Volume 9 Numbers 1/2

Winter/Spring 2000

Feature

Putin's Russia
     Glasnost Under Siege
     Putin and the Media- No Love Lost
     Oleg Panfilov

At noon on December 31, 1999, President Boris Yeltsin freely bestowed his authority as Russia's head of state on Vladimir Putin. He unilaterally transferred to his successor the Kremlin office, the attaché case containing the launch codes to Russia's nuclear arsenal, the right to receive other heads of state, and a great deal else. Yet one thing that Yeltsin amply possessed, which he did not or could not bequeath to his protégé, was the ability to find a common language with the media, a personal inclina-tion to defend the media, and-most of all-the ability to manufacture quickly the appearance of freedom of speech and freedom of the press in Russia. Although Yeltsin and the media were never enam-ored of one another, they had worked out a clear relationship that was tantamount to a gentlemen's agree-ment. President Yeltsin voiced his displeasure with the media only on rare occasions, and the media responded in kind and with restraint. Only the communist, nation-alistic, and patriotic press was unstinting in its criticism, calling the Russian government and Yeltsin himself "bloody" and "antinational," presumably two of the worst possible political attributes. But neither Yeltsin nor his government ever threatened to curtail the right of journalists to practice their profession. When government functionaries at all levels think about freedom of the press, they have in mind the 1991 Law on Mass Media, as well as the constitu-tional guarantees requiring that Russia's citizens receive accurate and objective information. In reality, however, government officials and employees are traditionally averse to observing the laws and often interpret constitutional rights arbitrarily, depending on whether or not particular circumstances favor them personally. In addition, the legal right to freedom of the press may be curtailed indirectly: for example, by a state monopoly over typesetting plants (approximately 80 percent) or over the mass-communications infra-structure (more than 90 percent). Although they do not formally restrict the right of journalists to practice their profession, regional government officials at every level apply pressure on independent newspapers and television and radio stations by threatening to raise the price of typesetting or rebroadcasting services. The media is also effectively dependent on the government because of the political activism of those financial organizations-banks or large industrial corporations-that own newspapers as well as televi-sion and radio stations. This unhappy situation has not only split Russian newspapers into rival political camps, it has also fractured the very concept of freedom of speech and the press. Commentators, in both the print and the broadcast media, invariably identify with the owners' political leanings. Depending on these leanings, every media organiza-tion occupies an easily identified position in the political spectrum, as has been especially evident during election campaigns.

A third means of confining journalistic freedom is the sophisticated set of tactics used by the government to obstruct access to information. Of these, the most effective is accreditation, of which Russia's government officials have a rather unique interpretation. Virtually all the administrative divisions of Russia, as well as the majority of its major cities, have passed resolutions that in many ways violate both the provisions of the 1991 Law on Mass Media and the Constitution. Journalists applying for accreditation are sometimes required to reveal their pseudonyms and submit all articles they have published during the preceding year. Thus it was that, on January 1, 2000, Vladimir Putin inherited not only the reins of power but also the obligation of "looking in the mirror"-the mirror being a favorite metaphor for the media among Russia's champions of democratic freedoms. It is a mirror into which the government is naturally loath to look and frequently attempts to shroud. From the first days of his ascent to power, Putin has done both. First, his government ignores the media. Then, when this becomes impossible-in other words, when the media lavishes too much attention on current events-the government attempts to intimidate them. This was the case with Andrei Babitsky of Radio Liberty (who reported from behind Chechen lines), against whom the government has filed charges. Something similar happened before the Duma elections, when the government's Vneshekonom Bank suddenly demanded that NTV television repay a $42 million loan. And because the media take the personality traits of Russia's highest officials into account (for example, Boris Yeltsin's penchant for calling his colleagues in the West by their nicknames or Viktor Chernomyrdin's ability to flummox his interpreters with a "Russian" idiom comprehensible to himself alone), they have to elucidate Putin's idiosyncrasies as well. Not surpris-ingly, his career in the KGB has left an indelible mark on his personality, his relationships with other people, and, most noticeably, on his public pronouncements. No matter how much Putin and his confrères have tried to convince the public that the person now fulfilling the duties of head of state is a man of demo-cratic convictions, Putin's interpretation of current events and his relations with the West frequently contain overtones of a Cold War rhetoric typical of the Soviet era. Putin, whose personal style has definitely affected the media, has also developed a complicated relationship with them. How to control the media The first ten weeks of Putin's premiership did not see any substantive changes in Russia's laws. But during his first month as acting president, several documents appeared, signed by Putin, regulating the mass media. The first, dated January 2, is a federal law amending the Law on Economic Support of Regional (Urban) Newspapers. The earlier legislation, passed in 1995, provided for the financial compensation of excessive expenditures by government-owned publishing houses. The new law now firmly ties the media to the govern-ment, making them more dependent on decisions of officials who offer or withhold financial aid to newspa-pers on the basis of the latter's political loyalties. The second document, signed by Putin on January 10, is a decree entitled The National Security Concept of the Russian Federation. (See the article by Nikolai Sokov in this issue.) This decree, to be precise, is an amended version of the Concept ratified by Boris Yeltsin on December 17, 1997. Putin worked on the text of the new Concept himself, and for this reason it may be considered as representative of his positions on Russian domestic and foreign policy. Several sections of the Concept contain provisions pertaining to mass-information policy.

The first section, "Russia in the World Community," notes that "Russia will promote the formation of a multipolar world using, among other things, informational means." The second section, "Russia's National Interests," states that "Russia's national interests in the information field include the preservation of the constitutional rights and freedoms of its citizens to receive and use information; the development of modern telecommunications tech-nology; and the protection of government information sources from unauthorized access." The third section, "Threats to the National Security of the Russian Federation," concerns foreign threats to Russia in the information field. These include the "effort by a number of countries to dominate the world's informa-tion system by excluding Russia from the domestic and foreign information market; government-spon-sored information wars that create means to influence dangerously events in other countries; the abuse or misuse of information and telecommunications systems; and security breaches in information resources and unauthorized access to them." The following measures are set forth in "Ensuring the National Security of the Russian Federation," the Concept's fourth and final section: ". . . the introduction of a ban on the use of airtime in electronic mass media that promote violence or exploit the basest instincts of prejudicial behavior; counteracting the negative influence of foreign reli-gious organizations and missionaries. The most important tasks to be completed, in order to guar-antee the security of the Russian Federation's information resources, are the realization of the constitutional rights and freedoms of Russia's citizens in the information sphere; defense of Russia's national information infrastructure; integration of the Russian Federation into the world's information domain; and counteracting the threat of confronta-tion in the information field."

The most sobering provision is contained in a section describing the supposed fomenting of infor-mation wars by unnamed governments. Language reminiscent of the Cold War reappears here, and not without reason: this segment refers to the activity of Western radio stations broadcasting in Russia-Radio Liberty, the BBC, and Deutsche Welle. It is entirely possible that the persecution of Andrei Babitsky was implemented under this provision. There is yet another document concerned specifically with the activities of radio and television. Signed by Putin on January 25, the resolution, On Competition for Land-Based Broadcasting of Radio and Television and the Establishment and Adoption of New Frequencies for Radio and Television Broadcasting, sets forth the principles by which bidding for broadcast licenses is to be conducted. In effect, the resolution again ties the activities of inde-pendent radio and television stations to the decisions of government officials. Moreover, stations are required to pay a considerable sum of money-equiv-alent to $1 million-just to participate in the bidding. Russia will not be the first post-Soviet govern-ment to have adopted a bidding system for broadcast licenses as a means of controlling disobedient media organizations. In December 1996 and February 1997, Kazakhstan's government made use of such a system, with the result that several popular television and radio stations of modest financial means were shut down because they could not afford the $125,000 participa-tion fee. The sad experience of Kazakhstan demonstrates that neither popularity nor profession-alism determines the winners and losers in the competition for broadcast rights. Lastly, we might note in passing some changes in the laws meant to have an effect on presidential campaigns. On the second day in his new post as acting president, Putin signed a law entitled On the Introduction of Additions and Changes to the RSFSR Civil Code on Administrative Violations of the Law. Ratified by the Duma on December 1, 1999, this legislation is not necessarily representative of Putin's political thinking, but it codifies penalties for various types of violations of election campaign law. The law, it should be observed, does not specify restrictions on, or penalties for, the use of television and radio airtime by presidential candidates who happen to occupy leading posts in government insti-tutions. As acting prime minister, Putin himself received the overwhelming majority of airtime on Russian news programs. Yet for other candidates, the law set strict limits on the amount of airtime they might use to broadcast video clips or public appear-ances. It even regulated the time of day when such material could be aired. The media and the war in Chechnya The Russian government, having suffered defeat in the first Chechen war, faces two enemies in the second- not only Chechens but also journalists. In the first conflict, journalists played an important role in airing the truth of what was going on, and possibly, as a result, in helping put an end to the war. In doing so, these journalists risked their lives to report on the horrors of what the Kremlin called the "establishment of a consti-tutional government" in the Chechen Republic. From December 1994 through September 1996, 20 journal-ists died in Chechnya (three have died in the current war); 9 disappeared without a trace; 36 were wounded; 26 were assaulted; 174 were arrested or detained; and 34 were threatened. In spite of such unprecedented pressure applied by the Russian authorities (over 90 percent of the civil-rights violations against journalists occurred at the hands of Russian military personnel), the reporters were able to function successfully. The military was unable to forgive either Chechens or journalists for its defeat in the first war. As soon as military action began in the northern Caucasus last fall, Putin, in his new capacity as prime minister, signed a directive creating a new government agency, the Russian Information Center, whose purpose was to spoon-feed journalists the official Kremlin point of view of events. Reporters quickly dubbed it the Russian Misinformation Center. Two former KGB men were named as the center's directors: Aleksandr Mikhailov, who was previously a KGB lieutenant general, and Mikhail Margelov, who had taught at the prestigious KGB Academy in Moscow. To put it generously, the Russian Information Center did not help journalists fulfill their professional duties. Rather, its employees did everything possible to keep Western correspondents out of areas of military operations. The information the center disseminated proved unfit for consumption. Russian journalists found themselves in an even worse predicament than their foreign colleagues; they were forbidden, under various pretexts, to travel to Chechnya without permission of Russian military officials. In this way, the Russian public learned only what the generals wanted them to know about the war. On January 14, Putin signed a government decree For the Normalization of the Social and Political Situation on the Territory of the Chechen Republic, creating a commission for that purpose. Among its basic duties, the commission was charged with the "coordination of the informational security of Russian government policy conducted in the Chechen Republic." Named as members of the commission were the first deputy minister of press, television and radio broadcasting and mass media, Dimitri Koryavov, and Margelov of the Russian Information Center. Soon, however, it became clear that the center was not coping with its responsibilities. Foreign reporters were ignoring its directives. And Russian journalists were creating their own set of problems for the center. The Ministry of Mass Media categorically forbade them to publish interviews with the "ringleaders of Chechen terrorists." Several radio and television stations in Moscow had already received official warnings not to broadcast an interview with Chechen president Aslan Maskhadov. So the govern-ment decided to create yet another information source-the Office of the Assistant to the President of the Russian Federation for Informational Coordination and Analysis. On January 20, Sergei Yastrzhembsky was appointed as its head. Yastrzhembsky and his colleagues began their attack on journalists, preparing so-called rules of accreditation for travel to the territory of the Chechen Republic. As stated in a preamble, the purpose of the rules is to ensure "full and objective coverage of counterterrorist operations being conducted by Russian armed forces in the Chechen Republic." These rules contain references to Russian laws and even international agreements. But legal experts have uncovered in them a large number of blatant violations of Russia's own legal code. Most of the problems arise in a section that concerns the rights and obligations of journalists who have already received accreditation. According to the rules, such journalists have the right: to report on military activity in the Chechen Republic under the condition that they work in a group formed by the Office of the Assistant and approved by the leadership of the armed forces of the Russian Federation and the United Military Group of the Northern Caucasus. During the orga-nization of visits by accredited journalists to zones of military operations, their number may be limited according to security and transportation considera-tions . . . [the right] to participate in press conferences, briefings, and other informational events organized by the Office of the Assistant in Moscow as well as the "base" Press Centers in Mozdok and Gudermes; [the right of] access to the base Press Center in Mozdok between the hours of 8 A.M. and 10 P.M. and the temporary Press Centers in Khankala and Gudermes during daylight hours. While working on Chechen territory, accredited journalists are obligated "strictly to observe the rules of internal order of the United Military Group of the Northern Caucasus and obey the instructions of responsible representatives of the Office of the Assistant and the armed forces accompanying them." However, the most repressive paragraphs are those stating that "it is forbidden for journalists either to travel independently around the Chechen Republic or inter-view military personnel without permission of the Press Centers and armed forces of the Russian Federation. In accordance with existing Russian law and international standards, it is forbidden to disseminate information which reveals," as listed by the regulation, Names of troop units and the locations of their permanent bases; Battle formations of units and subunits, or locations of command posts; Personal information about servicemen; Numbers of troops and weaponry; Routes of travel of military units, subunits, and individual personnel. The rules also specify penalties for violating the above strictures. Journalists may be stripped of their accreditation "if found to violate either the laws of the Russian Federation concerning the organs of mass media or the present rules; if a journalist repeatedly loses his accreditation card (more than twice in a six- month period); if fired by the media organization through which he was accredited; if the organization through which the journalist was accredited ceases to operate; or if the journalist is found to violate the provisions of internal order of the United Military Group of the Northern Caucasus." Particularly absurd are the paragraphs listing reasons for prosecuting journalists: for example, the "dissemination of information which discredits the honor and dignity of military personnel, as well as information inconsistent with reality regarding conduct of counterterrorist operations in the Northern Caucasus, if confirmed by a court decision having legal force regarding the matter in question; [or] in the instance of refusal by a journalist or editorial board of the media organization through which he is accredited to issue apologies or retractions for disseminating information inconsistent with reality, if confirmed by a court decision having legal force." According to the Law on the State of Emergency of May 17, 1991, journalists' civil rights can, in excep-tional legal circumstances, be curtailed even when they are practicing their profession. But neither a civil nor military emergency has been declared on Chechen territory. On the contrary, Article 48 of the December 17, 1991, Law on Mass Media-a law that the authors of the rules explicitly mention-states that the system of accreditation should help rather than hinder jour-nalists fulfill their professional duties. The two paragraphs in the rules that are the height of absur-dity- and patently illegal-stipulate penalties "for the dissemination of information discrediting the honor and dignity of military personnel," as mentioned above, as well as a statement effectively giving Sergei Yastrzhembsky personally the right to prosecute jour-nalists for violating the rules. The war in Chechnya has become an index of the rights and freedoms available in Russia today. And, inasmuch as Vladimir Putin is the inspiration and archi-tect of the Chechen military campaign, his views on the role of the media in Russia should arouse grave apprehensions. As in the Babitsky case, Putin has demonstrated firm resolve in punishing journalists for having opinions at odds with the official point of view. Though Babitsky was charged with several crimes simultaneously, he was never presented with an accusa-tion regarding his professionalism; in other words, he was not prosecuted for his reporting. This means that the Russian government under Putin will continue to look for (indeed it has already found) innovative ways of thwarting the activity of independent journalists. The text and provisions of the National Security Concept of the Russian Federation suggest that the actions of the government are logical and consistent, dictated by the spirit of the Kremlin's new ideology. It is an ideology based on the nonobservance of Russia's own laws (as Yastrzhembsky's actions as Chief Censor of the war in Chechnya have demonstrated) and the violation of its basic international obligations, such as the Universal Declaration on Human Rights. If Putin maintains such a relationship with the media, then it is possible that a new era of neototalitarian ideology awaits Russia, an ideology no longer based on commu-nist beliefs, but on nationalist and patriotic principles. In truth, during the past decade, Russia's media have gained no more freedom than was granted them by Mikhail Gorbachev under glasnost. Not the author-ities alone, but the media themselves make their dependency manifest through their increasing attention to a question the government has forced upon them: Should the press defend Russia's national interests, even to the detriment of its own freedom? Yet even as they ponder this question, the media frequently neglect to ask about the need for a press that is truly free. It appears that Vladimir Putin prefers precisely this kind of press- docile or, at least, gazing in the wrong direction.

Oleg Panfilov is the director of the Center for Journalism in Extreme Situations, of the Russian Union of Journalists, Moscow. His most recent publication is Media in the CIS, published by the European Institute for Media (Düsseldorf).

back