I cannot sit and wait for the knock at the door. I must go to confront my accusers
08/24/2001 | independent
I cannot sit and wait for the knock at the door. I must go to confront my accusers
By Basildon Peta
23 August 2001
In Harare
AT 10.15am today I will put on my best suit and tie, get into my Mazda, drive the 10 miles to Harare's notorious central police station and turn myself in. I have been avoiding the police since finding out that I am top of a government hit list to be "murdered or harmed" before the presidential elections next year.
For two days the police have been looking for me.
On Tuesday a group of detectives showed up at my office while I was out. I know that for as long as I remain in this country, they can track me down. So there is no point hiding any longer. I have no option but to confront my accusers, those people who have called me a "British spy", an enemy of the state.
So this morning I will walk in to the police station, accompanied by my lawyer, Linda Cook, hoping for the best.
I know I have done nothing wrong; I have not transgressed the law in any way. I have spent much of the past 48 hours mentally scrolling through every incident that might have inadvertently brought me into trouble with the police. Nothing so much as a traffic ticket. And even if I had been caught speeding, detectives working under the auspices of Zimbabwe's notorious Law and Order Department would hardly be tracking my movements and seeking to question me.
All day yesterday my phone rang, with calls of support. While those calls flooded in from Britain, the US, Ireland and South Africa, the Harare Law and Order police were also on the phone, to my lawyer, playing a game of good cop, nasty cop. While one of the detectives said they wanted to know more about threats that had been made against me with a view to offering protection, another said I could expect to have charges pressed against me.
I can live with being charged if I am then freed to challenge those charges with a legal defence. What worries me is the prospect that they will chase away the lawyer and hand me over to somebody else, with a more sinister purpose. Two of my journalist friends, Mark Chavunduka and Ray Choto, were called in to the same police station recently, only to be blindfolded, and handed over to the army for torture. They went to London for treatment from the Medical Foundation for the Care of Victims of Torture.
The two different versions offered by detectives working in the same department for why they want to see me are not reassuring. My lawyer suspects that the detective who spoke of wanting to guarantee my safety wanted an easy way of getting me to the police station.
Ironically, Mark Chavunduka, who edits the Standard newspaper, was yesterday back in the same police station. He phoned me from the station to tell me he has been charged with criminally defaming President Robert Mugabe over a story published by the Sunday Times in London, alleging Mr Mugabe fears he is being haunted by a ghost.
Could I have defamed anyone? I am certain I have not.
For now, I cannot concentrate on my job as an investigative journalist highlighting the gross injustices perpetrated against the people of Zimbabwe. Anyway, the police seem less interested in bringing to justice those who have been allowed to get away, literally, with murder than pursuing journalists.
As I prepare to hand myself over to the mercy of President Mugabe's law officers, I know that at least the eyes of the world have been drawn to my plight and that of other Zimbabwean journalists.
Who knows what awaits me in the darkened rooms of the police station? Who knows where this traumatic and violent episode will leave my country? But at least as long as I and my fellow journalists continue to tell the truth, the world cannot ignore us.
How Mugabe has fought to gag free speech
By Basildon Peta
23 August 2001
* 20 August 2001 The Standard reveals the existence of a security services hit list of journalists "to be harmed or killed".
* 13 August 2001 Geoff Nyarota (above), editor in chief of the Daily News, is arrested with three reporters after he ran a story alleging that police vehicles were used in attacks on farms.
* 6 April 2001 Information Minister Jonathan Moyo, a former Ford Foundation employee, makes a court application to bar the Zimbabwe Independent from publishing details of a Ford Foundation civil suit against him.
* 10 March 2001 Njabulo Ncube, bureau chief in Bulawayo for the Financial Gazette, told by war veterans that he would be dead by the 2002 presidential elections.
* 28 January 2001 The printing press of the Daily News is bombed. Five days earlier, the Minister for Information, Jonathan Moyo, said the independent daily would be silenced because it posed a risk to the nation.
* 26 January 2001 Four Daily News journalists and Mark Chavunduka, from The Standard, are questioned over reports that a civil lawsuit had been filed in the United States against President Mugabe.
* October 2000 Independent radio station, Capitol Radio, is closed down by authorities during test transmissions.
* 1 April, 2000 Media Monitoring Project researcher Edwina Spicer detained.
* April 2000 Editorial offices of Daily News targeted with firebomb.
* 8 February 1999 Reporter Gracee Kwinjeh and publisher Dr Ibbo Mandaza of the Zimbabwe Mirror detained.
* 22 January 1999 Clive Wilson, managing director of The Standard, arrested. Amnesty International ranked him a prisoner of conscience.
* 12 January 1999 Mark Chavunduka (above) and Ray Choto of The Standard arrested and charged with "publishing a false story capable of causing alarm and despondency" after an article about an alleged military coup attempt. They were tortured in military detention.
http://www.independent.co.uk/story.jsp?story=90175
By Basildon Peta
23 August 2001
In Harare
AT 10.15am today I will put on my best suit and tie, get into my Mazda, drive the 10 miles to Harare's notorious central police station and turn myself in. I have been avoiding the police since finding out that I am top of a government hit list to be "murdered or harmed" before the presidential elections next year.
For two days the police have been looking for me.
On Tuesday a group of detectives showed up at my office while I was out. I know that for as long as I remain in this country, they can track me down. So there is no point hiding any longer. I have no option but to confront my accusers, those people who have called me a "British spy", an enemy of the state.
So this morning I will walk in to the police station, accompanied by my lawyer, Linda Cook, hoping for the best.
I know I have done nothing wrong; I have not transgressed the law in any way. I have spent much of the past 48 hours mentally scrolling through every incident that might have inadvertently brought me into trouble with the police. Nothing so much as a traffic ticket. And even if I had been caught speeding, detectives working under the auspices of Zimbabwe's notorious Law and Order Department would hardly be tracking my movements and seeking to question me.
All day yesterday my phone rang, with calls of support. While those calls flooded in from Britain, the US, Ireland and South Africa, the Harare Law and Order police were also on the phone, to my lawyer, playing a game of good cop, nasty cop. While one of the detectives said they wanted to know more about threats that had been made against me with a view to offering protection, another said I could expect to have charges pressed against me.
I can live with being charged if I am then freed to challenge those charges with a legal defence. What worries me is the prospect that they will chase away the lawyer and hand me over to somebody else, with a more sinister purpose. Two of my journalist friends, Mark Chavunduka and Ray Choto, were called in to the same police station recently, only to be blindfolded, and handed over to the army for torture. They went to London for treatment from the Medical Foundation for the Care of Victims of Torture.
The two different versions offered by detectives working in the same department for why they want to see me are not reassuring. My lawyer suspects that the detective who spoke of wanting to guarantee my safety wanted an easy way of getting me to the police station.
Ironically, Mark Chavunduka, who edits the Standard newspaper, was yesterday back in the same police station. He phoned me from the station to tell me he has been charged with criminally defaming President Robert Mugabe over a story published by the Sunday Times in London, alleging Mr Mugabe fears he is being haunted by a ghost.
Could I have defamed anyone? I am certain I have not.
For now, I cannot concentrate on my job as an investigative journalist highlighting the gross injustices perpetrated against the people of Zimbabwe. Anyway, the police seem less interested in bringing to justice those who have been allowed to get away, literally, with murder than pursuing journalists.
As I prepare to hand myself over to the mercy of President Mugabe's law officers, I know that at least the eyes of the world have been drawn to my plight and that of other Zimbabwean journalists.
Who knows what awaits me in the darkened rooms of the police station? Who knows where this traumatic and violent episode will leave my country? But at least as long as I and my fellow journalists continue to tell the truth, the world cannot ignore us.
How Mugabe has fought to gag free speech
By Basildon Peta
23 August 2001
* 20 August 2001 The Standard reveals the existence of a security services hit list of journalists "to be harmed or killed".
* 13 August 2001 Geoff Nyarota (above), editor in chief of the Daily News, is arrested with three reporters after he ran a story alleging that police vehicles were used in attacks on farms.
* 6 April 2001 Information Minister Jonathan Moyo, a former Ford Foundation employee, makes a court application to bar the Zimbabwe Independent from publishing details of a Ford Foundation civil suit against him.
* 10 March 2001 Njabulo Ncube, bureau chief in Bulawayo for the Financial Gazette, told by war veterans that he would be dead by the 2002 presidential elections.
* 28 January 2001 The printing press of the Daily News is bombed. Five days earlier, the Minister for Information, Jonathan Moyo, said the independent daily would be silenced because it posed a risk to the nation.
* 26 January 2001 Four Daily News journalists and Mark Chavunduka, from The Standard, are questioned over reports that a civil lawsuit had been filed in the United States against President Mugabe.
* October 2000 Independent radio station, Capitol Radio, is closed down by authorities during test transmissions.
* 1 April, 2000 Media Monitoring Project researcher Edwina Spicer detained.
* April 2000 Editorial offices of Daily News targeted with firebomb.
* 8 February 1999 Reporter Gracee Kwinjeh and publisher Dr Ibbo Mandaza of the Zimbabwe Mirror detained.
* 22 January 1999 Clive Wilson, managing director of The Standard, arrested. Amnesty International ranked him a prisoner of conscience.
* 12 January 1999 Mark Chavunduka (above) and Ray Choto of The Standard arrested and charged with "publishing a false story capable of causing alarm and despondency" after an article about an alleged military coup attempt. They were tortured in military detention.
http://www.independent.co.uk/story.jsp?story=90175
Відповіді
2001.08.25 | Augusto
Ну що? Схоже! Звалюю ще читати, німців.
http://www.dwelle.de/russian/kommentar.htmlУкраина: слова - новые, элиты - старые
Коммунистический режим на Украине рухнул без шума и пыли. Революция свершилась в кабинетах. В дни ГКЧП украинские лидеры выжидали. А потом решительно заняли сторону победителей. 24 августа 91 года Верховный Совет подавляющим большинством голосов провозгласил независимость Украины, а его председатель Леонид Кравчук отрёкся от коммунистических идеалов и стал пламенным борцом "незалежности". В конце 91 года бывший партократ стал первым президентом суверенной Украины.
Но и сегодня политический истеблишмент на Украине состоит из бывших представителей номенклатуры. И президент Кучма, и его политический противник Александр Мороз - партийные выдвиженцы, именно коммунистическая партия обучила их методам управления и политической борьбы. У этих так называемых национал-коммунистов сохранились разветвлённые связи, их представители занимают ключевые посты в экономике и в политике. С оглядкой на Запад они пышно разглагольствуют о парламентаризме, об участии в принятии политических решений, о независимости средств массовой информации. Но за всей этой словесной шелухой сохраняется привычный советский стиль работы.
Именно поэтому политическая система на Украине представляет собой причудливую смесь демократических и авторитарных элементов. Вот уже семь лет страной правит президент Леонид Кучма. Первой его заботой было расширить президентские полномочия. Кучма успешно лавирует между могущественными олигархами и коммунистами. Это не так уж и трудно, ведь старые друзья и соратники у него есть среди обеих группировок. С их помощью президент свалил правительство Ющенко, которое впервые попыталось провести на Украине реальные реформы. И хотя Украина с 95 года является членом Советы Европы, права человека в стране остаются абстрактным понятием. Средства массовой информации могут оставаться свободными лишь при условии, что они не критикуют президента. Независимые журналисты подвергаются давлению вплоть до убийств.
Убийство журналиста Георгия Гонгадзе и привело к первому политическому кризису на Украине. В начале этого года многотысячные толпы требовали расследовать участие государственных структур в преступлении. Появился лозунг "Украина без Кучмы". Но возмущение быстро улеглось. Когда человек не знает, как прокормить семью, ему не до политики.
Вот и в десятую годовщину своей независимости Украина остаётся демократической по Конституции и советской по духу страной. Постоянно растёт её экономическая зависимость от России. Сохранились и личные связи с российскими политическими элитами. Достаточно напомнить о давней дружбе между Леонидом Кучмой и послом Газпрома и России в Киеве Виктором Черномырдиным. Демонстративную поддержку Кучме оказывает и президент России Владимир Путин. Эта зависимость от старшего брата - тоже часть тяжкого советского наследия.
Но главным тормозом на пути Украины к созданию действующей парламентской демократии, к реальным политическим и экономическим реформам, к повышению жизненного уровня населения были и остаются старые номенклатурные кадры у рычагов власти. Без смены старых элит не будет и реформ.
Утя Шефер,
(вона взагалі то "Уте", але мені більш подобається "Утя"! А.Г.)
обозреватель "Немецкой волны"
2001.08.25 | Augusto
Австрияки, земляки колишні. Теж розбирають польоти за десять років.
http://www.dwelle.de/today/prruss3.html#aaАвстрийский журнал "Профиль" подводит итоги десяти лет независимости Украины:
24 августа 1991 года Украина торжественно провозгласила свою независимость и этим окончательно похоронила Советский Союз. Парадоксально, но факт: сегодня, десять лет спустя, Украина остаётся гораздо более советской, чем её старший брат - Россия. Политику страны определяют старая номенклатура и олигархи. Стоило вице-премьеру Юлии Тимошенко сделать попытку порвать мафиозные связи, как из пыльных архивов тут же извлекли давно забытое обвинение в неуплате налогов. О приватизации на Украине и говорить не приходится. Все энергокомплексы на востоке страны контролируются близкими к правительству группировками. В экономике царит разруха. В прошлом году валовой национальный продукт составил 43 процента от уровня 1990-го года. По объёму ВНП Украина сравнялась с Анголой. Премьер-министр Виктор Ющенко впервые сумел было переломить эту тенденцию спада, но в мае Верховная Рада отправила его в отставку, -
напоминает австрийский журнал "Профиль" и заключает:
Начиная с предвыборной кампании 1999-го года, президент Кучма систематически подавляет независимые СМИ. Возвращается политическая слежка. Во Львове студентам, которые намеревались принять участие в демонстрации протеста в Киеве, пригрозили исключением из университета. А преподавателя, который поддержал студенческую забастовку, просто уволили с работы. В отличие от Польши, Чехии или Венгрии, Украина мало внимания уделяет Европе и Западу в целом. Вместо этого она семимильными шагами снова сближается с Россией. Энергосистемы уже объединены, на территории Украины появились российские военные. По мнению киевского политолога Павло Кутуева, Москва Киеву милее, потому что там не задают каверзных вопросов о демократии и правах человека, - заключает австрийский журнал "Профиль".
2001.08.25 | Augusto
Бі-Бі-Сі ( з Файн. Таймса).
На День Незалежності "Файненшл Таймс" змальовує Україну чорними фарбамиУП, 24.08.2001, 19:29
Британська газета "Файненшл Таймс" вміщує розлогу статтю під заголовком "Після десяти років українці зважують досягнення незалежності", де вже у підзаголовку зазначається, що за військовими парадами політики простежують посередні досягнення, а критики бачать лише втрачені можливості.
Часопис також наводить іншу статтю присвячену Україні, де вказується, що, згідно з статистикою Міжнародної організації праці, чотири з п'яти українців вважають себе бідними і не сподіваються подолати злидні до старості. 80% громадян України вважають, що у них немає доступу до задовільного медичного обслуговування. 40% працівників не отримували зарплатню впродовж останніх трьох місяців. Хоча офіційна статистика по безробіттю не перевищує 5%, згідно з опитування Міжнародної організації з праці, без роботи в Україні перебувають принаймні 12% респондентів.
Зазначаючи, що українські політики вважають головним досягненням першого десятиріччя утвердження української держави, "Файненшл Таймс" вказує, на загалом, жалюгідний стан української економіки.
Україна втратила свої позиції як центр машинобудування, оскільки підприємства не спромоглися пристосуватися до світових стандартів по тому, як військові замовлення часів Холодної війни завершилися. Окрім того, уся промислова інфраструктура, починаючи з доріг, залізниць, водотягів, ліній електропередач та каналізацій, засвідчують цілковитий занепад, що ляже колосальним навантаженням на майбутні уряди. При цьому часопис цитує першого президента України Леоніда Кравчука, який визнав, що першу декаду української незалежності не можна вважати успішною.
Що стосується сучасного президента Леоніда Кучми, завершує "Файненшл Таймс", то його репутація помітно похитнулася після минулорічних звинувачень у причетності до вбивства журналіста. Рівень довіри до Кучми, веде далі "ФТ", впав нижче позначки у чотири відсотки і більшість українців міркують хто може стати наступним президентом України.
Сам президент Кучма при цьому цілком зберігає владні важелі і на наступних парламентських виборах планує підтримати центристську коаліцію на чолі з проросійськими промисловиками, завершує "Файненшл Таймс".
Українська служба Бі-Бі-Сі
2001.08.25 | independent
Що відбулося того дня
Entering the nerve centre of Mugabe's enforcersPolice question The Independent's correspondent in Harare for two hours in a surreal interview about a government hit list
By Basildon Peta in Harare
24 August 2001
After two days of eluding President Robert Mugabe's law enforcement agents, I showed up yesterday at the Harare Central Police Station to turn myself in, as required, on the stroke of 10.30am.
The station is an intimidating place, perhaps the most sinister building in a city living under the shadow of President Mugabe's volatile rule.
I entered through the main door, passed a number of uniformed and plain-clothes policemen, turned down a long corridor and descended into a dark and dank basement. Interrogation rooms were all around, and I remembered those who had been taken in before me for questioning.
Some of them ended up blindfolded and bundled off to the torture cells of President Mugabe's army. Others suffered torture of a different kind, and found themselves charged with crimes that they had never committed.
Now my lawyers and I stood in one of these scruffy, dimly lit offices in the basement.
This is the very nerve centre of the state surveillance machine. From here, the police of the Law and Order Department monitor anyone who has the temerity to challenge the authority of Mr Mugabe's party, Zanu-PF. People believe these offices hold volumes that have the names, addresses and personal details of each and every member of the opposition. It is Zimbabwe's version of East Germany's Stasi files.
Behind the desk sat a corpulent plain-clothes officer who introduced himself as Detective Inspector Malungwa. In Zimbabwe the police don't usually provide first names. He politely directed me and my two lawyers – Linda Cook and Roslyn Zigomo – to take seats around a broken table in the middle of the office.
An assortment of guns and rifles lay on the floor beside the detective inspector's desk. I wondered why they had gone to the trouble of leaving the guns out. Was it a message for me?
As we sat there in silence, Det Insp Malungwa pulled out a copy of the Zimbabwean Standard newspaper. It was the edition that carried a story claiming that a hit list of journalists to be eliminated or otherwise harmed before next year's presidential elections had been drawn up, and that I was number one on that list.
He flipped through the paper, alighting on the story headlined "Media Hit List Drawn". He folded the page; the story was marked in red pen. Det Insp Malungwa was obviously playing good cop.
The previous day his boss, Superintendent Mathema, had told my lawyers over the telephone that unspecified charges would be preferred against me when I reported to the station.
Now Det Insp Malungwa was saying that he simply wanted to know more about the numerous threats that had been directed against me during the past few weeks.
My lawyer interrupted. Was this why I had been summoned to the station, she asked. Superintendent Mathema had led us to believe otherwise; we required clarification.
The officer remained vague. "Let me call Mathema," he said. He lifted the phone and dialled a number but there was no reply. Once more he repeated that the police merely wanted to help me since my life was clearly under threat.
Who, he wanted to know, had been threatening me. Could we supply the identities of the people who had sent me anonymous death threats in the post? We patiently pointed out that it was difficult to know who was making the threats since they were anonymous.
Then he changed tack. Why, he asked, had I accused the police of applying the law selectively, in remarks reported by the Standard?
To help jog his memory, my lawyer chronicled a number of incidents that the police had not bothered to investigate. One of those was the torture of two journalists by the Zimbabwe army which to this day has been ignored by the police despite a court order directing an inquiry. Another was my own report of how I had received a packet of bullets in the post.
Two hours passed, and Det Insp Malungwa decided the meeting should come to an end. We were asked to leave.
Throughout the interview he didn't ask me about the actual hit list itself as published by the Standard. Nor did he mention anything relating to my work as a journalist nor single out any story that I had written in the local and international media to the discomfort of the police.
As we left the office, I and my lawyers were still puzzled as to what the exact purpose of this interview had been. I, however, could not help but feel vindicated that not one of my stories had resulted in a criminal charge.
My lawyer, however, warned that the lack of clarity in the police action on that afternoon meant that I should still remain vigilant.
I was relieved to have emerged unscathed from the meeting. But last night there was an ominous development when Vice-President Simon Muzenda told a police parade that "errant journalists" – those who portrayed the army, the police and the secret service as "barbaric and morally decadent" – would face the full wrath of the law.
"The government is aware of the subtle strategies being perpetuated by unpatriotic citizens and sell-outs to portray Zimbabwe as a society devoid of law and order," he said.