The arrest of Greek investigative journalist Kostas Vaxevanis on 28 October 2012, just days after he published a list of more than 2,000 suspected tax evaders, drew international condemnation.
He was found not guilty of breaking data privacy laws in November 2012, but the Athens public prosecutor subsequently ordered a retrial. If he is sentenced, he faces up to two years’ imprisonment or a fine.
Vaxevanis published the so-called “Lagarde List” of wealthy Greeks with Swiss bank accounts in his weekly magazine Hot Doc in October 2012. The list is named after IMF head Christine Lagarde, who handed it over to her Greek counterpart in 2010 when she was French finance minister.
Successive Greek governments have failed to prosecute a single person on the list or any other high-profile individual for tax evasion. Vaxevanis argues that publication of the list was in the public interest. He told the Guardian: “The country is governed by a poisonous combination of politicians, businessmen and journalists who cover one another’s backs … Had it not been for the foreign media taking such an interest in my own story, it would have been buried.”
Dimitris Trimis, head of the Athens Newspaper Editors Union, told the BBC that the pressure on press freedom in Greece was the most intense of his career. Before Vaxevanis’ arrest two state TV presenters were taken off air after discussing a minister’s response to claims by anti-fascist demonstrators that they had been tortured by the police.
Soon after Vaxevanis’ arrest, journalist Spiros Karatzaferis was detained after announcing he would leak damaging documents about the country’s faltering economy. “The government feels insecure,” Trimis said. The only way it feels it can convince society of its policies is to try to manipulate the media through coercion.
Photo: Demotix / Kostas Pikoulas
Mosireen, Egyptian citizen media collective
Founded in Egypt in early 2011, the Mosireen Collective sought to support and promote the growing wave of citizen journalism that had emerged in the lead-up to the ousting of Hosni Mubarak, when members of the public captured the protests and police brutality on their mobile phones.
Working as facilitators, producers and archivists, Mosireen provide both online and offline space to share this wave of citizen news and people’s perspectives with the wider world.
Whilst none of the Mosireen founders were journalists by profession – they come from a variety of other disciplines, from urban planning to graphic design and mechanics – they recognised the importance of the independent media voices emerging from the revolution.
Mosireen’s media centre in Cairo is a community-supported space, and although professionals also use the centre, the focus is on providing ordinary people with skills, equipment, and know-how. The collective has since trained several hundred people with the output of their work available to download, stream, screen and distribute for free on a non-commercial basis. Footage from the archive is also regularly screened at Tahrir Cinema, a free open-air cinema off Tahrir Square (pictured). It continues to film the on-going discontent to this day.
Mosireen – a play on the Arabic words for “Egypt” and “determined” – also holds regular public events and talks in its workspace in downtown Cairo. The opportunity for the public to get involved in all aspects of production allows for an unprecedented level of interactivity in the creation of Egyptian history. All of which is in line with another of Mosireen’s objectives: to counter the narratives put forward by state-owned media through the presentation of multiple viewpoints.
Ta Phong Tan, imprisoned Vietnamese blogger
Ta Phong Tan is one of three Vietnamese bloggers, collectively calling themselves the ‘Club for Free Journalists’, at the centre of a draconian clampdown by the country’s authorities. Vietnam is one of the world’s most restrictive countries for freedom of speech and the press. Only China, Eritrea and North Korea come lower on RSF’s press-freedom index.
Tan (pictured) and her fellow bloggers were arrested in September 2012 and charged with ‘conducting propaganda against the state’ in articles that allegedly ‘distorted and opposed’ the Vietnamese government.
In fact in over 700 articles on Tan’s blog Cong Ly va Su That (‘Justice and Truth’) she exposed the extent of corruption in the country. She covered a broad range of social issues, including the maltreatment of children, corruption, unfair taxation and illegal land confiscations by local party officials.
Before becoming a journalist, Tan worked as a police woman in Hanoi, giving her an insight into the workings of the system. On 4 October 2012, after a trial lasting just one day, Tan was sentenced to spend the next ten years in jail, with an additional five years of house arrest upon release. She refused to plead guilty.
This month a court in Vinh in Nghe An province, northern Vietnam, sentenced 14 activists, many of them bloggers, to up to 13 years in jail followed by several years of house arrest. The BBC reported that their convictions relied on loosely worded national security laws — in this instance article 79 of the penal code, which vaguely prohibits activities aimed at overthrowing the government. The Committee to Protect Journalists reported that state officials had beaten and stripped online reporter Nguyen Hoang Vi while detained by Ho Chi Minh City police.
“These shocking prison sentences confirm our worst fears — that the Vietnamese authorities have chosen to make an example of these bloggers, in an attempt to silence others,” Rupert Abbott, Amnesty’s researcher on Vietnam, told the New York Times, adding that freedom of expression in the country was “dire and worsening.”
Before the trial began, Tan’s mother killed herself in a self-immolation protest against the treatment of her daughter, and the violence, harassment and threats of deportation levelled against the family.
Sadiye Eser and Turkey’s imprisoned journalists
Sadiye Eser (pictured) who writes for the leftist daily Evrensel (Universal) Newspaper, was arrested on 10 December and is still being held. The most recent reports claimed she is now likely to be being held at Bakirkoy Women’s prison.
Police asked Eser about political rallies she had covered as a journalist, as well as the notes she had kept on them, according to a statement by the Journalists’ Union of Turkey.
Broadly worded anti-terror and penal code statutes allow the authorities to conflate coverage of banned groups and special investigations with outright terrorism or other anti-state activity.
These statutes ” make no distinction between journalists exercising freedom of expression and [individuals] aiding terrorism,” said Mehmet Ali Birand, an editor with the Istanbul-based station, Kanal D, speaking to Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ).
Censorship in Turkey remains endemic. CPJ estimated that Eser’s detention brought to 50 the number of people in jail for journalistic activity in the country. Other organisations suggest the number is even higher. Turkey currently is ahead of even Iran and China in the number of journalists it is known to have in prison.
There is also more widely a chilling atmosphere for free expression and press freedom in Turkey leading to sackings of journalists and self-censorship: as the European Commission said in its 2012 progress report on Turkey: “On a number of occasions journalists have been fired after signing articles openly critical of the government. All of this, combined with a high concentration of the media in industrial conglomerates with interests going far beyond the free circulation of information and ideas, has a chilling effect and limits freedom of expression in practice, while making self-censorship a common phenomenon in the Turkish media.” They also point out that 16641 cases in total were pending against Turkey at the European Court of Human Rights in September 2012. In March 2012, Orhan Pamuk, a Turkish writer and Nobel laureate, was charged and fined for a statement in a Swiss newspaper that “we have killed 30,000 Kurds and one million Armenians.”
Music has always been a medium to stir up controversy — from glass harmonicas being banned briefly in the 18th century for driving people mad, to the censoring of Elvis Presley’s wiggling hips on the US-based Ed Sullivan show in 1957. Censorship in the music industry is no relic of the past. Only this month, Egyptian authorities announced a bar on “romantic music”. Here are our favourite modern examples of banned music:
Taming the rave
Authorities in England and Wales attempted to curb the fun in 1994, introducing the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act. This defined raves as “illegal gatherings,” putting a stop to any electronic music one might to listen to at an outdoor party. The Act defines banned music as including “sounds wholly or predominantly characterised by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats.” 18 years after the act was introduced, the parties still appear in their masses — as do the police. Here’s Norfolk Police bashing away at some rave equipment following an order for destruction by request of the court:
Sensuality censored
In a bid to halt “vulgarity and bad taste”, music lovers in Cuba were hit with a tough sanction in December: a complete ban of the sexually-charged reggaeton music in the media. Other music genres with aggressive or sexually explicit lyrics will also be curbed, preventing the songs from being played on television or radio. Under legislation passed under President Raul Castro, music can be enjoyed privately, but will also be banned in public spaces — anyone discovered to be breaking the law could be subject to severe fines and suspensions. According to Cuban Music Institute boss Orlando Vistel Columbié, the music genre violates the “inherent sensuality” of Cuban women. One of the most well-known reggaeton artists is the Puerto Rican born artist Daddy Yankee. Here’s his 2004 hit, Gasolina, which probably wasn’t an anthem for rising petrol prices:
Singing a song of silence
On 23 October 2012, Islamist militants took control of a country steeped in musical history, imposing a total ban of all genres of music in northern Mali. The rebel group jammed radio airwaves and confiscated mobile phones, replacing ringtones with verses from the Quran. Three Islamist groups linked to al-Qaeda have taken control of the northern Malian cities of Timbuktu, Kidal and Gao, banning everything they deemed to breach the religious law of Islam, Sharia. Dozens of musicians have fled the area, and many have been threatened with violence should they practice music again. Mali is famed for its rich cultural heritage and many residing there consider music akin to material wealth. Musician Khaira Arby has fled south since the crisis. Here she is with her band Sourgou:
Careless whispers from Iranian government
Iran had a pop at western music in 2005, decreeing it illegal, along with other “offensive” music. The Supreme Cultural Revolutionary Council banned the music from state-run radio and TV broadcasts. The sounds of Eric Clapton, The Eagles and George Michael were often used as television background music until the ban was imposed. President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad left no 80s hallmark unscathed — banning western haircuts like the mullet two years later. George Michael’s 1984 single, Careless Whisper, breaks Iranian law with both music and hairstyles:
Romancing the state
On 13 December, Egyptian authorities banned the broadcast of “romantic” music, insisting that only songs enamoured with the state would be permitted for playing on TV stations. Only nationalistic numbers can now be played on the 23 state-owned channels, and songs mocking public figures will be banned to adhere to the “sensitivity” of the political situation in Egypt. President Mohammed Morsi fervently denied that a decree granting him sweeping powers was permanent recently. Complaints have begun to surface surrounding the musical censorship, with some speculating that it was a move to mask the development of the decree. Egyptian megastar Amr Diab’s most well-known hit, Habibi Ya Nour Al Ain (Darling, You Are The Light of My Eyes), is just one of the many tunes that won’t be heard on the country’s airwaves:
Between February 2011 and June 2012, I attended nine surveillance technology trade shows around the world. At these events, vendors, developers and government agencies meet, mingle and do business. They’re usually held at anonymous corporate hotels and are strictly invite-only. Yet the atmosphere is usually one of pervasive paranoia and attendees often conceal their real names and governmental affiliations. The sales representatives, by contrast, can be extremely frank, particularly when discussing the ethical implications of their trade. During one presentation, delegates from a password forensics company projected an image of a metal interrogation chair draped with chains and joked that their equipment could be used in conjunction with ‘other methods’. Another vendor told me that he was sure his company could come to ‘some arrangement’ with a (hypothetical) North Korean customer. Fat profit margins are top of the agenda; ethics and social responsibility rarely even come into it.
Twenty years ago, the value of the global surveillance industry was negligible – today it is estimated to be worth around $3bn. The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 left hundreds of Stasi officers out of a job and the rash of new surveillance companies that sprang up in the early 1990s in Germany suggests that many found lucrative new employment in the private sector. Privacy International published a report in 1995, highlighting this increased flow of surveillance tools from developed countries like the UK, the US, Germany and Israel to repressive regimes in Africa and South Asia, where they were then used as instruments of political control and internal repression. But not a single Western government has felt it necessary to impose export controls on surveillance technologies, and so this unethical trade has therefore continued unimpeded.
After 9/11, governments around the world ramped up their surveillance operations and private companies competed to develop and supply cheaper and more invasive tools. The business of surveillance was no longer the preserve of large military and arms manufacturers like BAE Systems; small technology enterprises and larger Silicon Valley companies quickly flooded the market. Privacy International’s recent research has identified around 250 vendors of surveillance technology based in 33 countries around the world and there are probably dozens more that have managed to remain under the radar. Unfortunately, these new actors seem to conduct themselves with even less integrity than their predecessors – exports to Africa and the Middle East are significant and companies now offer bespoke solutions and training to their clients.
One would think this would make it difficult to plead ignorance when companies get caught doing business with dictatorships and repressive regimes. Yet this is still the most common defence: companies claim that they had no knowledge of the uses to which their products were being put.
They deny complicity in resulting human rights abuses – censorship, torture, extrajudicial detention and executions – because they say that technology is neutral, that it’s not their responsibility to vet their clients, that they can’t control how equipment is used once sold. Let us be clear: in the majority of situations, this is simply not the case. These companies are not staffed by idealistic young software developers creating socially useful tools that their wicked clients are then misusing and perverting. In fact, most of the time they are working with their customers on a close and long-term basis, carefully tailoring surveillance systems to specific needs.
Milan-based Area SpA last year furnished Privacy International with a disturbing example of just how committed to customer service these companies can be. While President Bashar al Assad’s forces were engaged in brutal attempts to crush dissent in Syria, killing and injuring hundreds of unarmed protesters, Area secretly installed a nationwide mass surveillance system. Dozens of the company’s Italian employees were flown out to Syria to install hardware and software that would allow Syrian security agents to follow targets on flat-screen workstations displaying communications and web use in near-real time, alongside graphics that mapped citizens’ networks of electronic contacts. The €13m (US$16.7m) contract also specified that Area employees would supply training to Syrian security agents, teaching them how to monitor vast swathes of the population. Fortunately, after a Bloomberg report exposed the project and protesters gathered outside Area’s offices, the company quietly pulled the plug on the project.
The effect of a surveillance system of this sophistication and magnitude on political dissent, public debate, the rule of law – in fact, on all of the processes fundamental to participatory democracy – is devastating. When people see their friends and colleagues arrested and tortured because of a text message, a Facebook chat or a phone call, they think twice about complaining about government abuses. They may cut off all phone and email contact with those people, afraid that just being part of the wrong networks will bring the secret police to their own doors in the middle of the night. Arranging face-to-face meetings becomes practically difficult, and even speaking in person isn’t secure – governments can target individual mobile phones with malware that allows them to remotely control the device’s microphone and camera and thereby see and hear everything happening around it.
Organising political demonstrations is equally challenging. Blogs containing anti-government sentiments are identified and blocked almost as quickly as they can be written, preventing citizens from expressing their dissatisfactions to a wider audience. Surveillance technology is therefore one of the most powerful weapons in the dictator’s arsenal; it destroys political opposition and subdues populations far more effectively than guns or grenades.
Privacy International doesn’t think it’s right that companies based in Europe and the United States – where governments publicly condemn the kind of human rights abuses described above – should make vast sums of money by facilitating these same abuses. We also believe that this notoriously murky and elusive industry needs to be much more transparent about which products are being sold to which regimes, particularly in Africa and the Middle East. We embarked on the Surveillance Industry Index – a publicly-accessible online catalogue of surveillance companies, products and marketing materials – because we felt that putting the hard facts in the public domain would hopefully stop companies obfuscating their involvement with repressive governments and make them more accountable. We also hoped that it would add to the evidence base for proper export licensing systems in Europe and the US. In particular, the excerpts from the marketing material we’ve presented provide direct insight into the ethical vacuum at the heart of the industry and demonstrate the terrifying scope and power of some of the technologies that are now readily available.
For example, UK-headquartered Gamma Group describes one of their products as permitting ‘black hat hacking [illegal and malicious] tactics to enable intelligence services to gather information from target systems that would be otherwise extremely difficult to obtain legally’. South African VASTech sells a mass surveillance product that can intercept ‘more than 100,000 simultaneous voice channels, allowing it to capture up to one billion intercepts per day and storing in excess of 5,000 Terabytes of information’. Madrid-based Agnitio is even more explicit, stating that their product is ‘designed for mass voice interception and voice mining’. Mass surveillance has been ruled illegal in most democratic countries as, by its very nature, it can never be considered a proportionate or necessary tactic.
Over the past few years, Gamma International’s FinFisher suite, a range of spyware that covertly takes remote control of a computer or mobile device, copying files, intercepting Skype calls and logging every keystroke, has appeared all over the world. Recent reports by computer security company Rapid7 have placed FinFisher command and control servers in Australia, the Czech Republic, Dubai, Ethiopia, Estonia, Indonesia, Latvia, Mongolia, Qatar and the US. A separate investigation in August by CitizenLab, an interdisciplinary project based at the Munk Centre for International Studies at the University of Toronto, identified potential FinFisher command and control servers in Bahrain, Brunei, the Czech Republic, Ethiopia, Indonesia, Mongolia, Singapore, the Netherlands, Turkmenistan and the United Arab Emirates.
Gamma International’s Managing Director, Martin J Muench, has refuted this research – the latest in a long line of denials and excuses from the company. In April 2011, the Guardian reported that two Egyptian human rights activists had found a proposal from Gamma to supply President Mubarak’s regime with FinFisher products inside the ransacked headquarters of the State Security Investigations service. The company said the offer was for a free trial version and that ‘Gamma International UK Limited has not supplied any of its FinFisher suite of products or related training etc to the Egyptian government’. When it was reported that five Bahraini human rights activists had been sent emails containing FinFisher trojans, Gamma suggested that the malware in question was a ‘copy of an old FinSpy demo version’ that ‘may have been stolen’. Muench also tried to point the finger at organisations that had been investigating Gamma’s practices: ‘It’s been suggested that the information was stolen on behalf of a pressure group to disrupt our business but I have no evidence yet to support that claim.’
Yet Muench’s ultimate defence is that Gamma always complies with British, American and German export regulations, recently stating that ‘Export Control Authorities … act as our moral compass’. This would be all well and good – if such export regulations existed anywhere in the world. In fact, exports of surveillance technologies remain almost entirely unlicensed and thus uncontrolled. It should also be noted that, although Gamma has been using the above justification since April 2011, the company only bothered to submit a technical information about FinFisher to the Department for Business Innovation and Skills (BIS) in June 2012. BIS, which is responsible for licensing exports in the UK, has now decided that exports of FinFisher should in fact be licensed, on the basis that the product contains cryptography.
However, the British government has thus far refused to include other surveillance tools in the export-licensing regime, apparently buying into the industry’s claims that these products are all sold for legitimate purposes. Yet BIS controls exports of hundreds of ‘dual-use’ products (products that can be used illegally or dangerously as well as having a legitimate or civilian purpose) and the industry has thus far demonstrated a woeful inability to self-regulate. Unless surveillance exports are effectively controlled by law, the action the UK has taken on Gamma’s FinFisher will be just a sticking plaster on a bullet wound. Though the European Parliament passed a resolution calling for stricter oversight of surveillance technology exports and President Obama announced an executive order to prevent such exports to Syria and Iran, there has not been any clear, decisive action as of yet. And, for dissidents and ordinary citizens alike, the space for speaking out about human rights violations and ensuring this information gets out to the wider world is narrowing all the time.
An Egyptian journalist covering Wednesday’s clashes outside the presidential palace in Heliopolis between Islamist supporters and opponents of President Mohamed Morsi has been declared clinically dead after sustaining gunshot wounds to the head.
33-year-old Al Husseini Abou Deif —who worked for the independent Al Fagr newspaper — is the latest journalist to become a victim of the violence while reporting on the protests in Egypt. Another Egyptian journalist was killed while covering the 18-day mass uprising that toppled former President Hosni Mubarak last year. Several journalists, Egyptian and foreign, have also reported assaults, sexual molestation and intimidation while trying to tell the story of Egypt’s turbulent transition.
An witness who was standing next to Abou Deif when he was gunned down said that the journalist was shot at close range while filming anti-Morsi protesters under attack. He added that Abou Deif had been deliberately targeted and that his camera had been seized. Doctors at al Zahraa Hospital, where Abou Deif lay in a coma fighting for his life, also confirmed that the assailant had been less than two metres away from the journalist.
A member of Egypt’s Journalists’ Syndicate, Abou Deif was an outspoken critic of the government and had often participated in rallies protesting media censorship and demanding greater press freedom. He was also an opposition activist and member of the Kefaya movement that opposed the succession of Mubarak’s son Gamal and protested political corruption and stagnation.
The violent clashes outside the Al Ittihadeya Palace erupted on Wednesday afternoon when thousands of Islamist supporters marched to the Palace to express solidarity with President Morsi, under attack since issuing a constitutional declaration two weeks ago which gave him absolute powers. The Islamists have attacked scores of opposition activists camped in tents outside the palace since Tuesday night. Morsi’s opponents had staged their own million-people rally on Tuesday afternoon, protesting the Presidential edict and a draft charter they say will stifle civil liberties and religious freedom. President Morsi had earlier announced that the draft would be put to a popular referendum on 15 December.
Protest outside Presidential Palace in Cairo, 4 December 2012. Mohamed El Dahshan | Demotix
At least six people were killed and 700 were injured in Wednesday’s clashes. Most of the dead were Islamist supporters who succumbed to their wounds after being shot or attacked with knives, a statement by the Interior Ministry said. Two of them were members of the Muslim Brotherhood, from which the president hails. Most of the injuries resulted from Molotov cocktails and fireworks being hurled from both sides. Anti-Islamists accused “Muslim Brotherhood militia” of firing birdshots and using swords to attack them. Denying the accusations, the Islamists insisted they themselves were the victims of such attacks. Riot police that had been absent from the scene at the start of the clashes were deployed hours later and attempted to create a buffer between the two camps.
The attack on Abu Deif followed attacks by security forces on at least two journalists covering last week’s protests demanding President Morsi retract his constitutional declaration. The increased violence against journalists has prompted the Journalists’ Syndicate to issue a statement demanding that police do more to protect reporters covering the civil unrest. In the meantime, Syndicate members are organising a rally on Friday afternoon to denounce state attacks on journalists.
This week, several journalists and talk show hosts took a firm stand against censorship. The strongest statement came from talk show host Hala Fahmy who appeared on her show on Egyptian State Television carrying a white shroud intended to symbolise “the demise of free expression.” The show was immediately taken off the air. Meanwhile, State TV presenter and former presidential candidate Bothaina Kamel is being investigated for going off-script. She told viewers to stay tuned for the “Ikhwani” or “Brotherhood news bulletin” — a jab intended to signal interference by the newly-appointed Islamist Minister of Information in the news editorial content. Khairy Ramadan, a TV talk show who worked for the independent Channel CBC resigned on-air after the station’s managers cancelled a show in which he was to have hosted former presidential candidate Hamdeen Sabbahi.
The impromptu cancellation of the show followed a televised speech minutes earlier by President Morsi, who said that investigations into Wednesday’s clashes had revealed that “thugs” hired by opposition political forces and former regime remnants were responsible for attacks on protesters. He vowed that perpetrators attempting to wreak havoc would be brought to justice. While standing his ground on his controversial edict, which he said was meant to propel Egypt forward, Morsi assured Egyptians it would not shield his decisions from judicial review, nor prevent citizens from holding him to account.
The protesters’ chants of “the people want the downfall of the regime” that filled Tahrir Square immediately after the speech do not auger well for a near-end to the political turmoil. And for journalists covering the unrest,there are as yet no guarantees of their safety.
Journalist Shahira Amin resigned from her post as deputy head of state-run Nile TV in February 2011. Read why she resigned from the “propaganda machine” here.
The arrest of Greek investigative journalist Kostas Vaxevanis on 28 October 2012, just days after he published a list of more than 2,000 suspected tax evaders, drew international condemnation.
Founded in Egypt in early 2011, the Mosireen Collective sought to support and promote the growing wave of citizen journalism that had emerged in the lead-up to the ousting of Hosni Mubarak, when members of the public captured the protests and police brutality on their mobile phones.
Ta Phong Tan is one of three Vietnamese bloggers, collectively calling themselves the ‘Club for Free Journalists’, at the centre of a draconian clampdown by the country’s authorities. Vietnam is one of the world’s most restrictive countries for freedom of speech and the press. Only China, Eritrea and North Korea come lower on RSF’s press-freedom index.
Sadiye Eser (pictured) who writes for the leftist daily Evrensel (Universal) Newspaper, was arrested on 10 December and is still being held. The most recent reports claimed she is now likely to be being held at Bakirkoy Women’s prison.