BY MADHU PRASAD
The day the Delhi
High Court delivered its verdict on the December 2001 Parliament attack
case, a couple of colleagues of SAR Geelani, lecturer in Arabic at Delhi
University’s Zakir Hussain College and prime accused who along with two
others had been given a death sentence by the POTA trial court, rushed
back to the staff room with the good news that he had been acquitted. The
media followed, bemused and not a little confused that we were
celebrating. In particular, I recall being asked by a reporter from the
NDTV news channel if we were happy now that the ‘kalank’ (stain) on
the name of the college had been removed. I replied with surprise that
nothing had blemished our institution’s reputation, for Geelani had
consistently asserted his innocence and we had believed in him, but that a
number of prestigious media houses, including NDTV, were now publicly
covered in muck.
The night before
the acquittal, NDTV had once again referred to Geelani as a ‘terrorist’
and member of the Jaish-e-Mohammed! The reporter had the grace to look
embarrassed but neither his channel nor any of the others who uncritically
accepted and publicised the version of the Special Branch of the Delhi
police felt they had erred professionally in what they had done or even
seemed to be aware that they had in fact interfered in the conduct of a
fair trial for the four accused in the case. No personal apologies
followed nor were any corrective editorial measures undertaken.
Apparently, the media felt it was simply not accountable for, nor did it
assume any responsibility for, its role in influencing public opinion.
Media coverage had much to do with creating an environment that dismissed
even the possibility of innocence of the accused as a lack of
‘patriotism’.
The point was
sharply brought home a few weeks ago when news of the Supreme Court
judgement, upholding the death sentence for Mohammad Afzal and fixing the
date of his execution, broke. Almost all channels carried the news
prominently, as was to be expected. What was objectionable was that the
news was accompanied by a replay of Afzal’s so-called ‘confession’ at a
press conference that the Special Branch of the Delhi police had called
before the trial within days of his arrest. Later, during his trial, Afzal
had stated that this ‘confession’ had been extracted after torture and the
court had found it inadmissible as evidence. But none of this had the
slightest effect on the media, which probably found the sound bites
appropriately sensational and accessible with minimum effort. The constant
replaying of this ‘confession’ across channels without the subsequent
‘story’ of it being inadmissible evidence played an undeniable role in
determining opinion against the appeal for presidential clemency. At
another level, by selective reportage surely the media reflected its own
attitude towards professional exactitude and credibility?
The coverage of
the 1993 Mumbai blasts convictions also follows a selective pattern of
focus and emphasis. The 13-year delay in bringing the guilty to book was
headlined both in the electronic and the print media but almost no report
asked why no action has been taken against those responsible for the two
month long pogrom targeting one community, which preceded the blasts in
Bombay. The question is not one of balancing crimes against one another
but of the media functioning as the conscience of society in ensuring that
justice is done and that victims are not denied public expression of their
grievances because of their religion, caste or social class.
Of course the
media would ‘target’ the high profile Sunjay Dutt case given public
interest in the popular Bollywood star, but what accounts for the fact
that the incidents relating to Madhukar Sarpotdar, reportedly found to
have a stockpile of weapons in his jeep during the 1993 riots, have simply
dropped out of media view? The Srikrishna Commission Report gathers dust,
yet it documents the complicity of the police and administration. Is this
not an issue of vital concern for a democratic society? Does the media not
have the responsibility to keep at the forefront, and in the public eye,
matters that are sought to be swept under the carpet by vested interests?
The notion of freedom of the press loses its critical value if the media
fails to perform effectively in this area.
Where is the news
coverage of the Malegaon blasts with the dead comprising mainly women and
children under 12? Why do questions of the involvement of the Bajrang Dal
and other Hindutva organisations in bomb terror attacks on mosques in
Parbhani and elsewhere get silenced within days of the involvement of
these organisations being discovered? In April this year, bombs exploded
inside the home of activists of these organisations in Nanded in
Maharashtra killing two persons. It was police investigations that
provided details of the involvement of these organisations in making
bombs. There is kid glove treatment of all information or news relating to
the Hindutva elements that contrasts blatantly with the ease with which
any Muslim ‘suspects’ or Islamic organisations are labelled ‘terrorist’ or
‘Pakistani’. This continues unabated despite shocking exposures like the
one at Chattisingpora or the Yakoob (Khwaja Yunus) case. It is another
matter altogether that Giriraj Kishore of the VHP repeatedly declared in a
TV interview with Shekhar Suman some years ago that they (he and his
organisation) were ‘atankvadis’ and that spreading terror among
those who stood in the way of implementing the Hindutva agenda was their
express intention. This arrogant pronouncement found no repetition or
resonance anywhere else in the media nor attracted any adverse comment.
Stereotypical
responses have been so internalised by large sections of the media that
they appear spontaneous and ‘normal’. Consequently, one feels that one is
almost overreacting in drawing attention to the qualitatively different
responses in the media to some obscure maulvis objecting to Sania
Mirza’s tennis wear on the one hand and the SGPC (Shiromani Gurdwara
Parbandhak Committee) reaction to Sikh cricketer Harbhajan Singh removing
his turban for an advertisement on the other. The former was highlighted
as a ‘fatwa’ (which it was not) that was retrogressive (which it was) but
also threatening (overtones which it seemed to acquire because of the
media splash). Sania’s mature response was presented as distancing herself
from her religion and not from narrow-minded elements within it. In
contrast, the powerful SGPC’s position was carefully and temperately
reported, its impact was not claimed to carry negative implications for
the Sikh community as a whole and Harbhajan Singh’s pusillanimous apology
was even lauded as a sober and commendable corrective!
The mindset that
has come to dominate the electronic media and the front page headlines and
reporting of even the print media, notable and welcome exceptions on the
central pages notwithstanding, predictably ignores, undermines or frankly
ridicules social groups and forces that are not part of, or are victims
of, the neo-liberal agenda and lifestyle. (Remember when the Indian media
couldn’t speak of Laloo Prasad Yadav without an actual or metaphoric smirk
on its face? The tone has changed completely since the great Indian
Railways turnaround!) The way in which the anti-reservation campaign of a
section of doctors in New Delhi and elsewhere was highlighted and given
prominence without even a comment on the graceless and offensive use of
sweeping and polishing shoes as ‘symbols and forms of protest’, was most
disturbing. The issue itself, though debated and discussed in articles and
interviews, could not overcome the sense of a public relations campaign
for the anti-reservationists. The fact that the actions, frequent,
demonstrative and articulate, of those supporting the social justice
policies were almost blacked out of media prominence certainly helped to
create the general effect of a losing battle that did not deserve wide
public support.
The media’s lack
of an appropriate response, barring some important exceptions, to the
passing away of BSP leader Kanshi Ram, showed both political and
intellectual bankruptcy. A leader who changed the character and contours
of Indian politics in such a significant manner seemed not to even attract
much notice by the media. The references made by Mayawati to the legacy
and role of Kanshi Ram were presented only as instances of her ‘playing
politics’. One could not help but contrast this with the 24X7 coverage of
the last days of the BJP’s Pramod Mahajan (undoubtedly a friend of many
leading journalists but hardly a significant or lasting contributor to the
Indian political landscape) and subsequently, even of the drug scandal
surrounding his son. It was difficult not to conclude, with some degree of
nostalgia for its proud past, that the Indian media was not just
preoccupied with trivia but that it had trivialised its own role.
In contrast, the
role of the media in reopening the Priyadarshini Mattoo and Jessica Lal
cases has been commendable but a couple of swallows hardly make a summer.
The wake up call is sounded and the choice between being significantly
free and being commercially successful but trivialised is one that
confronts a media with a long and powerful tradition of independence that
it could be endangering if the present trends continue unabated.
(Madhu Prasad
teaches philosophy at Zakir Hussain College. She is active
with the People’s Campaign for Common Schooling and other secular
democratic causes.)