Asif Saleh and Mridul Chowdhury

Published in the Seminar-India on 1 Nov 2009.

THE media scene in Bangladesh has undergone a dramatic transformation over the past forty years. What initially started as an outcome of missionary zeal has now grown into a full-fledged industry, employing a significant number of journalists and plays an important role in the shaping of democracy in Bangladesh. With an increase in the number of distribution channels as a result of significant new investment, the media’s role has expanded in both the print and electronic domains.

However, with the rise of media, in particular new media, industry insiders face many questions about their role, practices and business viability. On one hand, the media has been hailed for raising awareness about democratic principles and, on the other, it has been accused of serving as a tool for influence peddling. This short paper attempts to analyze the political impact of the growth of mass media in Bangladesh, focusing particularly on how changes in media ownership and control have altered its role in politics, in particular how media has influenced the citizens’ ‘demand for democracy, accountability and transparency.’

Bangladesh now has more than four hundred registered newspapers. However, of significance are the top seven in Bangla and top three in English. Based on circulation data, the top seven Bangla newspapers together sell about 800,000 copies across the five divisions every day. The weekly newspapers have, however, been declining with very few reaching significant circulation, in part because almost all the leading daily newspapers have free weekend supplements, thus negatively affecting the demand for weeklies.

The electronic media sector is highly competitive, with about twelve independent satellite channels and one government controlled terrestrial channel. The degree of professionalism and public acceptance of the channels vary widely. As in the print sector, most of these channels are not economically viable and survive only due to political patronage.

Private radio channels too have been increasing in recent years. Until very recently, the government controlled Bangladesh Betar was the only radio option available in addition to the BBC Bangla Radio Service broadcast from London. However, within the last five years, several private radio channels have come up. Though mostly focusing on entertainment and targeting the young urban population, they are now showing an increasing maturity in news reporting.

With the rise of internet usage, new media outlets have seen a steady increase in Bangladesh. The premium news outlet among them is bdnews 24.com which, within the last couple of years, has positioned itself as a significant player dominating news coverage among the urban educated populace, sometimes covering politically sensitive news items that mainstream papers would prefer to avoid, such as human rights violations by the military intelligence. Apart from newspapers, major Bangla blogs such as somewhereinblog.com and Sachalayatan.com have also seen a marked rise in readership. More people are now using blogs to look for news with personal viewpoints, express their own opinions and use them as outlets for citizen journalism.

The birth of media in Bangladesh can be traced to the involvement of political parties in the early ’60s during the heady days of the anti-autocratic movement in then East Pakistan. The build-up to the national struggle for independence and the subsequent liberation war in 1971 saw the emergence of a fervent nationalistic media attempting to counter the media propaganda from West Pakistan. The immediate post-liberation era during the regime of the founding father, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, ironically culminated in efforts at a ‘nationalization’ of the print media, thus largely stripping it off its independence. The infamous Printing Press and Publications Ordinance enacted in 1973 was used by successive governments for the next 18 years to keep a tight control over the media.

During the subsequent General Zia ur Rahman regime that assumed power in 1976, although newspapers were once again ‘deregulated’, they continued to be placed under strict censorship by the military, an approach that was largely followed, if not further intensified, by the next military dictator, General Ershad. Public criticism of the government was discouraged, often resulting in years of incarceration.

By the mid-1980s, as unrest against the government began to mount, Bangladesh saw the rise of a new kind of media outlet – 32 page weeklies printed on inexpensive newsprint and carrying extensive political and social commentary. These new brand of weeklies led by Jai Jai Din became instantly popular. Though barely viable commercially, they served as spontaneous outlets of resistance against military rule. Jai Jai Din was banned twice, and its editor was thrown into jail. Other papers such as Bichinta and Kagoj too met a similar fate.

However, as the anti-autocracy political movement gathered strength in the late 1980s, journalists became increasingly bold, eventually resulting in a media non-cooperation movement with the government and a refusal to publish in solidarity with the opposition’s campaign. It is believed that this non-cooperation by the media played an important role in the eventual down-fall of autocracy, thus elevating the status of media and certain editors and journalists in popular perception.

The first caretaker government which assumed power after the fall of the Ershad regime in 1991 annulled the abusive and undemocratic Printing Press and Publications Ordinance, resulting in the reopening of newspapers and renewed press freedom. This was a new dawn in the print media of Bangladesh. In the new era of a relatively free environment, the media thrived. The complete dominance of Ittefaq that lasted through most of the ’70s and ’80s was soon challenged by a new group of journalists and papers. Ajker Kagoj was the first newspaper to be bank-rolled by a businessman and had a more contemporary approach to news. About the same time, The Daily Star was set up, challenging the dominance of Bangladesh Observer. Both its treatment of news and get-up was different, and the paper was printed at a modern computerized press, giving it a more contemporary look.

Slowly, other new entrants joined the market as Bangladesh’s economy grew at a rate of five to six per cent and corporates became more aware of creating brand awareness through advertising. In the Bangla newspaper domain, Banglabajar, Manab Jamin, Jai Jai Din, Bhorer Kagoj, Prothom Alo, Shomokal, Jugantar, Naya Diganta, to mention a few, entered the fray. Incidentally, all of them were financially backed by some of the biggest business houses in Bangladesh.

Private electronic media entered the scene in 1999 with Ekushey TV (ETV), which was the sole player till 2001. ETV effectively changed the media landscape by infusing high levels of professionalism in the field of television journalism. ETV acquired a wide reach because it had a terrestrial license, soon bypassing the popularity of the national TV channel, Bangladesh TV. Within a short time, ETV built a wide following among the public with its newscasters and reporters gaining instant celebrity status. The channel showed what was possible with a good mix of investment and a vision for the industry. However, in 2001, ETV was shut down by the government, ostensibly because of some legal complications. Insiders claim that it was a political decision after the change of government in early 2001.

Within a year of the shutdown of ETV, new private channels started to appear. In less than five years, five new channels started to operate. Unlike in the past, it is worth noting that each of these were fully or partially owned by leaders of the governing political party.

Accompanying the growth and diversification of new distribution channels for information was the growing demand for quality. From 2006 till 2008, Bangladesh went through probably the most turbulent time in its recent political history. As a result, people’s appetite for news and analysis also increased. The year 2006 saw the first political talk show with expert analysts holding differing views coming together to analyze the day’s events. Tritiyo Matra, a pioneer of this trend, saw its popularity rocket in its first year.

A quick glance at the ratings reveals that the financial returns on making a talk show far outweigh costs, since production expenses are minimal. On average, each channel runs two talk shows every day, repeating them at least once the same day. Currently the twelve active channels produce about 18 TV hours of talk shows every day. Typically, the shows are telecast in the evening. Within a 12 hour news cycle, any event of consequence is subjected to detailed scrutiny and analysis. Over the past three years, the shows have technically improved to incorporate call-ins from the audience to ensure greater public participation.

The pioneer of the talk show in Bangladesh was the BBC Sanglap, which started off as an experimental programme of the BBC World Service Trust. The aim of this show, where lawmakers are questioned by the audience, was to demand greater accountability from the government. The programme became extremely popular with Bangladeshi audiences and soon other talk shows began adopting its format.

With the declaration of a state of emergency on 11 January 2007, the country was once again plunged into an era of state suppression as regards press freedom. However, this time press censorship took a different form, enforced more through self-censoring by the editors rather than an outright banning of publications. It was alleged that the military controlled government defined clear boundaries that media outlets should not transgress.

Arguably, some of these pressures culminated in a change of ownership structure fuelled by an anti-corruption drive that put many of the media owners behind bars. During this period, different media outlets took varying editorial positions on the ‘interventionism’ of the military-backed regime – some critical while others broadly supportive of the effort at ‘cleaning up politics’ and the army’s anti-corruption drive. Whether this was a reflection of choice or coercion remains a matter of discussion, but it does appear that the news coverage was slanted to conform to boundaries that were not meant to be crossed.

A majority of the newspapers are affiliated or owe allegiance to some political party or the other, some more explicit than others. The two leading dailies – Prothom Alo and The Daily Star, both unquestioned leaders in Bangla and English daily newspaper segments are, however, exceptions. Nevertheless, these two newspapers have also faced some public criticism for being ‘sympathetic’ to the military-backed caretaker government during 2007-2008.

Most of the private TV channels were founded by political leaders, who continue to maintain significant ownership. However, there are a few notable exceptions such as Channel I, ATN Bangla and ETV, which have been founded by businessmen and media personalities.

Most party-affiliated newspapers reflect clear bias towards their favoured party in terms of news content and editorial position. However, political bias is generally less marked in the electronic media than in print and there is greater even-handedness in the coverage of the two major parties. One possible reason for this is that viewers can easily switch channels and see the other side of a certain news story, something that is not as easy with the print media. Probably, the fear of losing audiences if they appear too biased in their treatment of news, has served to modulate their political inclinations.

There are generally two schools of thought regarding the level of influence that political ownership of the media has on public opinion. While some argue that political ownership of the media significantly influences people towards one party or the other through selective news content, biased treatment of news and even outright propaganda, others disagree, pointing to the relative absence of bias in most of the leading newspapers (indicating people’s general preference for politically unbiased news) and the electronic media.

While assessments of the possible influence of political ownership of media in shaping public opinion may vary, most experts do agree that the media affects the ‘demand for democracy’, even though there are differences of opinion as to the degree. The media’s role as a significant force in augmenting citizens’ ‘demand for democracy’ first became apparent during the campaign against the Ershad regime. Subsequently, in the 1990s, newspapers such as The Daily Star, Prothom Alo, and TV channels such as ETV, created a public appetite for professional and unbiased news, thus strengthening the foundation for democratic behaviour. For the first time, both in print and on TV, people saw a more balanced treatment of the news about and views of both major parties.

During the reign of the military backed caretaker government that lasted for nearly two years, newspapers played an increasingly active role in contributing to and augmenting the efforts of civil society for democratic reforms, particularly in demanding political party reforms and clean and honest candidates, as also a strengthening of independent commissions. The electronic media too played a significant role in ensuring that politicians engage with common people.

During this phase, ‘reformists’ emerged in both major parties demanding better democratic practices and transparency within parties, thus directly challenging the long-held dominance of Khaleda Zia and Sheikh Hasina in their respective parties. The media, for the most part, highlighted the issues raised by the reformists. While some contend that the media coverage was due to directives from military intelligence, whose agenda was to highlight flaws in political parties, it is undeniable that the media played a crucial role in enhancing people’s awareness about non-democratic behaviour and lack of transparency within parties.

Simultaneously, there were several civil society groups such as Shushaner Jonno Nagorik (Shujon), which became extremely active in campaigning for clean and honest candidates and transparency in campaign expenditure. Leading dailies such as Prothom Alo and The Daily Star actively participated in these campaigns, highlighting information about candidates, tracking fulfilment of criteria set for political candidacy and closely monitoring campaign expenditure. The efforts of civil society groups were thus significantly augmented by the active participation of the media.

The media also significantly contributed to the campaign against war criminals by encouraging talk shows and presenting non-stop news about the anti-corruption drive and the crackdown on war criminals. The results of the 2008 election clearly indicate some success on both these counts, although it may be hard to establish any direct causality with the media efforts. Many of the known corrupt people and also the most prominent alleged war criminals failed to win parliamentary seats.

Efforts at strengthening democratic institutions, particularly the independent commissions, were also highlighted by a segment of the media. By facilitating interaction between the Election Commission and the public, the media helped maintain continued public pressure for accountability. Reforms in the Public Service Commission was another focus of the media, leading to significant changes in the administrative structure of the commission. The establishment of the Human Rights Commission too was a result of public pressure, augmented by the media. Again, though it is hard to establish direct causality, there is a pattern that significant coverage led to greater transparency of and proactive action by the government.

However, similar success cannot be claimed in the campaign for accountability of the Anti-Corruption Commission and the functioning of the special anti-corruption courts. Although both the public discourse and media coverage throughout the two years of the caretaker government was largely dominated by charges of corruption in the political sphere, there was much less focus on the working of the Anti-Corruption Commission itself in ensuring due and fair processes while framing charges and jailing people. Here was a chance for the media to create public pressure for more transparency. Instead, it chose to remain on the sidelines, ultimately failing to optimally utilize the power and influence that it had managed to gain over the years. Although the media did turn its attention to this issue during the last half of 2008, there were limits that were never crossed, possibly because of the covert role of military intelligence.

In free societies, the media’s role is often compared to that of the opposition in attempting to make the government accountable. Unfortunately, because of the failure of the opposition parties in Parliament, it has fallen to the media to ensure governmental accountability, so much so that analysts wonder whether the media in Bangladesh actually undermines parliamentary democracy. This role of the media will possibly remain significant so long as the politics of the country does not become sufficiently mature for healthy debate between the governing parties and the opposition inside the Parliament and outside.

However, with power comes responsibility. Bangladeshi media has yet to mature and shoulder responsibility to consistently provide analytical and unbiased views in their news coverage. With an increasing number of entrants in the industry, motivated more by influence peddling than professionalism, the industry as a whole is yet to become mature. Nevertheless, it has come a long way from where it started and has played a pivotal role by demanding more accountability from the state and its actors and in pro-actively engaging citizens in political processes. The media today stands at a critical juncture where it needs to constantly evaluate itself to avoid the threat of once again being placed under a restrictive regulatory frame.

Mashuqur Rahman

Published in the Daily Star on 11 April, 2009.

She holds strongly negative views about Bangladesh, and has published articles maliciously claiming Bangladesh to be anti-American, anti-Western, and anti-Semitic.

SUNITA PAUL” is an “Indian journalist” who has been writing inflammatory articles on Bangladesh in little known foreign online outlets. “Sunita Paul” is also a plagiarist, a cheat.

“Sunita Paul” has caused quite a stir recently because her articles make extraordinary claims, based on anonymous sources and apparent hearsay, about the political situation in Bangladesh. Extraordinary claims without much factual support require a significant leap of faith by the reader. Whether they should be believed completely depend on her credibility.

The very persona of “Sunita Paul” is somewhat of a mystery. “Sunita Paul” is listed as a writer for the Weekly Blitz, the tabloid run by Salah Uddin Shoaib Choudhury. She also rather coincidentally writes in a number of online publications American Chronicle, Global Politician and Asian Tribunethat also publish Mr. Choudhury’s articles. She holds strongly negative views about Bangladesh, and has published articles maliciously claiming Bangladesh to be anti-American, anti-Western, and anti-Semitic.

On March 30, 2008, “Sunita Paul” published an article in the Asian Tribune entitled “They Hate US-West Too.” By “they,” she refers to Bangladesh. In the opening sentence of the article, she makes this extraordinary charge: “Bangladesh, although demanding to be a moderate Muslim nation, is in reality a notorious Jew hater and anti West and anti American nation.”

She goes on to write that “people of Bangladesh in general are West and US haters and the only reason for them for sending their children to these countries are for mere money making.”

Note that she is not pointing towards any particular group or party, she is charging Bangladesh as a country, and all Bangladeshis as “Jew hater and anti West and anti American nation.”

The thrust of that article is to push Bangladesh to change its policy toward Israel. She questions whether the United States should do business at all with Bangladesh. She writes: “Can we raise a plain question as to whether the Jewish business communities and friends of Israel like United States should patronize Dhaka economically to sharpen and strengthen their anti Semitic and anti US sentiments?”

While writing inflammatory articles on Bangladesh, “Sunita Paul” often uses unverifiable sources for her claims, uses unchecked propaganda, and most notoriously, steals from other people’s work and claims them as her own.

When a journalist is engaged in plagiarismthat is when a journalist makes false claims of authorshipthe remainder of that journalist’s work should be viewed with extreme suspicion. Plagiarism is dishonesty. And “Sunita Paul” is a plagiarist. She is a cheat.

On February 6, “Sunita Paul” published an article in the online publication American Chronicle with the breathless headline “Ruling party getting set to try Bangladesh Generals.” Now, if the claim in the article’s headline were true, this would be big news.

However, the article was thin on backing up the main charge in the headline. As one reads further through the long article though, one comes across a number of paragraphs that seemed very familiar to this author. For a very good reason. The paragraphs were originally written by me in two October 2007 articles. [The articles, titled"Banking: Junta Edition" and "In Denial" are available at:http://www.e-bangladesh.org/2007/10/page/4/]

“Sunita Paul” copied, word for word, five paragraphs that I had written in 2007 and passed them off as her own writing in 2009. No citation was given, nor did she put the passages in quotations. In other words, she has stolen someone else’s words and claimed them as her own. Not only did she plagiarise, she also used copyrighted material without the author’s consent.

It is clear that “Sunita Paul” is a “journalist” with an agendaan agenda that wants to portray Bangladesh negatively in the West and in the United States. A “journalist” with such a political agenda is no journalist at all. In addition, she is a cheat. Her journalistic ethics are in serious question.

Yet, a number of prominent people in Bangladesh, including the leader of the opposition in Parliament, have cited the articles of “Sunita Paul” that fuel unsubstantiated conspiracy theories about the recent massacre at Pilkhana. The same person who wrote malicious propaganda against Bangladesh, is now being given credence in spreading unsubstantiated conspiracy theories that will hamper fair, neutral investigation of the BDR massacre. It should however be clear to everyone that this so-called journalist’s agenda is counter to the best interests of the people of Bangladesh.

Given the corrosive agenda of “Sunita Paul” and her proven plagiarism, the reader should question her breathless articles on Bangladesh.

Mridul Chowdhury  

Published in the Forum (August 2007) 

The writer reflects upon what he learned making the film and in attending screenings of it in several cities across the world

One boat, 42 lives; 17 dead, 25 waiting to die — they have been floating on the sea for about 10 days without food or water. One looks at another as potential “food” and wonders which part of a dead-body may be easier to swallow, while another uses his last breath to look for something sharp enough to cut up a dead-body.

This was the experience that a group of young Bangladeshis had to go through as they undertook an illegal journey in early 2005 to reach Spain. They trailed through the Sahara Desert — sometimes by a jeep, sometimes on foot — with hardly enough to eat or drink, and always afraid of being shot at by border patrols. After barely surviving the desert, and spending weeks in jails in horrendous conditions, the group had to take a small rubber boat to cross the mighty Mediterranean Sea. The boat’s engine stopped after a few hours and they were stranded on the boat for about 10 days until the Algerian authorities rescued them. Some survived to tell the heart-wrenching story of the entire journey — the inhuman suffering in having to drink one’s own urine, the pain of watching a brother or a friend slowly starve to death, and the horror of making the cruel choice between death and eating up body parts of a dead friend.

Popular writer Anisul Haque narrated their story in his novel Dusshopner Jatri, which provided the initial inspiration for making a film based on their experience. After pulling together most of my personal savings and receiving generous financial support from friends like Nadia Afrin and Tahmina Khanam, Sujan Mahmud and I embarked on our own journey to make a film that eventually became Deshantori. Little did we know at that point that we were not only going to get into the lives of those who went on that tragic journey, but also into the mind of an entire generation of young Bangladeshis.

The making
It was in March 2006 that we started interviewing the survivors of that harrowing journey. What unfolded was a picture that we did not quite expect — almost none of the 26 people who went on that journey came from families suffering abject poverty. Most had TV in their houses and many had other family members sending money from abroad; two even came from a middle class family with own apartment in the heart of Dhaka. Clearly poverty was not a major factor behind these people taking such life-and-death risks in trying to emigrate to a developed country. But then, what was?

Our quest to find the answer to this is what forms the underlying basis of Deshantori. In the process of making the film, we roamed across the nation interviewing the youth from various walks of life asking their views on Bangladesh’s future, their possible role in it, and their reasons for wanting to migrate so desperately. What we found was a deep-rooted frustration caused by the endemic injustice that in their minds was almost a permanent phenomenon. Widespread corruption, extortion by politicians and their allies, unpunished crimes, armed politics in university campuses — these are only parts of why they felt that they do not see any future in Bangladesh. One interviewee summarised the widespread psyche of many young people in Bangladesh: “With my qualifications, I cannot do anything worthwhile in Bangladesh; if I can go abroad, I know I can.”

Even those who came from relatively well-off families and had the ability to gather some decent amount of money did not seem to have the confidence to use it for any investment in the country. Rabiul, one of the survivors of the journey, had borrowed a substantial sum of money from his relatives. He said during the interview: “If I were to ask my relatives money for starting a business in Bangladesh, none of them would give me money, not even my parents. If I tell them that I will use the money to go abroad, only then will they give me money.” We found that the thought that “Bangladesh is not a country worth living in if there is a way out” is quite deeply embedded in the psyche of much of the young generation.

However, that was not all that we found.
In our quest to probe into the minds of the youth in Bangladesh, we found the other side of the story as well. There are numerous young people who had come back to Bangladesh with a strong sense of optimism after having worked or studied in developed countries; and there were also others who did not want to leave the country for anything other than academic purposes. These people had a faith that things will turn around in Bangladesh and they wanted to participate directly in or lead that process with everything that they have. A young interviewee from a small college in Cox’s Bazar said: “This is my motherland; it has made me who I am today. If I do not give back to my motherland, I think my whole life will become meaningless.”

The final form of Deshantori became more than just a visual reconstruction of the horrific experience of those 26 Bangladeshis — it told the story of the youth of Bangladesh, with all its glory and its sadness, and always with unrestricted openness. While making the film was an eye-opener for me in many respects, yet another kind of experience was waiting for me at the screenings of the film.

The screenings
Deshantori was publicly premiered in Bangladesh at the Liberation War Museum International Film Festival where it won the Audience Award. The young crowd embraced it since it spoke their voice, brought out their internal conflicts, their dilemmas, their frustrations, their joy and their pride. Drishtipat, a global youth activist organisation, organised the first international screening of Deshantori in London in February of 2007. It was shown in front of a full-house audience comprising of mostly young Bangladeshis living in the United Kingdom, many of them second-generation British-Bangladeshis. It clearly struck a chord with the expatriate community — it was a film that rekindled their longing for the country, provoked deep anger towards the corrupt power-brokers that were destroying the nation and also brought to surface a craving to do something to change the way things are.

In the last few months, Deshantori has been screened in a number of cities with high concentration of Bangladeshis in the United States, United Kingdom and Canada. I was lucky to be present at most of these screenings. What was personally most satisfying to me was that at the end of the screenings, the audience would spend much of the time during the Q&A period talking about how they can get involved in trying to contribute positively to the country rather than the negative aspects that drive young people to such desperation. The pain from seeing such a horrific true story brought to life and the frustration that comes from hearing the youth utter words of hopelessness are, in most cases, overshadowed by a resolve to try to change the country for the better.

One viewer wrote the following in the Deshantori blog: “I watched the movie last night. It is 4 o’clock in the morning and I still have not been able to go to sleep. This movie has not only rekindled my love for our Bangladesh, but has also affirmed my plans for doing something constructive for Bangladesh. I am a ‘probashi‘ who has been living in America for the last 16 years but who has Bangladesh in her heart every single day. I urge all the new generation like me to watch this movie and promise ourselves that we have to do something for Bangladesh today. Not in the future — but Today. Our country needs us NOW.”

In the first US-based Bangladeshi film festival held in Dallas in April 2007, Deshantori was selected as the opening film of the festival. After the screening, in the theatre lobby, a young man in his late 20s suddenly burst into tears rather loudly. When I approached him, the only words he could manage to say was: “I haven’t gone back to my country for more than I can remember. I miss Dhaka.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there waiting for him to calm down. When he finally did and regained his composure, he took my hand into his and said: “Bhai, just tell me what I can do for Bangladesh and I will use all my strength to do it.” Then it was my turn to break down into tears. As I embraced him, I knew at that very instance that the tireless hours and sleepless nights of the entire crew and all our hard-earned money that went into making Deshantori had found a meaning.

Deshantori will be screened at various universities and hubs of youth communities in Bangladesh and around the world in the next few months. The post-screening discussion will center around the formation and activities of an emerging global youth-based organisation called Phiriye Ano Bangladesh that is in the process of engaging the youth to realise the dream of creating an prosperous, equitable and democratic Bangladesh.

When making Deshantori, little did we realise that it would one day be used as a tool to rally youth support around the cause of taking Bangladesh to heights it has never reached before. As I write the conclusion, all I can think of is to say to the spirits of all those young people who have suffered painful deaths while trying to escape the injustice of the very country that many of our earlier generation gave blood to create — your untimely deaths will not go in vain. We will create a Bangladesh from where people will never have to flee recklessly out of desperation. Where Deshantori will leave off, Phiriye Ano Bangladesh will begin. Amra Bangladesh phiriye anbo-i.

Mashuqur Rahman and Tazreena Sajjad

Published in New Age (June 2, 2007)

It was recently reported in the Bangladeshi press that a US security delegation that visited Bangladesh in March had asked President George W Bush to give Bangladesh ‘high priority’ as a strategic partner in US foreign and national security policies. Naturally, it raised some alarm bells among the concerned citizens. However, upon further investigations some interesting facts about Weldon and his interests have emerged and questions remain concerning his recent visit.
The US security delegation, it was reported, included ‘US Congressman Curt Weldon’. Weldon, however, is no longer a United States congressman. He was defeated in the November 2006 US congressional elections by the Democratic Party candidate Joe Sestak. According to press reports in the US, Weldon is currently under investigation by the Federal Bureau of Investigation for alleged corruption.
Weldon is currently the chief strategic officer of Defence Solutions Incorporated, a small privately-owned company headquartered in Pennsylvania that does defence-related contracting. Weldon began working for Defence Solutions in February 2007. Other members of the delegation that visited Bangladesh in March 2007 included Timothy Ringgold, chief executive officer of Defence Solutions, and Michael Kearney, a programme manager at Defence Solutions.
Defence Solutions is one of many small businesses that vie for contracts from the US government. Although the company was established in 2001, public federal procurement records show that it started to generate revenue from federal contracts in 2005. In the past two years, Defence Solutions has generated less than $1.9 million from US federal government contracts, mostly from the defence department. Defence Solutions also has offices in Israel and Hungary. According to the company’s website, from its Israeli office, Defence Solutions aims to introduce Israeli technologies and solutions to the US defence market. From its Hungary office, the company supports contracts related to the Iraq War. In 2005 Defence Solutions refurbished and delivered to the Iraqi Army seventy seven Soviet-made T-72 main battle tanks donated by Hungary. The Washington Times newspaper has referred to Defence Solutions as an international arms dealer.
Weldon did not visit Bangladesh as a US government official, but rather as a private citizen apparently lobbying to acquire business for his company. It was also reported in the Bangladeshi press that Weldon and his delegation belonged to the Global Alliance for Homeland Security. Information on GAHS is difficult to come by in the United States. What is known is that GAHS is a private organisation with ties to Bangladesh. While researching Weldon’s visit to Bangladesh, a writer at the American political blog TPMCafe.com located the company registration information for the organisation. It was registered as a non-profit organisation with New York State in late September of 2006.
GAHS gives as its mailing address an apartment in Woodside, Queens, New York. The same apartment is the mailing address for two other non-profit organizations called the American Bangladesh Friendship Society Incorporated and the American Bangladesh Friendship Club Incorporated. This apartment is also the mailing address of the Bangladeshi businessman listed in US government records as the president of the American Bangladesh Friendship Society. This Bangladeshi businessman, using the Woodside apartment as a mailing address, is also listed as the president of an organisation called World Human Rights and Development Incorporated which is registered in New York State. This last organisation, which boasts three members on its website, lists Weldon as a co-chairman.
Weldon is a controversial figure in the US. While he hailed Bangladesh government’s anti-corruption drive at Jatiya Press Club in March, Weldon himself remains under investigation in the US for alleged corruption. In October 2006 the Washington Post reported that a federal grand jury had been impanelled in Washington DC to determine whether Weldon had illegally used his political influence when he was Congressman to win lucrative contracts and favours for his family members. Weldon is under investigation for allegedly steering a lucrative contract from a Serbian businessman to his daughter. The Serbian businessman is barred from visiting or doing business with the United States because of his ties to former Serbian dictator Slobodan Milosevic. Weldon was allegedly trying to get the Serbian businessman off the US blacklist in the same year Weldon’s daughter received the lucrative business from the Serbian businessman’s family. Weldon is also under investigation for a consulting contract his daughter received from a Russian company, Itera, worth $170,000 in start up fee and $300,000 more in monthly retainer fees. Weldon has taken trips paid for by Itera and has advocated for Itera’s interests. As part of the investigation into alleged corruption by Weldon, FBI agents raided the homes of his daughter and one of his closest political supporters.
It is unclear how much influence Weldon still carries in Washington, given the ongoing investigation. He is also barred by ethics rules from directly lobbying the US Congress for one year after leaving office. It is also unclear who Weldon is lobbying for when, in his letter to President Bush, he calls for ‘enhanced military-to-military’ and ‘civilian-to-military’ programmes and visits. In his current capacity as the chief strategic officer of Defence Solutions Incorporated his primary responsibility is to lobby for and acquire business for his company.
Questions remain about the timing of Weldon’s visit, the motives of Defence Solutions and the nature of its relationship with the Global Alliance for Homeland Security. However, it should be clear that the delegation that visited Bangladesh in March did not represent the US government. Rather, it consisted primarily of senior management of the private company called Defence Solutions. The company, it seems, is interested in securing contracts from Bangladesh as well as the US. Defence Solutions does not represent the US government — it is one of thousands of companies that seek to do business with the government. Similarly, Weldon does not represent the US Congress. He is a former congressman who is now a private citizen working for a private company. Any other representation would be a misrepresentation of the facts.

Asif Saleh

 Published in Himal SouthAsian (June 2007)

Bangladeshis have been looking to the press for leadership in a time of military rule, but the journalists have allowed themselves to be bullied by populism and cowed by fear of authority.

On 11 January, Bangladesh’s interim government announced a state of emergency, and a censorship regime was imposed on the country’s media. The following day, the editor of the English-language The Daily Star, Mahfuz Anam, declared: “We believe this move to be against the interest of democracy and of Bangladesh. Just as mistakes after mistakes have brought us to this stage of political crisis, the decision of gagging the press is nothing but a continuation of those mistaken decisions.” A few days later, Anam wrote an angry editorial about receiving a phone call from an unknown caller giving him “press advice”. He promised that his paper would never abdicate its responsibility under such pressure.

Four months later, even after Bangladeshi journalists had been detained by the authorities for their writings, the Daily Star editorial of 8 May was much more conciliatory. On the subject of Chief Adviser Fakhruddin Ahmed, it read:

Actually, there has been no dearth of commitment on his part to press freedom since he took over, but there are certain parts of the government which didn’t seem to act in sync with his ideas. Some organs of the government have proved intrusive, making telephone calls, inviting journalists to talk and giving them advice and directives including issuing media advisory and press notes curbing press freedom.

The contrast in the language used by these two editorials speaks volumes about the Bangladeshi media’s precarious position over the last four months. On the one hand, the papers had to deal with the restrictions imposed upon them; on the other hand, they tried to play an activist role for potential political change. This, coupled with the lack of standards and consistency, as well as owners’ economic interests, has meant that the media’s position has come to be both difficult and confusing. But what has become obvious as the months have passed is an overzealousness to protect and support the current military-backed caretaker government. Given this, Bangladesh’s vanguard Bangla and English-language press has lost its credibility – something that may prove costly in the long term.

To understand the current media situation in Bangladesh, one needs to look back to a bit of its recent history. The national press saw tremendous change during the late 1980s and early 1990s, when a number of new dailies stormed the marketplace, bringing with them a new emphasis on investigative reporting. As the middle class expanded and international 24-hour news channels invaded the country, the taste for ‘quality’ in the news also grew. With Bangla dailies having saturated the market, each of the papers sought to capture specific niches, by developing individualised brands of partisan journalism. While this got dailies such as Janakantha, Inquilab, Ittefaq and Jugantor their huge readerships, they lost influence and the ability to shape public opinion due to their partisan positions.

Meanwhile, Bangladesh’s rich and powerful began to invest heavily in the print media, with an eye towards increasing their influence in business negotiations. There were also a few promoters with larger visions for the industry, such as S M Ali and Mahfuz Anam of the Daily Star, and Naimul Islam Khan and Matiur Rahman of Bhorer Kagoj. Together, these individuals were responsible for the evolution of a ‘modern’ journalism in Bangladesh. Over the years, the Daily Star and Prothom Alo (the latter created when Matiur Rahman broke away from Bhorer Kagoj in 1998) gained stature for objective and non-partisan positioning on issues, and steadily grew to become collectively the highest-circulating papers in the country.

As more young Bangladeshis took up journalism as a profession, the quality of reporting continued to rise. With the demand for personnel in the electronic media, the competition for able journalists became intense. But while the size of the media sector increased exponentially over the past decade, it is safe to say that there was stagnation when it came to improving standards. What did and did not get published increasingly became something of a mystery, and such decisions lacked consistency. The freedom of the media came to be commonly regarded as an indulgence of the powerful, rather than as a right.

Self-censorship
That the Bangladeshi media would not be able to sustain pressure during times of crises was first predicted three years ago by journalist (and Himal Southasian contributing editor) Afsan Chowdhury. In his book Media in Times of Crisis, Chowdhury observed that powerful business houses had captured much of the print-media space, and highlighted the fact that journalism in Bangladesh had been significantly tied in with various other economic and business interests. The growth of the industry seemed not to have been matched by an increase in quality, as was the initial promise. Various systemic problems were not being addressed.

The trend Chowdhury described accelerated over the last three years, with Dhaka awash with black money, thanks to cronies of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) government. Partisan journalism flourished as never before and, reflecting the polarisation in politics, the motivation behind the publishing of any news story was questioned by suspicious observers. One was having to interpret the news based on the identity of the newspaper’s owner. As the interim government’s anti-corruption drive followed the imposition of the state of emergency in January this year, some of its frontline targets were the owners of these media houses. One after another, the owners of Janakantha, Jugantor, Jai Jai Din, Shomokal, Ittefaq and NTV came under the anti-corruption dragnet.

Although editors at these organisations were left largely unharmed, the government’s message had gone out loud and clear. In turn, editors imposed strict self-censorship. As such, there was very little media discussion of the government’s disregard of due process, or its abuse of the judiciary to fit its needs. Instead, sensational headlines, often leaked by the government itself, took centre stage – for instance, stories of outlandish bank accounts belonging to Khaleda Zia and Sheikh Hasina made the rounds, only to disappear after the chief of the National Board of Revenue issued a denial.

The vanguard sister publications Daily Star and Prothom Alo proved a disappointment, perhaps made cautious by their by now considerable financial stakes. As the regime of Khaleda Zia and the Awami League opposition of Sheikh Hasina continued their vainglorious stand off, Prothom Alo decidedly echoed the public sentiment that politics-as-usual had failed, but it went one step further to look towards the cantonments for a solution to the padlocked politics. Prothom Alo’s usually reticent editor Matiur Rahman came live on television to implore the armed services to “save the nation” from chaos and anarchy. When a draconian emergency ordinance was promulgated on 12 January, curbing all fundamental rights, there was little protest from most of the papers. Prothom Alo proclaimed that because the political parties had failed, it was indeed time for the armed forces to play a much greater role.

Questionable inconsistencies
When the lines get blurred between a newspaper’s job of disseminating objective news and its desire to act as a country’s saviour, alternative views fail to make it from the editor’s desk to the public. In the absence of a parliament and in the suspension of fundamental rights, the Bangladeshi media had the responsibility of emerging as the country’s voices of reason and as a counter-balance to the government. Looking back over the past about five months since the take over by the interim government, it is clear that a certain level of consistency was significantly lacking, particularly in demanding due process.

Barring a few exceptions, such as the New Age and the Shomokal, the editorials in most newspapers have generally not dared to cross a certain line when discussing government appointments, key policy decisions, arbitrary rule by ordinance, and the actions of the military.

The media coverage till date has been marked by cheerleading for any step taken by the military-backed caretaker government, without critical analysis. The regime’s botched plan for the undemocratic exile of Begum Zia and Sheikh Hasina was not met by criticism from the media; indeed, the dailies generally cheered the move. When Begum Zia’s son, Arafat Rahman, was taken into detention and released only after his mother reportedly agreed to leave the country, the sheer barbarity of abusing a mother’s anguish for political purpose was not challenged by the leading papers, which greeted the matter with deafening silence.

By the end of February, Dhaka-based journalists began receiving regular phone calls with threatening ‘press advice’ for articles that were even remotely critical of the regime. The situation was far worse outside of Dhaka, where local journalists were being called “for tea” to military precincts. When a correspondent of the Daily Star, E A M Asaduzzaman Tipu, was arrested for offending the district commissioner in Nilphamari, editor Mahfuz Anam reacted with a surprisingly mild editorial. Although the paper deigned to publish strong opinion pieces from time to time, if only to maintain its position as the most high-profile newspaper in the country, it has come under an increasingly critical spotlight, often for news it was not publishing rather than for what it was.

The headlines of Daily Star’s sister paper Prothom Alo have been even more tendentious, often seeming to be specifically timed to help the government’s position. Rather conveniently, when the regime was attempting to exile the two begums, stories of infighting within the two parties, and lower-ranking leaders questioning the BNP and AL leaders, were given wide coverage. Prothom Alo and other newspapers took to publishing news from unnamed sources from inside the government, with no corroboration or follow up. Part of this timidity stemmed from the fact the interim government was enjoying huge popularity among the public, and no editor wanted to be the odd man out.

By responsibly critiquing the authorities, these news organisations would have been able to help the government help the people. While valiant young journalists spoke out against the suppression during an event to mark World Press Freedom Day on 3 May, newspaper coverage was devoted instead to the photo-op event set up by the US ambassador for the occasion. Previous charges of corruption against a sitting election commissioner, retired Brigadier Shakhawat Hossain, were published in only two newspapers. Similarly, news about the alleged torture and murder of indigenous leader Cholesh Richil, at an army camp in mid-March, received hardly any coverage in the national media, barring a few op-ed pieces. When Muhammad Zafar Iqbal, arguably the country’s most popular columnist, wrote about Richil’s demise in Prothom Alo, the column was blocked by his editor for nearly a month.

The citizens’ journal
Ever since the interim government’s popularity started its dive in April, the regime has been becoming increasingly touchy about criticism, and has clamped down harder on dissent. Doing so has been significantly complicated, however, due to relatively widespread urban access to the Internet, which has made available international media sources and, importantly, Bangladeshi websites and blogs. Indeed, the Bangladeshi blog has come of age as a citizens’ journal in the current environment. Even after the censorship of Himal Southasian’s May issue (which was allowed to be distributed only after two Bangladesh-related stories were physically removed from the magazine), the magazine’s website continues to be accessible within Bangladesh. It seems the authorities recognise the power of new media, as Daily Star journalist Tasneem Khalil was dramatically arrested shortly after midnight on 11 May for writings he had posted on his blog.

Khalil, a human-rights consultant and an outspoken critic of military rule, had highlighted the case surrounding Cholesh Richil online; and had also written for the Daily Star’s monthly magazine, Forum, about the link between Khaleda Zia’s elder son, Tareque Rahman, and his appointees at the national intelligence service with militant outfits such as the International Khatme Nabuwat Movement. However, that issue of Forum was pulled off the stands by its editor, and was only reprinted without the article. Following Khalil’s arrest, an appeal from his wife went out to his e-mail contacts, and Bangladeshi bloggers sprang into action – printing the censored article, contacting international human-rights organisations and politicians, and generally spreading the word of the detention. Even after mainstream news websites in Bangladesh had blacked out reports of Khalil’s arrest, his status was constantly updated on his blog. Within 24 hours, a worldwide campaign to free Khalil had sprung into action.

Daily Star editor Mahfuz Anam did subsequently go to the army camp where Khalil was being held, and it is partially due to his influence that Khalil was released after 23 hours. Nonetheless, Anam’s considerable credibility was damaged by the meek press statement that he put out during the episode, in which he noted that he had been informed that Khalil’s arrest had been due not to his work for the Daily Star, but to what he had posted on his website. Anam went on to baldly state that it was “because of the caretaker government’s policy for the freedom of the media” that a release had been agreed upon.

By April, four months after his courageous commentary on press freedoms at the time of the military takeover, Anam seemed to have come full circle with his tepid statement on Khalil’s release. This episode encapsulates the situation of the Bangladeshi media under military rule, in which the partisan press is cowed by strong-arm tactics, while the commercially powerful media seek to deprive the public (the very public that made them powerful) of its right to be informed. This has been coupled with a lack of daring to challenge the populist tide that carried the consuming classes in the initial months of the military regime. It would be prudent for the long-term health of the media, and of Bangladesh itself, if editors were to be steadfastly vocal about their freedom to print and publish as they see fit.