We will probably never know the real reason for culture minister Waldemar Dabrowski's recent visit to Jerzy Baczynski, the editor of the weekly Polityka. First the talk around town was electrified by the news that Dabrowski tried to stop the magazine's publication of a story about influential businessman Jan Kulczyk, entitled "Jan is the state." Then came the denial that anything of the sort took place. Finally, we learned that the visit did happen, but that the gentlemen discussed a different topic.
The story, which revealed what went on behind the scenes of the greatest privatization transactions in which Kulczyk's assistance was as indispensable as a midwife's, did finally see the light of day. So is it not futile to investigate what the two gentlemen talked about in the English-style office on the fourth floor of the Polityka building in Warsaw's Ochota district?
I do not think it is, especially now that the Rywingate affair has dispelled some of the clouds that previously covered the dealings of Warsaw's "society," involving people in the highest places in the worlds of politics, business and media. Thanks to this, it is now clear for at least the moment that in a country where the constitution outlaws censorship, the fourth estate not only remains in very good relations with the other primary three, but also frequently surrenders to their pressures.
It is not only pressure from politicians, but from businesspeople as well. This is the same Polityka that dropped a question about the Rywin affair from an interview with the prime minister, though in that case it was a rival newspaper editor who intervened. Another example, cited by Julia Pitera, the head of Transparency International Poland, is that of the daughter of a well-known personage who was accused of a serious criminal offence. Her father did the rounds and visited all the editors of major newspapers with the result that the story was published just once as a tiny note.
The goings-on in the highest places that have recently been revealed much to everyone's surprise are a common occurrence at the lower levels, far from the capital, and they no longer amaze anyone. The realities of the media world, as monitored by the Press Freedom Monitoring Center of the Polish Journalists Association, provide dozens of similar examples. Reporters are officially censored or quietly corrupted by the local authorities. It is mostly those authorities themselves that are publishers of local dailies and weeklies. (Those in power like to see themselves in print.) In such cases it is not even necessary to use pressure tactics: It is enough to have a friendly editor. The country's press law says that it can be anyone, so long as he is an adult and does not have any convictions for breaching the press law. Therefore outsiders are the most desirable.
This is not just going on at the municipal or powiat levels. Last year I had the opportunity to conduct a survey among journalists from more than 10 publications of one of the western European media concerns in the country, which showed a frightening collapse of ethical standards in the face of pressure from politicians and businesspeople. Here are some quotes from journalists with years of experience at respectable publications outside Warsaw: "The awareness of advertisers' pressure is rising;" "I see owners (abusing their) rights to interfere and advertisers calling in order not to be presented negatively; otherwise, the next time they will not come to us;" "The focus is only on economic results, sensationalism and good connections with authorities;" "There is too much pressure from politicians;" "Editors and politicians are too close;" "Top editors are too cozy with local politicians;" "There were cases of editors asking journalists to do certain topics;" and "Gifts for journalists are becoming common."
The straight question "Have you ever been offered a bribe?" brought chilling answers, including: "I was offered to edit a business paper when getting a story about a certain company;" "I was offered a monthly salary for getting to certain individuals at a local company (and asking them) expert questions;" "PR for this person would be achieved this way;" "I was offered money and expenses for a description of a certain entrepreneur's problems, but I refused;" "I was given money for not writing about local people protesting big investments;" and "I was offered a car to test-drive, then keep."
Let us then drop self-delusions: Journalists here are bribed, intimidated and submitted to pressure. To remain an independent reporter or editor is one of the most difficult challenges of our profession. It is enough to look at what was published in the wake of the "Jan is the state" story by Polityka's competition. One well-known weekly published an article that could have been commissioned by Kulczyk, while the most serious daily ran an interview with practically every question framed to give him an opportunity to deny the accusations. Then there is the most potent weapon: the advertising of Kulczyk's companies.
The use of political pressure that is effective but invisible to outsiders has become an art form in the hands of the management of state-owned TVP. The early 1990s, when the head of the news section received phone calls from ministers and deputies with requests (before the news) and complaints (afterwards), have become a pale memory. There is no reason for such calls now, as everyone knows what is expected of them.
Control of what is shown on the evening news is now organized differently. We are back to the times when everything was decided by the personnel department. Its careful selection is not limited to those at the top, but goes much deeper and includes journalists, who will have to be "our boys," and not merely do what is required of them, but know what more to do and how to present it. Occasionally, in a fit of insane protest (insane because there's a child to feed or a mortgage to pay) these journalists will refuse to have their bylines on their stories and to read their texts. They then take some time off and upon returning find that their jobs have been given to someone else, who is even younger and more malleable. "The prime minister no longer enjoys your stories," one of them was told recently. The journalist had done a lot of stories before; nowadays, he does not do the most important ones on Sejm politics.
Big media is big business. The state and the business community should not have too close a relationship with each other, as it leads to interdependence. That is particularly true of the media business. Even if it is known that the situation is far from ideal in established democracies (for example, the case of Silvio Berlusconi, the Italian prime minister, who owns a media empire), this is by no means to say that we should not sound alarm bells when a minister tries to block the publication of an article, and the politicized public TV declares itself better than the BBC. Freedom of the media was not granted to us, and we should not take it for granted. We must fight for it every day with persistence and commitment, as democracy goes awry without it.
Fortunately, most journalists realize this, just as they realize that the nature of their profession lures them into doing what their vocation is: uncovering the truth. That is why I am not losing hope in the face of adversity.