Welcome to the Dark Side

As the accountability against politicians and bureaucrats grinds on, there are occasional complaints in the Press that two institutions have been left out, namely the military and the judiciary.

Actually, there is a third sacred cow that has not been touched, and nor has it been mentioned very often: the Press itself. There was a huge furore when General Pervez Musharaf once referred to “lifafa journalism” during a press conference in New York last year. (The “lifafa” is the envelope in which hacks on the take get their alleged kickbacks from their paymasters). The general was told to either name names or back off. In the event, our Chief Executive decided that discretion was the better part of valour.

But from time to time, this allegation has surfaced and ruffled the feathers of editorial writers and columnists who indignantly and forcefully defend the pristine integrity of their colleagues. A few days ago in Lahore at a small dinner party, an ex-federal minister disclosed that during his stint in government, the then head of an intelligence agency had given him lists of journalists who were supplied with booze and visas by the Indian High Commission; there was also a list of journalists supposedly on the payroll of the U.S. Embassy.

I only wish the chief spook had included those journalists who get “lifafas” from his and other federal and provincial agencies on a regular basis. Indeed, when he was the federal minister for information, Javed Jabbar had disclosed that his ministry had previously kept an entire stable of newspapermen on its payroll and paid them off from its secret fund, but the present government had ended this practise.

It is a fact that the print media has played a major role in the removal of elected governments, and in the final analysis, it is answerable to nobody. Each time one political party wins an election, its rivals begin a destabilising campaign aimed at dislodging it, and are supported in their efforts by shadowy intelligence agencies through their team of journalists. All kinds of rumours and allegations are given currency, and after they have been widely reported, acquire a life of their own. Soon, mainstream newspapers are reporting them as the gospel truth, and the government is put on the defensive, using energy and political capital in denying real and concocted charges.

To illustrate this point, I would ask readers to recall a particularly bizarre charge that was laid at Asif Zardari’s door during Benazir Bhutto’s first stint. A British businessman of Pakistani origin claimed that he had collected funds in the UK for a charitable hospital here, but this money had been extorted from him by Asif Zardari’s henchmen who had then proceeded to tie a bomb around his waist and driven him to the airport from where he caught a plane to London.

When the story appeared, all hell broke loose. Lurid details were published and the Prime Minister furiously denied the charge as did her spouse. The Washington Post carried a long report filed by its reporter in Pakistan, Kamran Khan. All of us were convinced that where there was smoke, there must be some fire. But when the PPP government fell, and Zardari was tried for this alleged crime, a curious story emerged. Apparently, the complainant’s wife had been allotted a plot of land “on compassionate grounds” in Lahore by the then opposition leader and Punjab chief minister, Nawaz Sharif. And when cross-examined by the defence lawyer, Aitizaz Ahsan, the accuser tripped up every time he opened his mouth. For instance, when asked at what point he informed the airport authorities that he had a bomb tied to him, he had no answer. According to his testimony, he walked through the security checks at Karachi airport, got on to a plane, landed at Heathrow and went home without telling anybody that he was carrying a bomb. It later emerged that he had allegedly defrauded the donors of the money they had contributed, and then come up with this story to deflect their wrath; he had been aided and abetted by Nawaz Sharif and his crew, together with their paid hacks.

Looking back, it seems amazing that we all bought this ludicrous story at the time. But apart from being widely reported, it formed part of the charge-sheet against the Bhutto government. Once the feeding frenzy had begun, independent newspapers and writers joined in to grab a bite. Let me hasten to add, however, that the story was even remotely credible because of Zardari’s image as Mr Ten Percent.

A few years ago, The Friday Times ran a story giving names, amounts, dates and cheque numbers of payments made to journalists and others by Nawaz Sharif from the chief minister’s official secret fund. Several reporters and columnists were allotted plots of land. But no action was taken against those thus named and shamed by the editors or publishers of the newspapers concerned.

Those on the payrolls of political parties or intelligence agencies are often established professionals; there is another species of bottom feeders who practise outright blackmail. Working in obscure publications, they threaten public figures or bureaucrats with embarrassing disclosures unless they pay up; payment can take the shape of favours or a couple of bottles of booze. Then there is the tribe of reporters who work for mainstream papers and charge a fee for covering events or reporting on the activities of public figures.

It is an unfortunate fact that many newspaper owners grossly underpay their staff, closing their eyes to the corruption that goes on, or indeed profiting by it. This whole business of railway and air travel concessions to journalists and housing colonies for them at subsidised rates is nothing less than institutionalised state patronage.

Having no doubt angered many colleagues, let me hasten to add that there are fortunately many honourable men and women in the profession who have fearlessly exposed the truth and turned down all bribes and blandishments. A number of writers, editors and publishers have stood up to authoritarian governments and suffered as a consequence. When we talk of the freedom of the Press in Pakistan, it is important to remember that that it was wrested from autocrats by brave journalists, and was not handed to them on a platter.

However, we must also be honest enough to admit that there is much wrong with our profession, and the beginning of the rot lies in the pay structure. For far too many owners, this is a business as any other in which you squeeze the employee and screw the consumer to maximise profits. For ill paid (or unpaid) hacks, the temptation to join the gravy train must be overwhelming. I suppose I can afford to moralise on the subject as I do not depend on journalism for a living. But until we openly debate and denounce the corruption in journalism, we cannot really condemn it in other institutions.