From Russia, with love for freedom
By Genrikh Borovik Posted Fri, Sep 1 2000
Russia’s public. So far, Artyom’s colleagues, my wife, and I have received more than a thousand letters and telegrams of condolence. Many authors call for an independent investigation. They believe the crash was premeditated murder.
I write this not because I fully believe in such supposition.
I want to say this: The Russian authority has so seriously discredited itself that a great number of Russians react to the tragic death of an independent journalist by immediately thinking that, again, it could not happen without involvement of those who were the objects of criticism.
Artyom was well-known and respected. He was the first to report the truth about the war in Afghanistan. His book “The Hidden War” (1989) brought him popularity in Russia and around the world. The book was serialized in some of the world’s most important magazines and it was published in book form in several countries.
In the early 1990s Artyom established the media company Top Secret, which publishes a 2-million-circulation newspaper of the same title, and produces a weekly television program and a weekly magazine. All of them specialized in investigative reporting. All of them most often focused on exposing corruption in the top echelons of government and its with the leading oligarchs. Such reporting led to conflict with the authorities.
In 1999 the state-owned RTR TV channel, which for a several years aired “Top Secret,” canceled the program at a financial loss despite its broad popularity. At that point Vladimir Gusinsky offered Artyom his help. The program was relaunched on Media-Most’s NTV and maintained the same popularity among the viewers though the NTV audience is much smaller than that of the RTR.
Shortly after the cancellation by RTR, Mikhail Lesin, Russia’s Minister for Press and Information took a trip to New York to meet with Artyom’s American partners. At lunch he said that authorities would probably take “necessary measures” against Top Secret in the near future. He warned them to withdraw their financial support before it was too late.
Artyom’s partners proved to be decent people. They said that in their opinion Artyom was an excellent publisher and manager, who knew how to run his business. They had no intention to betray him and advised the minister to stop blackmailing them.
Three months later, in March 2000, Artyom took part in a popular talk-show on Gusinsky’s NTV channel, where he talked about attempts to strangle independent media. He mentioned unlawful economic pressure and continual threats. He spoke about authorities’ ambivalence toward material that vividly exposed cases of corruption in top echelons of power.
Artyom’s interview aroused great interest among the viewers, some of whom called the studio.
The last phone call was chilling. Male voice: “If you are so honest, why are you still alive?”
Artyom crossed himself and said with a grin, “Looks like it’s in God’s hands.” Then in a serious tone he mentioned that substantial funds have to be spent for protection of his office and himself personally.
That question hit like a thunderbolt. Many of us took it as another open warning. Three days later Artyom died in the crash at Sheremetyevo.
I am speaking in such a detail about the tragedy of my family not only because it weighs upon our hearts like a bleeding stone, but also because it partially answers the question about freedom of speech in Russia these days.
Squeezing a popular television program off the screen, economic strangulation, the tapping of telephone conversations and many more examples from Artyom’s experience are worrisome symptoms that there is a series of measures being used to “straighten out” the Russian media.
Gusinsky himself was arrested in June on an accusation of misappropriating $150 million in state property and also for illegally gathering information.
Journalists and politicians not only in Russia but also throughout the world raised their voices in defense of Gusinsky. They say the oligarch was persecuted not for criminal activities but for Media-Most’s critical positions of the Kremlin, and particularly methods used in the war in Chechnya.
Along with NTV, Media-Most includes the newspaper Segodnya (Today), Itogi, a newsmagazine that is a joint venture with Newsweek and other publications. They are highly professional and objective in reporting on Russia’s domestic events.
The arrest by the “independent” General Prosecution office is seen as an attempt to intimidate all of Russia’s independent media. Although President Vladimir Putin has claimed he has neither the lawful right nor the desire to direct the prosecutor’s activities, he has also referred to media that take “anti-state” positions. Nobody doubted that these words referred directly to Media-Most. It also left no doubt that the president sees the criticism of him and his officers as “anti-state.”
Gusinsky was released from jail after three days, but the searches of his companies offices and printing plants by black-masked squads continued.
All of Gusinsky’s property was impounded. The prosecutor’s spokesmen told journalists the office was acting “in strict accordance to the law.”
Many of in Russia, including some prominent journalists and politicians, felt that the General Prosecutor’s office probably found some wrongdoing in Gusinsky’s operations and decided to apply the letter of the law against him. Such a decision against a corrupt oligarch could only be greeted with approval.
These people thought the protests over the pressure on the independent media were just a maneuver by Gusinsky’s allies to pull away the sword of justice.
Many expected a final arrest of the media mogul. Some with discontent, others with indignation, others with malicious joy; some with curiosity, others with indifference.
And suddenly, on July 27, Media-Most announced that the General Prosecutor’s office had sent notice that criminal charges against Gusinsky were dismissed due to the lack of evidence.
Journalists rushed to Media-Most for reaction. All they got was an expression of satisfaction over the lawful resolution of the conflict. There were no explanations, no more comment.
One could only be glad for such an outcome: Public opinion, which mostly sided with Gusinsky, has won. But in Moscow rumors spread that the criminal charges against Gusinsky were dropped in exchange for his promise to substantially restrain criticism of top authorities in his news operations.
If so, it means the authorities had fulfilled their task completely. More importantly, the authorities gave all other media an impressive lesson: If they could tame such giant as Gusinsky, what could be said about half-giants. Or midgets.
The plan to put the press in order is working. The proof of that comes almost every other hour. In Moscow, in early August the government indicated that it and Gazprom, the government-controlled natural gas monopoly, were in negotiation respectively with the Boris Berezovsky, the oligarch who controls Russian Public Television, and Gusinsky to take control of both organizations.
In the provinces, the status might be even worse. The same day charges against Gusinsky were dropped, the governor of Kaliningrad Oblast on the Baltic Sea set up a new deputy of “information security.” The government will probably soon impose these deputies all around the country.
Also in late July, the owner of Vesna, the only independent radio station in Smolensk, was killed at the door of his home. He was the only radio man in the city who dared to criticize authority.
That, dear IPI Global Journalist readers, is what seems to be the situation around “freedom” of press in today’s Russia.