Friends of mine and I have been debating for some time the media's coverage of the Kargil crisis. Being journos all of us, there are strong opinions backed by stronger individuals establishing them. Obviously there are two sides, and the shadow falls across what we think is the coverage of what our soldiers have been doing there in the freezing heights. The agencies' reportage, goes the argument, is partisan, in favour of India, which is not the way journalism is supposed to be. Objectivity, fairness, and all the high-falutin' values that we journos are supposed to defend with our lives, are being given the go-by in the coverage, say my friends. This is not a contention that I agree with entirely. And there are two reasons why I disagree. One, at times of war -- which is what this is, despite the prime minister's qualification of the current crisis as "war-like" -- I believe there is a higher calling on journalists than mirroring the truth, and that is national interest. National interest, not represented by our measly set of politicians who would run a mile before facing a bullet, but the interests represented by the men in khaki who have volunteered to go the frontline, despite lack of equipment, money, facilities, and will probably get killed there, for which their families will maybe get Rs 200,000 or some such pittance as compensation... This is not something I will do if it was the last thing on earth, nor will my confreres. So I think the least we in the media can do is cover these souls in glory, even if we sometimes realise that it was foolhardiness that has driven them, not always bravery. By making the supreme sacrifice, by being willing to make that sacrifice, they have transcended the lowly world occupied by us scribes and mortals. But the argument, as all arguments involving journalists, continues... It is not as if the media is hallowed, that it does not stoop. In fact, column inch by column inch, the media expends more newsprint on trivia, on puff masquerading as news. Parmeshwar Godrej's neckline and hemline get more space than, say, Major Saravanan's family that is still awaiting his body, Channel [V] honcho Jules Fuller's libido is the subject of mucho deliberation than the dwindling spares for the Bofors gun. Where is the objectivity here, I fail to see. The mistake journalists make, I think, is that they try and second-guess the reader, without having any interaction with them. To most labouring in newsrooms, even their own neighbours at home -- who may be avid readers of their publication -- remain strangers. Without having a clue as to the reader's mental and other make-up, they lay claim to their preferences, which is why often publications fail in their mission. They try to give the reader what journalists think he needs, not what the reader actually wants... Luckily, the Net as a medium has changed these parameters. Interaction with the reader is constant, just a mouse-click away. Brickbats and bouquets are round the clock, as is reader interface through chatrooms and email. This may not map the reader's mind for us, but it surely takes us that much closer to those for whose sake we slog. The first thing a journo loses on entering the profession is his sense of idealism. Months into the job, he realises that truth does not mean the absolute truth, and that it is always coloured by the reporter's/editor's perspective. Most owners have their list of do's and don'ts, which are handed down as diktats. I know of incidents where reports have been spiked in publications that pride themselves on their campaigning zeal, only because they concerned a hospital, a business house or politician, which or who was close to the owner. But what brings out the 'best' in journalists is during strikes, which luckily has not happened for near-on 10 years now in Bombay. And, as someone unfortunate enough to be part of the last one in the city, I had a ringside view of the goings-on, and I can say there was no truth or idealism anywhere in sight. One particular incident, a direct action staged by us, resulted in a police lathicharge. When I recovered from it I was on a hospital bed. To my left was the most vocal member of the journalists' union, who got off with a simple graze in the head while I was laid low. Naturally, I was the cynosure of other papers' focus, which left my Marxist comrade fuming. He stalked off to the nurse on duty, and demanded a bandage all round his head, which met with, what else, a refusal. Unfazed, he went off to the doctor, and threatened to 'expose' him in the media, and started chanting 'Halla Bol! The poor doctor called the nurse aside, and told her to wrap his temple in bandage, 'or else these paagal journos will do anything'... Naturally, this colleague was the star of that afternoon's morcha to the police commissioner, shouting slogans, all the while pointing to his head. Months later, the same fellow came to see me, to say he was off to Japan, where his family was well-settled. Since many who took part in that strike were still unemployed, and since this fellow was among those who urged the strike on us, I asked him what the hell he had been doing, what about the poor fellows who will never find a job, guys like peons, compositors, the lift man..? His reaction was a shrug, which was more truthful a gesture than all his words till then, oral or written. Kannamma is a journalist, yes
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