We
were always taught in university that journalism is the "fourth
estate", a watchdog on those in power, a force that challenges them and
keeps them alert for they know someone will hold them accountable. But,
more importantly, this "fourth estate" is on a noble mission to give
voice to the voiceless, bring attention to the unnoticed, and shed light
upon what's been cast in the dark. Our professors told us time and time again that: journalism should reveal wrongdoing,
raise awareness and demand justice - it is an active (and
much needed) player in democracy.
And so journalism suddenly became the most intriguing thing that I ever came across, especially that this happened after the 2011 revolution when the whole country was bubbling with enthusiasm.
I was quite lucky to have worked with colleagues in on-campus newspapers who were (and some still are) vehement believers in such values of journalism. They were extremely enthusiastic about the potential impact news can make. We reported night and day on stories, interviewed tens of people, discussed scenarios and plans for hours - thinking this was our next journalistic breakthrough, that we'd be our university's Woodward and Bernstein.
It was all about "let's do some real journalism" - and to me, this "real" journalism was always about the story. We wanted to find the important stories, the good stories, work properly on them and get them published.
However, I started to feel recently that it isn't actually always about the story. A lot of the time it's more about the journalist. And this issue can have a lot of elements to look at and factors to consider. But what really drew my attention recently is how reporters are treated with superiority when it comes to situations where they are jailed, injured or killed.
The argument is that journalists are out risking their security to inform everyone else of the truth. And if you arrest or kill a journalist - you're silencing a channel of vital communication. And so the significance of the crackdown is doubled - you do not only trespass over a human being's freedom, but you deny the public the important service this journalist is giving them.
And so journalism suddenly became the most intriguing thing that I ever came across, especially that this happened after the 2011 revolution when the whole country was bubbling with enthusiasm.
I was quite lucky to have worked with colleagues in on-campus newspapers who were (and some still are) vehement believers in such values of journalism. They were extremely enthusiastic about the potential impact news can make. We reported night and day on stories, interviewed tens of people, discussed scenarios and plans for hours - thinking this was our next journalistic breakthrough, that we'd be our university's Woodward and Bernstein.
It was all about "let's do some real journalism" - and to me, this "real" journalism was always about the story. We wanted to find the important stories, the good stories, work properly on them and get them published.
However, I started to feel recently that it isn't actually always about the story. A lot of the time it's more about the journalist. And this issue can have a lot of elements to look at and factors to consider. But what really drew my attention recently is how reporters are treated with superiority when it comes to situations where they are jailed, injured or killed.
The argument is that journalists are out risking their security to inform everyone else of the truth. And if you arrest or kill a journalist - you're silencing a channel of vital communication. And so the significance of the crackdown is doubled - you do not only trespass over a human being's freedom, but you deny the public the important service this journalist is giving them.