I WAS A broadcast journalist in India and when news about the string of terror attacks in Mumbai broke on the evening of November 26, I knew exactly what to expect from the television channels there.

The channels would splash the TV screens with ‘breaking news’ tags in bright red, the anchors would have phone-ins with their reporters from Mumbai, which would become live chats once the Outdoor Broadcast (OB) vans reached the spot(s); some reporters would upload ‘walk-throughs’; they would try to talk to eyewitnesses with timeless questions like “kya hua, kya dekha, aapko kaisa laga, police kitne der se pahunchi” (what happened, what did you see, how did you feel, how late was the police in arriving).

The second wave of the ‘breaking news’ reporting would be led by strings in red and black, with or without a Mumbai backdrop, and carrying bold headlines articulating each channel’s opinion of what the attacks mean to India. They would include labels like ‘India’s 9/11′ or ‘maut ka aatank’ (the scourge of death).

In this phase would come more eyewitness accounts. The crime reporters would go live with information about police and paramilitary movements, the scenes at hospitals, reactions of relatives and, of course, the politicians. More importantly, the channels would take on a nationalistic hue saying things like “India’s pride is attacked”, “Bharat will not submit to terrorism”, and so on. In the absence of any clear, factual information, it will be left to the anchors to mouth generalities or repeat themselves to keep the channels live.

In the third phase, the channels would intersperse spot visuals running in loops with graphics explaining the salient points over a map showing the points of attacks. By this time, the channels would have invited retired policemen, bureaucrats or terrorism experts to studios for live analysis. International reactions to the attacks would be beamed, along with human interest stories and, where possible, phone-ins from people holed up in the buildings where the attacks occurred.

If the attacks continued into the morning, as the ones in Mumbai did, the reporters, including senior journalists flown in overnight from New Delhi, would start a fresh cycle of the same news, with lives and walk-throughs, and give us their opinion of how the counterterrorism operations are going on. The bulk of the day’s reporting would focus on the ‘why’ of the attacks, notwithstanding the absence of any official statements on it.

The news channels, by and large, did not belie my expectations. And that is the point of this article.

Whether it is a story about a stampede in a temple, a boy falling into a manhole, a thief being beaten up by the public, the sensex going up or down, or an act of terrorism, the treatment by channels more or less follows the above routine. If one cares to go through the video archives of channels, one would find a striking similarity in even the words and phrases and visuals used then and now.

Indian journalists have been reporting on conflicts and terrorism for over two decades now, from the militancy in Punjab, Jammu and Kashmir and the north-eastern states, the low-intensity conflict on the India-Pakistan border, and in recent years, the number of attacks on several Indian cities – even the Indian Parliament – by so-called terrorist groups.

What is missing from reporting on terrorism in India, unfortunately, is the big picture, not only in terms of (a) exhaustive reportage on the event, but also in terms of (b) the geopolitical impact in the global sense.

The first points to the gullibility of the journalists, the second to their lack of awareness. Whether both notions are wrong and such impressions are primarily caused by the newsroom chaos in handling breaking news, it is up to the channels to introspect.

Novice journalists are often told by their seniors that the single mantra in a breaking news scenario is to keep one’s cool. That is the rule practiced more in the breach. Each channel has its own editorial crisis news committee that oversees how breaking news is treated. But somewhere along the way, things snap.

Often it is found there is no one in the newsroom drawing up coverage plans and directing the news team. As a result, the coverage is more of a dish-it-as-it-comes variety even after the first hour of the event. It is the duty of the newsroom seniors to ensure that information is not repeated throughout the news wheel, but is refreshed frequently. It is true that new information is flashed as soon as it comes, but it does not stand out in the general melee of visual loops and continuous, non-informative chats.

The worst aspect of television coverage in India is the abject display of sentiment by journalists. They use adjectives at random, deploring the terrorists and pining for the victims. The channels rave about “nationalism”, the “national spirit” and so on. A sense of an objective assessment of what is happening is, therefore, lost. A glaring example in the Mumbai attacks case is the killing of three senior officers of Mumbai’s anti-terrorism squad. The anchors broke the news with their throats constricted, searching for words like “sacrifice”, “altar of duty” and “honour”. What was lost were simple details like how they died, where they died, what were they doing, etc, which was left for later bulletins.

It is pertinent here to recall what Canadian journalist and media educator Ross Howard said at the 2003 International Roundtable on New Approaches to Conflict Reporting in Copenhagen on the use of sentiment by the media:

“Look at the work of the FOX Television network in the USA. During the invasion of Iraq, newscasters waved and wore American flags, and abandoned all impartiality or fairness by providing a kind of play-by-play home-team coverage of the war between ‘our boys versus the enemy’. It was not professional journalism. Increasingly, this uncritical (and overtly partisan) journalism is contributing to a dangerous American public isolation and insulation from reality on the global scene. Restoring and introducing critical thinking to Western journalism is a partial antidote to the FOX News style of journalism. We need to restore some old standards.”

In the initial hours of the Mumbai attacks, foreign channels were far ahead with factual information, which they culled out from blogs and chat rooms, and strengthened with details from interviews, including with guests at the two hotels attacked by the terrorists. Some foreign channels put the Mumbai attacks in perspective right away by giving a timeline of previous attacks in India to conclude that the latest strikes were actually an escalation in terrorism. They pointed out that unlike in previous cases, the current strikes also involved taking hostage of western nationals. It was a logical deduction on the basis of some good homework, plus locating the new angle of hostage-taking in the current strikes.

A major reason why the Indian channels looked no different the day after the attacks from the night before was sheer lack of information about the ongoing counter-terrorism operation by the security forces in the two Mumbai hotels where the terrorists were holed up with hostages. Broadcast journalism in India is no longer in its infancy and many of its practitioners have reported on conflicts worldwide and therefore, there is no excuse for substandard coverage of such a serious issue.

Secrecy on part of the official agencies and lack of access by journalists both played a role in this blank phase of news on the strikes on the second day. Indian journalists, routinely attuned to covering crime, often find it difficult to cope with such situations. How to keep their channels moving forward in such situations? Lack of knowledge about the country’s anti-terrorism apparatus, the types of agencies and personnel involved, and general information about their operational techniques appear to have hindered the journalists. As a result, uninformed theories, even rumours were reported as news.

Such reportage looks childish. Like, for instance, a channel showed its reporter, standing at the back of one of the Mumbai hotels, telling the audience that the police were clever enough to post themselves at the hotel’s rear so that the terrorists would not be able to escape unnoticed.  Knowledge about the encircling tactics of counter-terrorism agencies as well as the level of determination of the terrorists inside the hotel – would they allow themselves to be captured alive? – would have made the reporter’s chat more meaningful.

Even when channels secure tactical information about an operation, they should have second thoughts about broadcasting it for fear of the data benefiting the attackers. A couple of channels had some such information about the ongoing operation in Taj Mahal hotel in Mumbai, which they screamed as exclusive news, oblivious to the larger ethical questions involved.

What Indian broadcast journalism should now look for is specialised reporting on terrorism. Treating a terrorist strike story in the same way as a child falling into a manhole will not help, simply because news channels influence people’s perceptions and an unprofessional approach to news dissemination can result in inappropriate fallouts. Also, terrorism is not a domestic issue restricted to the borders of one country and as it is there exists enough evidence of its globally intertwined presence.

The Mumbai strikes were treated more as a local Mumbai event, rather than a national issue. The ‘national’ duty was discharged by becoming inanely sentimental. There was no attempt to see the strikes in the perspective of the global, or even sub-continental, spread of terrorism.

In such situations, journalists should keep in mind they are no longer dealing with local police or petty criminals. They should be able to raise the standard of reporting by making themselves aware of the causes, impact and nexus of terrorism beyond their own country’s borders. This calls for journalists undergoing training programmes in terrorism reporting, on the lines of conflict reporting.

More important than such training is developing a professional attitude when dealing with terrorism and not giving into bouts of sentimentality, which derails the whole purpose of reporting on such events. Not the least, journalists must realise that while it is professional to break the news first, a race to break it can be hazardous in such situations, with accuracy, objectivity and credibility the first victims.

Venkata Vemuri is a senior Indian journalist, currently doing his PhD in the UK. He can be reached at vevemuri@gmail.com

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In an increasingly global world, where one of the instruments of globalisation is the media, how is national interest to be negotiated with international actors? Who is ‘foreign’?

SINCE DRUDGE REPORT broke the news about Prince Harry serving in Afghanistan, several news organizations have carried stories about the ethical implications of the decision. The media agreement to stay silent on the issue has been the subject of self-scrutiny by the press, with prominent voices, such as Channel 4 presenter Jon Snow, arguing the event could be detrimental to media credibility. Consumers of the media, in contrast, seem to approve of the embargo, reacting negatively to both critics of the embargo and Drudge himself.

In this media blitz, it is likely some important issues will be relegated to the backburner. These concerns include: the limits and license of media in a global world; the global versus national obligations of media organizations; the connection between particular media formats and ethical imperatives; and the ambivalent relationship of media to narratives of nationalism and military heroism. Addressing these questions at the outset may productively complicate the discussion on media ethics.

In response to the Drudge leak, the British army chief said, “I am very disappointed that foreign websites have decided to run this story without consulting us.”

He goes on to say: “This is in stark contrast to the highly responsible attitude that the whole of the UK print and broadcast media, along with a small number of overseas, who have entered into an understanding with us over the coverage of Prince Harry on operations.

“After a lengthy period of discussion between the MoD and the editors of regional, national and international media, the editors took the commendable attitude to restrain their coverage.”

The reference to “foreign websites” is ostensibly a reference to the Drudge Report. But the attribution of ‘foreignness’ to the publication demands a closer look.

Who is foreign?

The UK and the US are part of a joint front in the war, and the UK, arguably, joined the war at the behest of the US. Drudge is an American citizen, and one who, for all his muckraking, has made his presence felt in American public and political life, even if he is on the margins of respectable journalism himself. Drudge’s profile in The Telegraph notes he is the “world’s most powerful journalist“, sought after by Republicans as well as Democrats.

As a basic principle of literary and textual analysis, one cannot know what exactly the British general intended by the invocation of foreigness. It may be asked, though, whether in his statement foreigness operates simply as a descriptive term here or an evaluative phrase. Given the context of its use, to some readers it may well be read as a lack of commitment to a British or Western cause and a corresponding lack of responsible British or Western values. In the general’s words, the upholding of national responsibility by the British media is contrasted with the irresponsibility of the foreign media. The international media, on the other hand, are commended for their cooperation with the British armed forces.

With due consideration of the problematic implications of overreading the general’s words, the distinction between an international media, supposedly made up of a responsible group of actors, and a more fractious set of foreign media actors opens up some crucial lines of inquiry for media professionals and scholars.

In an increasingly global world, where one of the instruments and embodiments of globalization is the media itself, how is national interest to be negotiated with international actors? Who is the imagined audience of this global or international media? Who defines membership in global media? Who is foreign to this world? Who is included within its ambit? On what basis? Who in the global media space has access to privileged information? On what terms and conditions?

The media space in new media markets may be, partly at least, structured by alliances between local news organizations or corporations and multinationals headquartered in the West.  This trend is likely to continue in India and other new arenas for global media markets.

The embargo controversy begs the question of who decides the position taken by the particular non-Western affiliate in question. Is there a policy that all such media affiliates anywhere in the world are expected to follow? Would the editors-in-chief of these affiliates be consulted about discussions? Did they have significant autonomy in the decision-marking process if it was of a consultative and consensual nature? Given that these news establishments and organizations are subject to the principles of national sovereignty, does (and should) a decision taken by an arm of the British state apply to them?

These issues also highlight the complex and vexed relationship between the apparatus of global financial capital that transcends national boundaries and the reach of national sovereignty.

Is Drudge Report ‘press’?

It is perhaps not accidental that an internet-only news initative broke the story. While sites like the Drudge Report do have a national location and identity, their institutional relationship with structures of political authority arguably grant them greater autonomy than other kinds of media organizations. Yet at the same time, Drudge also violated an agreement that the ‘press’ had entered into. In what sense precisely, one might query, is the Drudge Report part of the press? How, one might also ask, do constraints on autonomy influence ethical imperatives for new media as opposed to traditional media?

And, finally, it bears noting that in connection with Harry’s service in Afghanistan, the theater of war is depicted in several articles in the British Press as a crucible in which both individual and national character are forged. The London Times chronicled the transformation of Harry from “wastrel to warrior prince“. An article in the Telegraph, UK approvingly noted Harry’s newfound maturity, commenting on the fact that his example was likely to inspire many to sign up to enlist in the war effort. The narrative here is one of simultaneous personal redemption and national valor.

This narrative stands independently of the case for and against the war. Similarly, it is completely delinked from the discussions about the possible success or failure of the American forces in Iraq. The telos of war as a moral experience is separated from the concrete political objectives of the occupation of Iraq. How these parallel narratives complement and contradict each other might be the subject of an interesting story.

In the days to come, the debate and controversy surrounding the Drudge decision will continue to swirl in cyberspace, on the airwaves, and in print. Hopefully the discussion on the ethics of the embargo will encompass a vibrant, engaged debate on these related issues. The significance of Harry’s decision to fight in the war which papers across the political spectrum, from the Telegraph to the Guardian, have commented on is surely deserving of analysis. So is the mode in which the media itself have framed — and continue to frame — the event.

This is an updated version, revised on March 9, 2008.

See also: Harry Soldier and the Order of Pressmen

Image: Sunil Krishnan

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IN TIMES OF WAR, when PR mates unashamedly with frenzied nationalism, heroes are born by the dozen. It is a union the national media facilitates joyfully, never mind the ethical questions ignored therein.

Prince Harry’s rebirth is remarkable even by that standard. If in the past the media had only been passive or active participants in such passions, this time around it has been pronouncedly proactive.

I am all for responsible journalism, but I am not convinced by the ‘responsibility’ the British media showed in Harry’s Afghan adventures. I have three issues with it.

One, like Jon Snow, I believe the decision erodes media credibility. Particularly so, given the premeditated nature of the event. This was no spontaneous episode that had to be contained — Harry didn’t wake up one fine morning and go to Afghanistan on his own, he was sent there — and as such there was no ethical compulsion on the media to agree to an embargo. It agreed because it managed a backroom barter: here is our silence, now you give us Harry in soundbites and videoclips.

As a journalist fairly familiar with military actions, I understand that agreements at the tactical level form the heart of many war reports. I will even say all reports involve some kind of a ‘deal’ — no source talks to you for the pure love of talking, there is always a quid pro quo.

While I am reasonably comfortable with that at a personal level, I am not so with a strategic deal of this sort. It was not as if there was a national peril looming and the media had to close flanks and rush to uphold its responsibility to the society. Even if that was the case, I am not sure that is the best strategy, but that is another argument.

So the media did what it did for a ‘better’ story. I am sure the decision was debated, even “agonized” over, but the point is it went through — and something tells me the editors were thinking more of circulation and audience figures and page views than quality journalism.

All in all, it reminds me a bit of the arms deals you see in movies.

The kind in which regimes buy guns, receive kickbacks — and the public carries on oblivious.

Mr Chomsky, you were right

The public carried on oblivious. That is my second point.

Public opinion is crucial in a democratic society, we all know. We also know the media’s fundamental responsibility is to provide for a public sphere, an arena where citizens can exchange thoughts and ideas and question political will.

By agreeing to a blackout, the British media did exactly the opposite. Not only did it not provide for an informed public sphere, it did not provide for any public sphere.

Worse, it strangled the life out of one. That is first-degree murder.

Result? No debate on a decision of political significance (let me point you to Simon Jenkin’s arguments for why this is significant). Some 15 MoD officials, the media, and the prince’s family and close friends knew of it — and they, I am sure you will agree, do not constitute the general public.

I guess Mr Chomsky was right.

Plugs and princely servings

More alarming is what happened after Matt Drudge did his bit.

Even as the media patted itself on the back for the ‘restraint’ it showed with one hand, with the other it dished out princely servings of Harry topped with every sinful dressing in the spin world.

There was Harry firing a machine gun, Harry on a motorbike; Harry shirtless, Harry tucking into jam and biscuits; Harry playing rugby, Harry ‘patrolling’ on foot; Harry talking of mom, Harry rejecting the ‘hero’ label…

As ‘anti-establishment’ British Parliamentarian George Galloway put it, the media gave him to us “as the pin-up of the armed forces, one of the lads, full of derring-do, a British hero on Afghanistan’s plains straight out of Tennyson or Kipling”.

This is all too slick for my sceptical mind. I can’t believe the boy prone to publicity bloopers till the other day is suddenly doing and saying such pat things all on his own.

I certainly can’t believe the mainstream journalists were taken in by this ‘transformation’ either.

The sheer volume, the all-positive spin, the slickness of it, all points to media management and compliance. Not just on what to cover when, but on how to as well. God help us if this was the “deeper insight into a new side of Prince Harry” that Society of Editors chief Bob Satchell promised us.

The long and short of it is that publicists have managed to turn Harry into a hero overnight. And the media, the mediator of the public, its watchdog, processed — nay, happily assisted — it with no questions asked.

Perhaps Harry is the stuff heroes are made of. Perhaps he isn’t. As of now we have no evidence, bar the words of sources — and the media — recorded in a prearranged PR exercise.

They used to have a word for such reportage in old-fashioned journalism: plug.

The cost of compliance

In postscript, a few questions…

If you are not part of a deal, can you really “blow” it? The “understanding” on the Harry story was between the MoD and British editors. In other words, the “foreign press” — read New Idea, Bild and Drudge Report – were not under embargo. So were they “irresponsible”? Or were they doing their duty to their readers, who, not incidentally, are not British?

Given the extent to which the British army went to ensure Harry’s security (they spent nearly half a year just negotiating media silence), how credible is the claim Harry ran “the same risks as everyone else in his battle group”?

From what I read on discussion boards, the majority of British public appears happy with the blackout. Could this be because the British media supported it and hence took pains to persuade the public to see its way?

If the public is happy with one blackout, will it embolden the media to go for more of such in future?

All in all, was the exercise worth the price of media compliance? Did it achieve something in the larger scheme of things?

I see one positive. This debate.

See also: Whose prince? Whose war?

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