A failure of journalism

Report on the LSE/Polis talk "Media and Identity: Reporting the Rwandan Genocide"

Guest post by Samira Shackle

Rwanda is in the slow process of recovery. The tiny landlocked nation has been in the headlines this week after entering the Commonwealth and resuming diplomatic relations with France. But the scars of the 1994 genocide of up to a million ethnic Tutsis have yet to heal. It is vital that the media learn from their mistakes in the region, which were explored at a Polis talk last night at the London School of Economics.

In discussion with Lindsey Hilsum, who was the only British journalist in Kigali as events unfolded in 1994, were two genocide survivors. Serge Rwigamba gave his story, his measured voice belying the horror he has lived through. He told how his family sheltered in a church, how militiamen attacked the chapel on 21 April 1994, the same day as the UN voted to withdraw its peacekeeping force, and how his father and brother were killed.

Patrick Iregura, another survivor, discussed the role of the international media. His speech resonated with a powerful sense of injustice, his tone one of controlled anger. "I am not an expert," he said. "I do not know how the media make their priorities. It is too much for me to understand why the genocide was treated as a trivial argument. Why ignore one million people being killed?" He discussed the unequal distribution of coverage, recalling how the world's media later descended on refugee camps in Goma, populated largely by Hutus fleeing from the rebel RPF army. The refugees included many perpetrators of genocide.

Hilsum described the "failure of journalism" in Rwanda, a failure in which she includes herself. Genocide, she said, was simply not on the radar of journalists at that time -- it had come up in relation to Cambodia and Bosnia, but war crimes were not in their consciousness. Moreover, the African story dominating the international agenda was the election of Nelson Mandela in South Africa: the end of apartheid and the dawning of democracy. Quite simply, the media were slow to accept that there was another big story coming out of Africa. Picking up Iregura's point about the coverage of Goma, Hilsum emphasised that it was a familiar narrative: journalists could easily comprehend the idea of Africans fleeing, and thus the story was covered as a straight refugee crisis. The failure was in not joining the dots, looking beyond the familiar story to understand the enormity of what was taking place.

The story of Rwanda has since been chronicled, its events recorded in films and books. But it is vitally important that we learn from these: as Iregura argued, events should be reported as they happen. Speaking of the HIV crisis among women raped by members of the militia and the lack of coverage the matter has received, he said: "People will continue to die as a result of genocide, if it is not covered."

The rise of new media has, to an extent, helped reporters evade the logistical problems posed by repressive regimes, as shown by the use of mobile phones and social networking during the protests in Iran this year. But the closest equivalent to the events in Rwanda is the crisis in Darfur: another African massacre that went by, largely unreported. Clearly, lessons remain to be learned.

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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The Brexit Beartraps, #2: Could dropping out of the open skies agreement cancel your holiday?

Flying to Europe is about to get a lot more difficult.

So what is it this time, eh? Brexit is going to wipe out every banana planet on the entire planet? Brexit will get the Last Night of the Proms cancelled? Brexit will bring about World War Three?

To be honest, I think we’re pretty well covered already on that last score, but no, this week it’s nothing so terrifying. It’s just that Brexit might get your holiday cancelled.

What are you blithering about now?

Well, only if you want to holiday in Europe, I suppose. If you’re going to Blackpool you’ll be fine. Or Pakistan, according to some people...

You’re making this up.

I’m honestly not, though we can’t entirely rule out the possibility somebody is. Last month Michael O’Leary, the Ryanair boss who attracts headlines the way certain other things attract flies, warned that, “There is a real prospect... that there are going to be no flights between the UK and Europe for a period of weeks, months beyond March 2019... We will be cancelling people’s holidays for summer of 2019.”

He’s just trying to block Brexit, the bloody saboteur.

Well, yes, he’s been quite explicit about that, and says we should just ignore the referendum result. Honestly, he’s so Remainiac he makes me look like Dan Hannan.

But he’s not wrong that there are issues: please fasten your seatbelt, and brace yourself for some turbulence.

Not so long ago, aviation was a very national sort of a business: many of the big airports were owned by nation states, and the airline industry was dominated by the state-backed national flag carriers (British Airways, Air France and so on). Since governments set airline regulations too, that meant those airlines were given all sorts of competitive advantages in their own country, and pretty much everyone faced barriers to entry in others. 

The EU changed all that. Since 1994, the European Single Aviation Market (ESAM) has allowed free movement of people and cargo; established common rules over safety, security, the environment and so on; and ensured fair competition between European airlines. It also means that an AOC – an Air Operator Certificate, the bit of paper an airline needs to fly – from any European country would be enough to operate in all of them. 

Do we really need all these acronyms?

No, alas, we need more of them. There’s also ECAA, the European Common Aviation Area – that’s the area ESAM covers; basically, ESAM is the aviation bit of the single market, and ECAA the aviation bit of the European Economic Area, or EEA. Then there’s ESAA, the European Aviation Safety Agency, which regulates, well, you can probably guess what it regulates to be honest.

All this may sound a bit dry-

It is.

-it is a bit dry, yes. But it’s also the thing that made it much easier to travel around Europe. It made the European aviation industry much more competitive, which is where the whole cheap flights thing came from.

In a speech last December, Andrew Haines, the boss of Britain’s Civil Aviation Authority said that, since 2000, the number of destinations served from UK airports has doubled; since 1993, fares have dropped by a third. Which is brilliant.

Brexit, though, means we’re probably going to have to pull out of these arrangements.

Stop talking Britain down.

Don’t tell me, tell Brexit secretary David Davis. To monitor and enforce all these international agreements, you need an international court system. That’s the European Court of Justice, which ministers have repeatedly made clear that we’re leaving.

So: last March, when Davis was asked by a select committee whether the open skies system would persist, he replied: “One would presume that would not apply to us” – although he promised he’d fight for a successor, which is very reassuring. 

We can always holiday elsewhere. 

Perhaps you can – O’Leary also claimed (I’m still not making this up) that a senior Brexit minister had told him that lost European airline traffic could be made up for through a bilateral agreement with Pakistan. Which seems a bit optimistic to me, but what do I know.

Intercontinental flights are still likely to be more difficult, though. Since 2007, flights between Europe and the US have operated under a separate open skies agreement, and leaving the EU means we’re we’re about to fall out of that, too.  

Surely we’ll just revert to whatever rules there were before.

Apparently not. Airlines for America – a trade body for... well, you can probably guess that, too – has pointed out that, if we do, there are no historic rules to fall back on: there’s no aviation equivalent of the WTO.

The claim that flights are going to just stop is definitely a worst case scenario: in practice, we can probably negotiate a bunch of new agreements. But we’re already negotiating a lot of other things, and we’re on a deadline, so we’re tight for time.

In fact, we’re really tight for time. Airlines for America has also argued that – because so many tickets are sold a year or more in advance – airlines really need a new deal in place by March 2018, if they’re to have faith they can keep flying. So it’s asking for aviation to be prioritised in negotiations.

The only problem is, we can’t negotiate anything else until the EU decides we’ve made enough progress on the divorce bill and the rights of EU nationals. And the clock’s ticking.

This is just remoaning. Brexit will set us free.

A little bit, maybe. CAA’s Haines has also said he believes “talk of significant retrenchment is very much over-stated, and Brexit offers potential opportunities in other areas”. Falling out of Europe means falling out of European ownership rules, so itcould bring foreign capital into the UK aviation industry (assuming anyone still wants to invest, of course). It would also mean more flexibility on “slot rules”, by which airports have to hand out landing times, and which are I gather a source of some contention at the moment.

But Haines also pointed out that the UK has been one of the most influential contributors to European aviation regulations: leaving the European system will mean we lose that influence. And let’s not forget that it was European law that gave passengers the right to redress when things go wrong: if you’ve ever had a refund after long delays, you’ve got the EU to thank.

So: the planes may not stop flying. But the UK will have less influence over the future of aviation; passengers might have fewer consumer rights; and while it’s not clear that Brexit will mean vastly fewer flights, it’s hard to see how it will mean more, so between that and the slide in sterling, prices are likely to rise, too.

It’s not that Brexit is inevitably going to mean disaster. It’s just that it’ll take a lot of effort for very little obvious reward. Which is becoming something of a theme.

Still, we’ll be free of those bureaucrats at the ECJ, won’t be?

This’ll be a great comfort when we’re all holidaying in Grimsby.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Brexit. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.