Rossiyskaya Federatsiya (later reinstated when the government ceased to be a “founder” of this journal).
A characteristic feature of this absence of a state policy on the media, if not the most important one, is the attitude of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to the defence of the rights of Russian journalists in other countries of the former Soviet Union and to the rights of Russian citizens to full and reliable information from these countries. The Ministry failed to react either to the expulsion of the Russian journalists Sviridov and Stupnikov from Belarus, the de facto closure of the NTV base in Crimea, the murder of the Russian Public TV journalist Niikulin in Tajikistan (which the authorities there showed no interest in solving), or to the provocation aimed at the journalist Vasilevetskiy in that country. This list, which is far from complete, illustrates the equanimity of our state officials towards what happens to Russian journalists and the Russian media as a whole, and it is precisely the Ministry of Foreign Affairs which ought to ensure that Russian readers and viewers have the chance to receive a detailed and continuous flow of information from these countries.
The relatively liberal trend of 1995 and early 1996 was replaced, in 1997, by an effectual end to state support for the media and their abandonment to the arbitrary decisions of local power elites, (see the “Appeal of Media Chiefs to the Head of State” Rossiyskaya Gazeta, 18.10.1997). One can only conclude that instead of encouraging self-regulation of the press, the state—that is, both branches of power, the administration and the legislature—is trying to introduce new mechanisms for regulating it and extending their scope of application.
Part IV. The position of journalists
The Glasnost Defence Foundation (GDF) maintains a continuous watch, monitoring disputes involving the media and individual journalists, and the figures it compiles bear witness to the dynamics and content of these processes. Drawn from the Federal and Moscow Press, news agencies, the electronic media, and also from ten regional centres, the figures are undoubtedly incomplete and in no way indicate the full extent of such incidents. Even in Moscow, and far more so in the regions, an enormous number of disputes remain implicit and latent.
In 1997, some 773 disputes were recorded, as against 370, in 1996, for the same territory and monitoring conditions. Not only is the sheer increase in numbers alarming, so is the change in the nature of the incidents. In 1996, the media were the injured parties in 60.5% of cases, while journalists were indicted in 39.55%. In 1997, however, the ratio had substantially changed, with the corresponding figures being 53.4% and 47.6%. This means that charges of defamation, insult and slander against journalists, have increased spectacularly.
We shall discuss this type of dispute in more detail later. For the moment, let us consider the position of journalists. According to GDF data, in 1997, 14 journalists met violent deaths, while a fifteenth committed suicide after a six-month humiliating and vain pursuit of salary owing to him. Only in three of the cases can it be said with certainty that the killing was not connected with the victims’ professional activities. In all other cases, the explanations of the law-enforcement bodies remained vague, right up to the moment that the investigations were closed “since it has proved impossible to trace the culprits.” Thus the list of unsolved murders of journalists grows longer every year and their names swell Russia’s Book of Martyrs.
There were 42 cases recorded last year of journalists being beaten up, 12 of them resulting in serious injury. In several cases it was obvious the attacks were related to their professional activity, since the only things stolen from them were materials from stories they were investigating, and documents intended for publication.
Threats connected to what journalists have already published or, particularly worrying, what they are intending to publish, is pressure with a particularly rich, latent (i.e. non-explicit) substratum. And there seems little point in filing a complaint about mere threats, since even when journalists are actually beaten up, an investigation is launched only in one case out of four, or at best, one in three. Moreover, as a rule, police and prosecution alike want to write-off everything as common crime, and ignore incidents directly related to the professional activity of the victims.
A statement by the Union of Journalists of Russia published in September 1997 made this assertion:
The material situation of journalists is deteriorating. The average monthly salary of journalists of the regional media is now one third of the average pay in Russia as a whole. Forty per cent of journalists receive for their arduous and often dangerous work between $50-$100 a month and 60% between $100 and $120. Media workers are one of the worst-off groups in the country.
The situation in Moscow is quite different, though just as unnatural. At one recent conference, Tretyakov, the editor of Nezavisimaya Gazeta urged his fellow editors to establish an agreed maximum of pay, in the region of $1200-1500, so as to prevent top journalists being lured from one to another. Moscow journalists are coining it, but this turns out to be no less dangerous for the consumers of information, the ordinary citizens, than is the poverty of journalists in the regions.
The lack of proper market forces means that, essentially, journalists are unaffected by the results of their work. This is true primarily of printed publications but also applies to the electronic media, even though they do receive feedback from the consumer via the channel ratings or individual programmes. The development of a mechanism which would really make the media depend on readers, listeners, and viewers should be a priority of legislation and law-enforcement, but nothing of the sort is happening. Hence, real competition between journalists and their publications (companies) is being replaced, more and more, by sensations, scandals, and sleaze. Moreover, lacking financial independence, the media are being transformed from real sources of information into the political tools of groups, clans, elites, and the like. With an inability to pay their way, compensation by the owner, whether banker or provincial administrator, renders the media obedient, controllable and subservient.
Even if an organ itself has already been bought, there is still the possibility of privatising, personally, any journalist working for it, and the more resounding the journalist’s name, the greater the temptation.
Ethical norms and standards in journalism operate only at a partial, informal level. Statements such as “We won’t bought by you!”, or, “I never print anything without having it confirmed by at least two sources,” are becoming more and more an exception and rarity. Many young journalists now consider them as “dyed-in-the-wool romanticism.”
Many journalists, by the way, are virtually legal illiterates. Only just over half are acquainted with the Law “On the Mass Media,” with 14% aware of the constitutional norms on the freedom of expression, and a mere 10% knowing that certain matters dealing with information are dealt with by the Criminal and Civil Codes. This means that legal issues are only important for them when they become personally involved in disputes over what they have published, and face prosecutions for defamation and slander.
Part V. Lawsuits against Journalists and the Media
In 1995, such suits constituted 15% of all recorded disputes, in 1996, 35%, and in 1997, 45%. This increase is very significant especially when one takes into account that unlike the disputes in which the media are plaintiffs (where more than 40% of the disputes submitted for legal examination are actually not proceeded with when journalists or the media are defendants), up to 97% are proceeded with. In up to 70% of cases the verdict goes against the media.
What do these alarming, or rather, catastrophic figures mean? That journalistic standards are at a low ebb? That journalists are unable or unwilling to check their facts? That their command of the Russian language is insufficient? That they are legal illiterates? (This last is certainly true!)
The mass media regularly transgress the law, dealing with political and economic life in a one-sided and biased manner, both in Moscow and in the regions. Their professional skills are insufficient. All too often they are unable to express an idea or present a fact in an irreproachable manner. Editors, frantic for sensation, all too often embellish innocent articles with exotic and potentially slanderous headlines. The media have become politicised beyond all measure, devoting up to 80% of page-area or screen time, not to how society lives, but to who is trying to govern them. Journalists have not mastered the safety code, while editorial offices are too poor to maintain an in-house lawyer, to check copy for possible repercussions. If they do want to consult a qualified media lawyer on some particular issue, there are virtually nonavailable. Not a single law school in Russia offers courses in this speciality. Despite being true, these factors, neither separately nor as a whole, are sufficient to produce or explain this amazing disproportion. The army of those who “thirst after justice” does not consist of ordinary citizens, who account for not more than 105 of plaintiffs. The rest are what the West refers to as “public figures,” candidates for office, members of parliament or regional assemblies, officials of various ranks, and show-business sharks (people who intentionally and of their own free will put themselves at the focus of attention of the press, and who, according to European and American traditions need to be especially circumspect in their words and deeds, avoiding every cause for criticism and not blaming the mirror if . . . .). But this is not the reality and the lion’s share of cases concern not only criminal charges, where the prosecution is obliged to disprove the allegations, but civil suits, which are rather a matter of evaluations, choice of expressions and comparisons.
Firstly, when bringing such a case, the plaintiff risks nothing. Whatever absurd damages are sought, even ten billion roubles, only a tax equal to one tenth of a “minimum salary” is levied.
Secondly, as a rule, he does not have to go into court himself. Everything is done through his lawyers. Hence, even if all the facts and allegations are upheld, he suffers no embarrassment.
Thirdly, especially in the regions, the courts are still not really independent of the local authorities and in many cases, when the local leadership prosecutes the press, they simply rubber-stamp the plea without bothering with legal niceties.
Fourthly, the legislation on which such cases are based is far from perfect. It is sufficient to note that the majority of terminologies involved, including “slander” and “moral damage,” have no clear legal definitions, leaving judges, even the most upright and honest, obliged to form their own, off the cuff, judgements as to their meaning, according to inner promptings.
Fifthly, judge’s qualifications still leave considerable room for improvement, while at least half of the verdicts are reached without consulting experts, without textual analysis or visual materials forming the basis of the charge. Consequently, such verdicts regularly involve the inversion of responsibility, as the text deals with some department and how badly it works, while the verdict deals with the honour and dignity of its boss and even compensates him for moral damage.
Sixthly, and finally, the media, by publishing materials which fall into its hands or giving reliable quotations from the speeches or interviews of others, contrary to the sense of the law become the defendants, or in the best instances, co-defendants of those who gave the interview or sent the material. After all, it was not Larisa Kislinskaya herself who photographed Minister Kovalev in the sauna through the key-hole? Why was she prosecuted, and not the secret services who pried into his private life? Because, and this is customary, fashionable, and most important according to the tacit mutual agreement of the court and plaintiff, the law considers that journalists who will not reveal their sources of information must pay the penalty in their place.
Part VI. Sources of information
In 1997, efforts were intensified to strengthen “security of information.” In the Duma, a whole new doctrine of “info-security” was developed, which envisaged and attempted to provoke a return to the bacchanalia of total secrecy. The authors of this policy were the representatives of those very departments which are frequently in breach of the law on state secrecy, often to their own considerable advantage.
In a recent interview, the editor of the journal Itogi deplored the fact that the moment that there was an interruption of pay in the “power” departments, there was a sudden burst of exposes of sleaze offered for sale and publication. Where else did all these secret materials come from? There were transcripts of illegally (or legally) tapped telephone conversations, materials from cases still under investigation, and interviews from the public prosecutor’s office in which a person still being investigated was referred to as a “criminal.” Of course, in some cases the leaking of such information is an act of civil courage on the part of some employee of the investigation service, who realises that publication is virtually the only way of stopping a promising case from being quietly closed. But for the most part, it is either a matter of blatant profit, or else part of a larger political (or economic) game, in which anything goes.
As a result, the press has become a kind of sewer, into which all kinds of filth can flow. It cannot check these assertions, and is faced with a dilemma. Publish them and increase circulation or keep your hands clean and don’t publish, knowing for certain that your competitors will. Papers willing to make such a sacrifice are becoming a rarity.
Such “leaks,” of course, can prove dangerous even in the most obvious sense of the word. At the height of the election campaign for the Moscow City Duma, the newspaper Tverskaya 13, owned by the Mayor’s office, published a list of candidates “with a criminal past.” These included some whose convictions had been lifted, others like Fr Gleb Yakunin, who had been sentenced for political dissidence, and some like Yevgeniiy Prochechkin, who had simply been involved in a fight. Where else, other than the law-enforcement services, could this leak of confidential and, in many cases, misleading information have derived?
In St Petersburg too, someone stole, or more probably bought from the law-enforcement services a whole data-base of personal information on the inhabitants of the city and, without a qualm, offered it for sale at a moderate price. Who should be held responsible for this? The media organs which carried advertisements for this service? So far there has been no sign of an investigation into this unprecedented scandal.
Other sources of information are the press-services, and there is no law regulating the activities of these organisations which are proliferating everywhere. The vast majority of them, instead of acting as a compass in the sea of information, filter through what information suits a particular department, arranging informal contacts with journalists, i.e. to pick out those willing to eat out of their, the agencies, hands. How often the entire country has been witness to a wide-scale and brazen lie which the press-secretary of one of the “power” Ministries in Chechnia has tried to force on society. Not one of them have been punished.
The most recent attempt to delude the public occurred in December 1997, on the jubilee day of the Cheka (the original name for the Soviet secret police) when absolute incompetence, poor training, and unsuitability to the profession was represented to astonished viewers as the courage and success of the Federal Security Department. But this is only the tip of the iceberg. An honest journalist must check, several times, the official version of a story put out by any organisation if he does not want to be simply a stupid microphone that can be used to propagate any lies. It is quite obvious that in the absence of any serious control on the part of the press itself, our citizens will once again be “fed” only lies about successes and achievements.
And this must be fought in the official departments themselves, but not by gagging journalists. Otherwise society will be like a doctor trying to cure syphilis by plastic surgery.
The information coverage of election teams sound an exceptionally strong alarm. Certain legislative steps taken by the Duma, and certain instructions issued by the Central Electoral Committee indicate that someone or other would like the only source of information about a candidate to come from the candidate himself and his trusty team. Expanding the group of media organs that are obliged to publish (free of charge) the political campaigns of candidates, the granting of free air time to candidates for self-advertisement, during which journalists have practically no chance either to interpose a question or to comment on these monologues, can do little to help readers and viewers construct a true picture of the candidate. In the final analysis, this is an infringement of voters rights.
Brief Conclusions
If freedom of expression is taken to mean the right of the citizen not only to speak but also to be heard, then the media leave the citizen and society very little of this freedom indeed.
If the rulers are the head, and society the body, then our present-day press behaves life a fun-house mirror. Everything is distorted as the rulers occupy up to 80% of page-space and air-time, while society, with all its problems, is squeezed into what remains. Journalism is becoming ever more egoistic and self-complacent. It makes no effort to gather and express the opinion of society, nor try to form that opinion by thoughtful and objective information. Instead, it willingly publishes personal or editorial opinions, presenting them as those of society, and “convenient” information as objective. But it would be, to say the least, unjust, to blame only journalism and the press for this.
The state still monopolises printing plants, the delivery of newspapers and journals, relay lines, TV masts and TV and radio transmitters. The press cannot feel free, while these state levers interfere in the link between the media and their customers.
The on-going economic recession make it impossible, firstly, to transform state broadcasting into a public service protected against the diktat of the state, since any attempt to introduce a scheme of paying for public TV or radio would simply mean that millions of sets would be switched off. Secondly, it is impossible to create a media market with equal opportunities for all, since it is impossible to compete on equal terms without a single set of rules on the game, and when some competitors survive by their own desperate efforts while others enjoy state or municipal protectionism. Thirdly, it is impossible to prevent the media being “bought” and used for political purposes when it costs a citizen up to 60% of his monthly salary to take out an annual subscription to a newspaper, as opposed 6% in “pre-reform” times.
In Russia today, there are no clear state priorities. Time and again the ruling powers have failed to keep their promises and are, moreover, incapable of either recognising their errors or naming and punishing those functionaries responsible for them. Under these circumstances, to blame the press for the loss of mutual confidence between citizens and the ruling powers is like blaming the waiter for the fact that the bar-tender has dirty hands, since the waiter may be boorish and indifferent to the needs of the clientele, but all the same, it is the bar-tender who pours out the drinks.
Can one not say though that the press is guilty of the moral degradation of society by coarseness, violence and pornography, and that Russia’s law-makers are trying to take steps against this? No way.
The majority of such attempts are aimed not at vulgarity or violence, but against the press itself. Their essence may be seen in the making of the “Parliamentary Hour” programme, which is forbidden from showing any vulgarity and violence which may occur during the sittings of our legislators. Not to take action against Members dragging each other around by the hair, but rather against the TV cameras which show this.
As a result, the basic trend of current law-making to improve means of regulating the flow of information is patently clear from the following comparison.
Law of the Russian Federation “On the Mass Media” of 27 December, 1991, Article 2 provides:
Meanwhile, the Constitution of the Russian Federation,
Article 29, states briefly and succinctly: “5. The freedom of the mass
media is guaranteed. Censorship is forbidden.”