ARMENIA: CLIMATE OF SELF-CENSORSHIP
By Gegham Vardanian in Yerevan
Institute for War and Peace Reporting, UK
Dec 8 2006
Armenian television channels play to the tune of government and
big business.
In Armenian television today, the rules of news journalism are known
to everybody. Journalists say it is a climate not of direct official
control, but of pervasive self-censorship.
"Now everyone knows exactly what to do," said journalist Tigran
Paskevichyan. "There are entertainment programmes, music, films and
so on, but no one thinks about public and political debate."
If in Azerbaijan and Georgia the battle is happening now, in Armenia
the crunch moment occurred four years ago when the politically
independent A1 + television channel was taken off the air. Other
stations took this as a signal to resign themselves to official
control and exercise political caution.
A1 + was stripped of its broadcasting license on April 2, 2002. A week
later, as human rights activists and journalists were rallying to the
support of the station, 17 media outlets released a statement, in which
they insisted that freedom of speech was not in any danger in Armenia.
"This statement was a public declaration of submission, in which the
media said it was better to obey rather than find themselves in the
position of А1+," said Mesrop Movsesian, chairman of the company.
"After 2002, all the TV companies began to be afraid and everybody
understood that there was a certain line along which they had
to walk, and any step to the right or to the left would not be
tolerated. Speaking figuratively, they could be shot without warning,"
said Mesrop Harutyunian, a media expert with the Yerevan Press Club.
Most television channels are now extremely selective in their news
coverage, ignoring opposition figures such as former parliamentary
speaker Artur Baghdasarian.
"For example, when visiting the French University, the foreign minister
of France was accompanied by Arthur Baghdasarian, chairman of the
university's board of trustees," said Harutyunian. "However, most TV
reports were edited so as to avoid showing Artur Baghdasarian. This
is straightforward censorship."
A recent US State Department report summed this up, "The authorities
continu[e] to maintain tight control over the state-owned Armenian
Public Television and virtually all private channels, which are owned
by businesspeople loyal to [Armenian president Robert] Kocharian and
rarely air reports critical of his administration. Their reporters
are believed to operate under editorial censorship."
Television professionals say much of the pressure on them is
informal and comes either directly from politicians or via the
presidentially-appointed national television and radio commission.
Gegham Manukian, a member of parliament and consultant with
Yerkir-Media television, said broadcasting bosses are invited now and
then for informal meetings or dinners in the presidential residence.
"These are not meetings in the strict sense of the word, no
instructions are given," he said. "Actually, it is up to the leader
himself to decide whether he will do this or that. Naturally, this
will have an effect. But sometimes useful and important issues are
also discussed there."
Armenia has 61 television stations, of which 17 are in Yerevan. Many
of them focus on children's programming, culture or music. Several,
such as ALM or Kentron TV, which now occupies the frequency once held
by A1 +, are owned by wealthy businessmen.
Shamiram Aghabekian, deputy chairman of Armenia's national television
and radio commission, agreed to be interviewed by IWPR only on the
condition that what she said was understood as her personal opinion.
She conceded that television exercised self-censorship, but said this
was normal.
"The owners of our TV companies are mostly very rich people -
oligarchs," she said. "They see that the authorities have created
favourable conditions for them to do business, and, naturally, they
don't want a change of government. The current government suits the
owners of television stations perfectly."
Regional television channels are more vulnerable targets for the
authorities because of their poor finances.
"We receive threats very frequently," said the head of one regional
station, who asked to be identified by the changed name, Baghdasar.
Regional television bosses say that Grigor Amalian, the chairman of
the national television and radio commission, told them recently that
they should rebroadcast the programmes of Kentron TV, which is owned
by people associated with Armenia's leading oligarch Gagik Tsarukian.
"Amalian said that he would not object to seeing Kentron TV broadcast
in the regions and that they were ready to pay for this," said
Bagdasar. "We thought about it and asked for a very big price. They
haven't yet got back to us."
Manukian said that money is a crucial part of the picture, as rich
Armenians are able to buy up favourable airtime.
For example, in the last two months, most Armenian television
channels broadcast a series of reports about a businessmen involved
in politics, who was distributing seed potatoes and organising free
medical consultation services in villages. The reports had the look
of being paid advertising.
Journalist Tigran Paskevichyan said the convergence of commercial
and political interests on Armenian television was having a corrosive
effect.
"Who would pay money [to a television channel] and say, 'Say what you
want about poverty and the catastrophic situation in the regions of
Armenia'? No one of course," he said.
Gegham Vardanian is a reporter for Internews in Yerevan.
By Gegham Vardanian in Yerevan
Institute for War and Peace Reporting, UK
Dec 8 2006
Armenian television channels play to the tune of government and
big business.
In Armenian television today, the rules of news journalism are known
to everybody. Journalists say it is a climate not of direct official
control, but of pervasive self-censorship.
"Now everyone knows exactly what to do," said journalist Tigran
Paskevichyan. "There are entertainment programmes, music, films and
so on, but no one thinks about public and political debate."
If in Azerbaijan and Georgia the battle is happening now, in Armenia
the crunch moment occurred four years ago when the politically
independent A1 + television channel was taken off the air. Other
stations took this as a signal to resign themselves to official
control and exercise political caution.
A1 + was stripped of its broadcasting license on April 2, 2002. A week
later, as human rights activists and journalists were rallying to the
support of the station, 17 media outlets released a statement, in which
they insisted that freedom of speech was not in any danger in Armenia.
"This statement was a public declaration of submission, in which the
media said it was better to obey rather than find themselves in the
position of А1+," said Mesrop Movsesian, chairman of the company.
"After 2002, all the TV companies began to be afraid and everybody
understood that there was a certain line along which they had
to walk, and any step to the right or to the left would not be
tolerated. Speaking figuratively, they could be shot without warning,"
said Mesrop Harutyunian, a media expert with the Yerevan Press Club.
Most television channels are now extremely selective in their news
coverage, ignoring opposition figures such as former parliamentary
speaker Artur Baghdasarian.
"For example, when visiting the French University, the foreign minister
of France was accompanied by Arthur Baghdasarian, chairman of the
university's board of trustees," said Harutyunian. "However, most TV
reports were edited so as to avoid showing Artur Baghdasarian. This
is straightforward censorship."
A recent US State Department report summed this up, "The authorities
continu[e] to maintain tight control over the state-owned Armenian
Public Television and virtually all private channels, which are owned
by businesspeople loyal to [Armenian president Robert] Kocharian and
rarely air reports critical of his administration. Their reporters
are believed to operate under editorial censorship."
Television professionals say much of the pressure on them is
informal and comes either directly from politicians or via the
presidentially-appointed national television and radio commission.
Gegham Manukian, a member of parliament and consultant with
Yerkir-Media television, said broadcasting bosses are invited now and
then for informal meetings or dinners in the presidential residence.
"These are not meetings in the strict sense of the word, no
instructions are given," he said. "Actually, it is up to the leader
himself to decide whether he will do this or that. Naturally, this
will have an effect. But sometimes useful and important issues are
also discussed there."
Armenia has 61 television stations, of which 17 are in Yerevan. Many
of them focus on children's programming, culture or music. Several,
such as ALM or Kentron TV, which now occupies the frequency once held
by A1 +, are owned by wealthy businessmen.
Shamiram Aghabekian, deputy chairman of Armenia's national television
and radio commission, agreed to be interviewed by IWPR only on the
condition that what she said was understood as her personal opinion.
She conceded that television exercised self-censorship, but said this
was normal.
"The owners of our TV companies are mostly very rich people -
oligarchs," she said. "They see that the authorities have created
favourable conditions for them to do business, and, naturally, they
don't want a change of government. The current government suits the
owners of television stations perfectly."
Regional television channels are more vulnerable targets for the
authorities because of their poor finances.
"We receive threats very frequently," said the head of one regional
station, who asked to be identified by the changed name, Baghdasar.
Regional television bosses say that Grigor Amalian, the chairman of
the national television and radio commission, told them recently that
they should rebroadcast the programmes of Kentron TV, which is owned
by people associated with Armenia's leading oligarch Gagik Tsarukian.
"Amalian said that he would not object to seeing Kentron TV broadcast
in the regions and that they were ready to pay for this," said
Bagdasar. "We thought about it and asked for a very big price. They
haven't yet got back to us."
Manukian said that money is a crucial part of the picture, as rich
Armenians are able to buy up favourable airtime.
For example, in the last two months, most Armenian television
channels broadcast a series of reports about a businessmen involved
in politics, who was distributing seed potatoes and organising free
medical consultation services in villages. The reports had the look
of being paid advertising.
Journalist Tigran Paskevichyan said the convergence of commercial
and political interests on Armenian television was having a corrosive
effect.
"Who would pay money [to a television channel] and say, 'Say what you
want about poverty and the catastrophic situation in the regions of
Armenia'? No one of course," he said.
Gegham Vardanian is a reporter for Internews in Yerevan.