The PTV Conundrum

Growing up in the Pakistan of 1980s, a time before Cartoon Network and HBO, one of my fondest childhood memories is Ma’a waking me up in the morning for school, just as Mustansar Hussain Tarar did the morning ‘Chacha gi’ show. At the conclusion of his show, PTV aired a much awaited five-minute cartoon segment. And again, in the afternoon, just as the PTV transmission resumed (with tilawat-e-Quran), around 4 p.m. was the airing of an extended thirty-minute cartoon fragment.
These brief moments on PTV were the highlight of each school-going student in those days. My entire routine, and that of my siblings, revolved around these two cartoon segments. If you did not finish breakfast and drink your milk in full, you could not watch the morning cartoons. And if you had not completed the homework, you were banned from watching the afternoon segment.
The dominion of PTV over the daily routine, narrative and discourse of the citizens of Pakistan, back then, was near absolute. Sunday mornings with ‘Sona Chandi’; Wednesday nights with ‘Andhera Ujala’; dinner at nine sharp, while watching the news; And if you stay up late enough, the conclusion of the transmission each day (after ‘Halat-e-Hazra’), at midnight, with recitation of the national anthem!
And so this week, as PTV celebrates its 50th Anniversary, having been reduced to a fraction of its past glory, it is pertinent to pause and review the distance traveled by this great national institution, the losses suffered, and the perils that still await its path.
The story of PTV started with humble beginnings, with a tent on the back lot of the Pakistan Broadcasting Corporation, in 1961, originally as a privately owned television channel, under the stewardship of Syed Wajid Ali, in collaboration with a Japanese enterprise, Nippon Electric Company. Subsequently, on 26 November 1964, the then President Ayub Khan inaugurated the first official television station, which commenced broadcast from Lahore, followed by Dhaka (1965), Rawalpindi (1965), and Karachi (1966), and was incorporated, on 29 May 1967, as the “Pakistan Television Corporation”, under the Company Act, 1913.
In 1971, as part of the nationalization program, PTV was brought completely under the ownership and management of the government. As a result, through successive policies introduced during this period, the news reporting and cultural ambit of PTV got streamlined as a mouthpiece of the government narrative. Gradually, journalistic independence yielded to ‘national interest’. While, on the one hand, Bhuttos speeches and jalsas were covered in all their pomp and glory during the 1970s, on the other, the opposition movement (mainly led by Asghar Khan) barely made it to the news headlines of PTV. Independent opinion on the atrocities committed by ‘Pakistani’ government in Bangladesh were shunned from the discourse; tales of military might and victory against ‘Bharti’ forces were glorified, even deified.
Nonetheless, even amidst this nationally governed agenda, glimmers of independent thinkers, writers and analysts could still be felt in certain parts of the PTV network. However, these too were quickly snuffed out and muted by the military boots of General Zia-ul-Haq’s regime. New policies were introduced: women had to wear a head-scarf at all times while narrating the news; drama serials were subjected to strict censorship on account of male-female interaction, and any narrative that displeased the military government. Mujahideen became the heroes on PTV news. Mullahs became the messiahs. Sachal and Bahu were vilified.
As is the case with most journeys into the darkness of conservatism, PTV too found it impossible to climb back into the light of modernity in the post Zia-ul-Haq period of the 1990s. Government continued to dictate the narrative of the time. Dissent and independent analysis soon became a fable of the past. And the public at large, having no other television alternative, became attuned to the idea of State narrative being the only acceptable news and analysis.
This monopoly of PTV ended in the early 2000s, with the ushering in of the age of private television networks. During the Musharraf years, despite all of its military character, independent media found a new voice. Suddenly, dissent, especially against the government and rulers of the time, became the ‘real’ news. Coupled with an influx of international television channels, especially from neighboring India, the censorship policy had to be relaxed. No longer were women mandated to wear a headscarf in order to appear on TV. Advertisements became bolder. And a new generation of ‘anchors’ and ‘experts’ announced their arrival by splitting atoms with the State narrative of PTV.
The public, enamored by the freedom and audacity of the private news channels and entertainment networks, started to turn away from PTV. In stark juxtaposition to the conservative (even biased) State narrative of PTV, people started to pay more heed to the (evil?) sensationalism of ‘breaking news’. And this silent cultural revolution swept across Pakistan, PTV struggled to keep pace, eventually losing its market share and public confidence.
Today, sadly, PTV is perhaps the last channel that one turns to for either entertainment, or news. It is considered the farthest place from the world of independent analysis, dispassionate news or even thrilling drama serials. It is still frozen in a moment that belongs to the yesteryears. A time when listening to forgotten folk songs, or governmental view on the latest political drama, was the only alternative available to people. But the world and Pakistan, it seems, has moved on.
Something has to give, for PTV to get back into the game. As a State-owned channel, of course it must pay heed to its policies of inculcating greater awareness of our own history, heritage and culture. Of course it must continue to have the character and deed of a ‘family channel’, and air programs in regional languages. Of course it must abide by (some of) the stricter censorship policies that reflect the larger sentiment of our populi. And of course it can continue to (somewhat) plead the government’s case on national and international issues.
But even amidst all these constraints, PTV needs to find a way to keep pace with the dynamic modern world. It must find a way to strike that careful balance between being conservative, yet credible, that other State-owned institutions such as the BBC in the United Kingdom, or CBC in Canada were able to do.
It must realize that the censorship standards of the bygone years no longer apply to entertainment of the modern day. That in 2014, people are no longer fooled by the State narrative on political issues. That independence of journalism, even when it is critiquing the very masters of PTV, must be demonstrated as a brand of credibility. That the history of the world is teeming with examples of cultural icons like Edward Murrow, who were able to critique the system from within. That this legacy, despite its perils, holds the promise of salvation for a waning PTV viewership.
And as soon as PTV and its management reclaim this spirit of independence and modernity, we can all start the journey towards saving this great national institution from itself.

Work in Hostile Environments

Approximately 100 media professionals working in rural areas of Pakistan will benefit from a training programme that will equip them with the necessary safety skills and knowledge to report in hostile environments.

The project, which is being implemented by the Rural Media Network of Pakistan (RMNP), kicked off with a workshop held in Tehsil Yazman, District Bahawalpur, on 18 and 19 October 2014. This first event was conducted by Karachi- and Lahore-based trainers, and was attended by 20 rural journalists.

“Pakistan is one of deadliest places for journalists; only in the current year we have had nine journalists and five media workers killed,” said the President of RMNP, Ehsan Ahmed Khan Sehar.

“We hail the decision to organize this workshop in Yazman and we really hope that the beneficiaries of this training will be able to cope with the alarming situation in rural Pakistan, while transferring the newly-acquired skills to their colleagues working on dangerous assignments,” said the President of the Yazman Press Club, Muhammad Ramzan Goraya.

Subjects discussed at the workshop included an assessment of the security situation, how to prepare in advance for possible threats and risks, and how to manage core contacts and informants while working in hostile areas. Participants learnt techniques on how to cover violent crowds, along with useful tips for the drafting of sensitive stories. One training session focused on how to contact and relate to militant groups.

The Yazman workshop also discussed how media can monitor attacks on press freedom, and support journalists who have been victims of such attacks. Participants discussed the importance of monitoring freedom of expression and were provided with practical guidelines for this.

The workshop ended with the setting up of a five-member press freedom monitoring committee under the chairmanship of senior journalist Rana Muhammad Hussein Shahid.

The training programme, supported by IPDC, and implemented by RMNP in collaboration with UNESCO/Islamabad, will consist of a series of six training workshops planned to take place before March 2015.

As it unfolds, the project will tackle the challenge of identifying and involving women journalists in rural areas of the Punjab and other provinces in Pakistan, as there is a major gender imbalance in the rural media.

Censorship and the Award

The award is most typically conferred on those that do not conform to Censorship requests and keep free of regulatory entanglements.  For this reason the founding board will most likely make its award from a pool of nominees who face the greatest hurdles of censorship and rise above to overcome.

Even the Book of Face Censored

This statement was originally published on eff.org on 10 November 2014.

For years, pundits and scholars have warned of the implications of social media companies capitulating to foreign governments, handing over user data or censoring content. Facebook's latest government requests report, released late last week, demonstrates why: as governments grow aware of the fact that stifling speech is as easy as submitting an order to a corporation, the number of those orders will drastically increase.

The latest report shows that Turkey and Pakistan in particular are keen to exploit Facebook's willingness to respond to legal orders from countries where they are not legally required to do so. While the largest number of censorship requests came from India (where Facebook has a large presence), Turkey and Pakistan weren't far behind with 1893 and 1773 requests for content removal respectively.

Facebook states that it only removes content that is "illegal under local law," but does not provide additional information on censored content. In Turkey - where criticism of the state or the country's modern founder, Atatürk, is prohibited - this means that Facebook is, in effect, complicit in political censorship. Same goes for Pakistan; earlier this year, Twitter reversed a decision to censor content at the behest of the Pakistan Telecommunications Authority following criticism from Pakistani civil society. At the time, the company issued a statement that read, in part:

We have reexamined the requests and, in the absence of additional clarifying information from Pakistani authorities, have determined that restoration of the previously withheld content is warranted. The content is now available again in Pakistan.

While we often find the results regrettable, we recognize that when a company opens an office in a given country, it must comply with local laws and remove content accordingly. Nevertheless, we believe that - as Twitter has done - companies should be transparent about the legal requests that they receive and their subsequent actions.

On the other hand, when a company does not have a presence in a given country and is thus not subject to its censorious laws, we believe that it can and should refuse government censorship requests. This is as true for Pakistan and Turkey as it is for countries like Saudi Arabia, Austria, and Kuwait, which all show up in the most recent report.

At minimum, we expect companies to be transparent about the requests that they receive. While Facebook has improved in this area and now issues a regular report showing government requests, we urge the company to take it a step further and display exactly what kind of censorship requests it is receiving from governments. In doing so, the company will allow civil society in these countries to make more informed decisions about how they tackle censorship.

Censorship Abounds

Imran [Khan], [Tahir ul] Qadri, and the ISI [Inter-Services Intelligence] are our best friends," our weekly editorial meeting at Pakistan's Express Tribune was (jokingly) told on Aug. 13, 2014, a day before the two political leaders began their separate long marches from Lahore to Islamabad, and plunged the country into crisis. "We know it's not easy, but that's the way it is -- at least for now. I promise to make things better soon," said the editor, who had called the meeting to inform us about the media group's editorial policy during the sit-ins and protests that would eventually, momentarily paralyze the Pakistani government.
The senior editorial staff, myself included, reluctantly agreed to the orders, which came from the CEO, because our jobs were on the line. Media groups in Pakistan are family-owned and make all decisions unilaterally -- regardless of whether they concern marketing and finance or editorial content and policy -- advancing their personal agendas through the influential mainstream outlets at their disposal. A majority of the CEOs and media house owners are businessmen, with no background (or interest) in the ethics of journalism. The owners and publishers make it very clear to their newsrooms and staff -- including the editor -- that any tilt or gloss they proscribe is non-negotiable. As a result, serious concerns persist about violence against and the intimidation of members of the media. In fact, Pakistan ranks 158 out of 180 countries in the 2014 World Press Freedom Index.
Yet there is also a more elusive problem within the country's press landscape: the collusion of Pakistan's powerful military and the nation's media outlets. I experienced this first-hand while I worked as a journalist at the Express Tribune during the recent protests led by Khan, the populist cricketer-turned-politician, and Qadri, a Pakistani-Canadian cleric and soapbox orator.
During this time, the owners of Pakistani media powerhouses -- namely ARY News, the Express Media Group, and Dunya News -- received instructions from the military establishment to support the "dissenting" leaders and their sit-ins. The military was using the media to add muscle and might to the anti-government movement in an attempt to cut Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif down to size.
The media obliged.
At the Express Media Group, anything related to Khan and Qadri were inexorably the lead stories on the front page or the hourly news bulletin. I witnessed polls showing support for Sharif being censored, while news stories on the misconduct of the protesters, along with any evidence that support among the protestors for Khan and Qadri was dwindling, were axed. While the BBC was publishing stories about how Qadri's protesters were allegedly being paid and Dawn, the leading English-language Pakistani newspaper -- and the Express Tribune's main competitor -- was writing powerful editorials about the military's role in the political crisis, we were making sure nothing negative about them went to print.
Day after day, my national editor told me about how he received frantic telephone calls late in the evening about what the lead story should be for the next day and what angle the article should take. First, we were told to focus on Khan. "Take this as Imran's top quote," "This should be in the headline," "Take a bigger picture of him" were the specific directives given by the CEO. Shortly after, the news group's owner was agitated that the newspaper had not been focusing enough on Qadri. We later found out that the military establishment was supporting the two leaders equally and the media was expected to do the same.
In their professional capacities, the editor and desk editors tried to put up a fight: they allowed some columns against the protests slip through; they did not extend the restrictions to publish against Khan and Qadri to the Web version of the newspaper; and they encouraged reporters to focus on the paper's strengths, such as investigative and research-based reports. However, it was difficult for the staff to keep its spirits high with the CEO's interference and his readiness to abide by the establishment's instructions. To be sure, the dictates were never given to the senior editorial staff, of which I was a part, directly. They were instead relayed to the editor or the national editor (who heads the main National Desk) via the CEO and then forwarded to us.
People often speculate about the media-military collusion in Pakistan, but in the instance of the current political standoff in the federal capital, as well as the Geo News controversy -- where the establishment was seen resorting to extreme methods, such as forcing cable operators to suspend Geo's transmission and impelling competing media houses to publish news stories against Geo, to curtail the broadcast of the largest and most-watched television channel for accusing then-ISI chief Zaheer-ul-Islam of being behind the gun attack on Hamid Mir, its most-popular anchor -- the media and the military worked hand-in-hand.
In most cases, it is common knowledge that the heavyweight broadcast anchors have strong ties to members of the military establishment, and they personally take direct instructions that are then conveyed to the owners of their respective media groups. This bias is often reflected in their coverage.
The anchors not only indulge in inaccurate reporting, but also shape political discourse against the democratically elected government and even the efficacy of democracy itself. Former Pakistani government officials have corroborated this by narrating their experience. One senior official told me: "Television anchors receive funds from the military establishment, if not the civilian Ministry of Information and Broadcasting. Today, all the Pakistani intelligence agencies and the military have media departments that ostensibly only disseminate background information and press briefings, but are actually guiding and managing discourses and the national narrative."
And this narrative is pro-army. Consider one example in particular.
On Aug. 31, when Khan's and Qadri's protesters had stormed the Parliament's gates, Mubasher Lucman, a television anchor for ARY News -- now the most-watched TV channel in Pakistan after Geo's transmission was illegally suspended -- saluted the army during a live broadcast and invited the military to take over "and save the protesters and the country." Earlier on Aug. 25, he welcomed the "sound of boots" (a reference to the military), as he had no sympathy for corrupt politicians who looted the country.
As if this was not enough, Lucman and his fellow anchors at ARY, some of whom are known to have strong ties to the army and the ISI, also made unverified claims on live television that seven protesters had been killed by riot police in the ensuing clash. (It was reported by other news outlets that three people had died, one by accident.) Moreover, when Javed Hashmi, the estranged president of Khan's Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaaf (PTI) party, came out in public on Sep. 1 to reveal how Khan was banking on the military and the judiciary to end Sharif's government, Lucman slammed Hashmi, while his fellow anchor, Fawad Chaudhry, insisted that Hashmi had been "planted in [the] PTI" by the prime minister's closest aides.
Hashmi, who is known for his principled politics and who has been tortured and imprisoned by the military over the years, made the claims about Khan in a press conference where he revealed that: "Imran Khan said we cannot move forward without the army...He told us that he has settled all the matters; there will be elections in September."
Soon after this, we at the Express Tribune were instructed by the military to highlight statements released by the army's Inter-Services Public Relations office about how it was not a party to the crisis. When the military was on the defensive, issuing rebuttals to Hashmi's "revelations," we saw the instructions lessen and the powerful institution backing off. Yet media discourse throughout Pakistan's history has been influenced by the military, the most powerful institution in the country, or, in a few cases, has been strong-armed and intimidated by civilian heads of state until they were ousted by the military. There is a structural bias against democratic institutions and elected officials in Pakistan, and such a discourse has the not-unintentional effect of making the military seem like a better alternative, thereby reinforcing the notion that democracy does not work.
Media owners seem to "choose" the military establishment as it has been the most potent force and the only constant in Pakistan's polity. The institutional context of the country's power structure and patronage politics compels organizations and individuals to be a part of the system, which begins and ends with the military and its premier intelligence agency, the ISI. Abiding by the system without asking questions is rewarded. But even in a country with a deeply problematic history, the intensity of the recent interference is shocking.
Before the current political standoff, the establishment was dictating headlines and editorial policies during Sharif's trip to India for the inauguration of his counterpart, Narendra Modi, on May 26. While working at the Express Tribune, I was instructed to change the lead story on the Sharif-Modi meeting to give it a negative tint, concentrating on how the Indian prime minister was not welcoming as he focused on security issues. The phrase "show-cause" had to be inserted in the headline, which was a direct order from the CEO, who was getting instructions from the military.
To be sure, the Express Media Group and its staff have been attacked several times during the past year for raising sensitive issues. And here too it tried to balance the military-sponsored anti-government slant by giving room to other opinions in the form of editorials and separate stories. But it also had to survive in a system where the military dominates every aspect of public life. It is a tough choice as the military refuses to protect the country's journalists, even as the media continues to safeguard the military's image and ostensible apolitical status.

TOR???

Mozilla’s mission is to build a better Internet. Right now, that means building one with an increased focus on user privacy with help from the fine folks at the Tor Project. They’re calling this new initiative Polaris, and their first set of privacy tweaks have already landed in Firefox nightly builds.

Polaris is backed by Mozilla and two other non-profits: the Center for Democracy and Technology, and the Tor Project. Their goal is to increase collaboration and “accelerate advances in privacy technology for the Web, protecting users and putting them back in control.

To kick things off, Mozilla is taking a long, hard look at Tor. There are a couple reasons why they are. First, they want to figure out how they might be able to use some of the tweaks the Tor project has made to the version of Firefox they ship in their browser bundle and integrate them into the mainstream Firefox codebase.

That would not only boost the privacy powers of Firefox, but it would also free up Torproject contributors to work on other things. If their code gets merged into Firefox, they don’t need to make as many modifications to the browser before shipping it in the Tor bundle — giving them more time to focus on things like privacy, speed, and network capacity.

And speaking of network capacity, Mozilla is going to help out there, too. They’ve offered to set up several Tor middle nodes, which will allow the Tor network to support a greater amount of traffic and improve speeds.

As for the changes that have already landed in Firefox nightly builds, Mozilla is looking at ways to selectively block content in the name of privacy without penalizing online advertisers too harshly. To try it out, you’ll need to grab a recent nightly build and setbrowser.polaris.enabled to true on the about:config page.

Since the feature blocks HTTP transmissions from untrusted domains, you’ll probably notice a bit of breakage on the websites you browse… but that’s a small price to pay for tracking protectionthat actually works.

Now read: Controversial Anonabox rises from the grave, scores $16,000 in pledges on Indiegogo

PK Censorship of FB

Complicity in Censorship: Facebook's Latest 

Government Requests Report

For years, pundits and scholars have warned of the implications of social media companies capitulating to foreign governments, handing over user data or censoring content. Facebook’s latest government requests report, released late last week, demonstrates why: as governments grow aware of the fact that stifling speech is as easy as submitting an order to a corporation, the number of those orders will drastically increase.

The latest report shows that Turkey and Pakistan in particular are keen to exploit Facebook’s willingness to respond to legal orders from countries where they are not legally required to do so. While the largest number of censorship requests came from India (where Facebook has a large presence), Turkey and Pakistan weren’t far behind with 1893 and 1773 requests for content removal respectively.

Facebook states that it only removes content that is "illegal under local law," but does not provide additional information on censored content. In Turkey—where criticism of the state or the country’s modern founder, Atatürk, is prohibited—this means that Facebook is, in effect, complicit in political censorship. Same goes for Pakistan; earlier this year, Twitter reversed a decision to censor content at the behest of the Pakistan Telecommunications Authority following criticism from Pakistani civil society. At the time, the company issued a statementthat read, in part:

We have reexamined the requests and, in the absence of additional clarifying information from Pakistani authorities, have determined that restoration of the previously withheld content is warranted. The content is now available again in Pakistan.

While we often find the results regrettable, we recognize that when a company opens an office in a given country, it must comply with local laws and remove content accordingly. Nevertheless, we believe that—as Twitter has done—companies should be transparent about the legal requests that they receive and their subsequent actions.

On the other hand, when a company does not have a presence in a given country and is thus not subject to its censorious laws, we believe that it can and should refuse government censorship requests. This is as true for Pakistan and Turkey as it is for countries like Saudi Arabia, Austria, and Kuwait, which all show up in the most recent report.

At minimum, we expect companies to be transparent about the requests that they receive. While Facebook has improved in this area and now issues a regular report showing government requests, we urge the company to take it a step further and display exactly what kind of censorship requests it is receiving from governments. In doing so, the company will allow civil society in these countries to make more informed decisions about how they tackle censorship.

Censors long history in the Subcontinent

he impulse to censor is as old as the impulse to create. Plato, not the most liberal of men, suggested that the work of storytellers should be carefully examined “and what they do well we must pass and what not, reject.” His purpose was to moralize literature; others, over the centuries, have offered equally noble motives. Ibn Khaldun, the great Arab historian, reported that in the seventh century, when Muslim soldiers invaded Persia, they discovered an extraordinary number of books; wishing to carry them off as loot, they asked Omar bin al-Khattab, second caliph of the Muslims, for permission. Omar’s answer became legendary and was applied to other book destructions: “Throw them in the river! If they hold a guide to the Truth, God has given us a better guide in the Holy Quran. And if they hold nothing but lies, may God rid us of them.” In our own time, the president of Turkey, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, forced Google and Twitter to remove content objected to by his government or risk blackouts, arguing that “these regulations do not impose any censorship at all on the Internet. . . . On the contrary, they make it safer and freer.” Morality, truth, civilized society, freedom: All these have been invoked to defend what most people would understand as censorship.

But what exactly is censorship? This is the question with which Robert Darnton, the foremost historian of the book and the art of reading, begins his enthralling new volume, “Censors at Work.” “Rather than starting with a definition and then looking for examples that conform to it,” Darnton writes, “I have proceeded by interrogating censors themselves.” The censors Darnton has interrogated belong to three very different historical settings: the Old Regime in France, British rule in India and the Communist state that existed under the name of the German Democratic Republic from 1949 to 1990. Darnton spoke with the German censors in the flesh, and with the ghosts of the French and British ones through the vast archives they left behind. Thankfully for Darnton, thankfully for his readers, the one incontrovertible fact about censors is that they love paperwork.

Most historians of censorship, like Fernando Báez in his excellent “A Universal History of the Destruction of Books,” assume that the censor’s task has always been to forbid and destroy. Darnton shows that this is not the case. The first period he explores is also that with which he is most familiar, having written numerous books on 18th-century France. He begins by looking at a book printed in Paris in 1722 that carries the “approbation and privilege of the king.” These approbations, as Darnton notes, qualify as censorship because they were “delivered by royal censors.”

But rather than what modern readers would expect from a censoring hand, they are something closer to our present-day blurbs. One of these censors, a professor at the Sorbonne, notes: “I had pleasure in reading it; it is full of fascinating things.” Another, a theologian, remarks with obvious delight that a book inspired “that sweet but avid curiosity that makes us want to continue further.” As Darnton makes clear, censorship under the Bourbon monarchy was not a system of limitations; it was a way of channeling the power of print through the figure of the king and his representatives, asserting royal authority over everything, even the word. Royal censors were not mainly on the outlook for subversive voices: instead, they worked like copy editors, concerned with matters of style, grammar, readability and originality of thought, even going so far as correcting spelling and redoing math. A book approved by the king should not be badly written.

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Continue reading the main story

In the 1750s, the term “bureaucracy” appeared in France to describe the increased reliance of the system on a complex hierarchy of clerks. Bureaucracy both simplified and complicated the job of the censor by requiring the participation of all kinds of other actors in the process of filtering and allotting or denying privileges to books. Darnton traces this system through a web that included not only authors, printers and booksellers, but also peddlers, smugglers and warehouse keepers. As becomes evident, censorship was not a problem that concerned only the intellectuals.

During the second period explored by Darnton, that of British rule in India, Darnton says, “in principle, the press was free but the state imposed severe sanctions whenever it felt threatened.” He relates the case of a certain James Long, an Anglo-Irish missionary in Bengal, who attempted “to survey everything printed in Bengali between April 1857 and April 1858” in order to help the newly established Indian Civil Service track what was being written. If censorship in 18th-­century France manifested itself primarily as a sort of literary criticism, in British India the main impulse seems to have been an obsessive ethnographic curiosity. Long appears to have been driven by an interest in all aspects of the “other” culture — philology, folklore, religion and Hindu philosophy — rather than by any concern with seditious plotting against British rule.

But Long’s interest in Bengali literature led to his downfall. In 1861, he arranged for the publication in English of a melodrama about the oppression of native workers by British planters that he thought might interest the public back home. The planters accused him of libel; Long was found guilty, fined a thousand rupees and sentenced to a month in prison. British law in India upheld freedom of speech, so the authorities needed to employ other means of controlling the spread of possibly subversive voices. The laws against libel and sedition became the British Empire’s censorship tools in the subcontinent.

In investigating the 40-odd-year rule of Communists in East Germany, Darnton was able to meet censors in person: a man and a woman who worked for the state and had never before met an American. They disliked the word “censorship.” What they did, they explained, was “planning,” since in a socialist system literature was “planned” like everything else. Darnton shows how, behind their bureaucratic activities, lay a complicated tangle of motives — ideological ones certainly, but also tactical politics and personal revenge. So ingrained was the German censors’ notion of duty to this system that even after the dissolution of the Communist state, they continued to report for work.

This last example of censorship is, of the three chosen by Darnton, the one that comes closest to the popular understanding of the term. On Nov. 25, 1988, the East German novelist Christoph Hein delivered a daring speech at a congress of the Authors Union in Berlin, urging the abolition of censorship. “The printing-authorization procedure,” Hein said, “supervision by the state, or to put it briefly and no less clearly, the censorship of publishing houses and books, of publishers and authors, is outmoded, useless, paradoxical, hostile to humanity, hostile to the people, illegal and punishable.” Hein’s words are, in their essence, true at any time in the embattled history of censorship, even today. Considering electronic censorship in China and the unrestricted surveillance of the American National Security Agency, Darnton asks: “Has modern technology produced a new kind of power, which has led to an imbalance between the role of the state and the rights of its citizens?”

As Darnton clearly shows, the labors of censors affect not only books and their makers, but vast sections of society. There are two possible ways of looking at censorship, he says: a narrow one, concentrating exclusively on the censors’ strategies, and another, more generous one that considers literature “as a cultural system embedded in a social order.” It’s obvious which of the two Darnton believes is the most important.

Islamic Censorship.............

An average of 70 percent of people living in six Arab countries said in a recently released study that they're in favor of censoring entertainment programs.

Northwestern University in Qatar, in partnership with the Doha Film Institute, interviewed more than 6,000 citizens and expatriates in Egypt, Lebanon, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Tunisia and the United Arab Emirates about their media consumption and attitudes toward entertainment. An average of seven in 10 respondents said they believe that violent and romantic content should be more heavily regulated and that "some scenes should be deleted, or whole programs banned, if some people find them offensive."

Despite this conservative outlook, Hollywood movies are surprisingly popular in the countries surveyed.

While most respondents said they get the bulk of their entertainment from Arab media, 64 percent of the countries' citizens said they watch international films and 47 percent said they watch American films. Nearly two-thirds of all respondents said that people benefit from watching entertainment from different parts of the world.

*MENA refers to the Middle East and North Africa.

Citizens of the Arab nations in the study aren't necessarily proud of these viewing habits. Sixty-nine percent said that movies from the Arab world are "good for morality," but a meager 15 percent felt the same about Hollywood movies. Forty-three percent of citizens said that Hollywood movies are "harmful for morality." European films were regarded as even more morally suspect.

Hollywood and other international shows and movies "might be considered 'guilty pleasures' that are enjoyed by many respondents despite the fact that many feel they are harmful," the survey authors wrote.

The survey also found that the region is afflicted by another guilty pleasure -- binge watching. Four in 10 respondents admitted to TV binge watching, defined by the study authors as viewing two or more television episodes in one sitting.

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Reporters Without Borders' Press Freedom Index 2013

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Censorship in PK

The Pakistani Constitution limits Censorship in Pakistan, but allows "reasonable restrictions in the interests of the sovereignty and integrity of Pakistan or public order or morality". Press freedom in Pakistan is limited by official censorship that restricts critical reporting and by the high level of violence against journalists. The armed forces, the judiciary, and religion are topics that frequently attract the government's attention.^[1]

Contents

  [hide] 

• 1 Overview
• 2 History
• 3 Internet
• 4 Short Message Service
• 5 See also
• 6 References
• 7 External links

Overview[edit]

Pakistan is a Muslim-majority country. Hence, it has several pro-Muslim laws in its Constitution. Freedom Houseranked Pakistan 134th out of 196 countries in its 2010 Freedom of the Press Survey. Pakistan's score was 61 on a scale from 1 (most free) to 100 (least free), which earned a status of "not free".^[2]

Reporters Without Borders put Pakistan 151st out of the 178 countries ranked in its 2010 Press Freedom Index and named Pakistan as one of "ten countries where it is not good to be a journalist". It said:

... in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Somalia and Mexico, countries either openly at war or in a civil war or some other kind of internal conflict, we see a situation of permanent chaos and a culture of violence and impunity taking root in which the press has become a favorite target. These are among the most dangerous countries in the world, and the belligerents there pick directly on reporters ....^[1]

And the "Close-up on Asia" section of the same report, goes on to say:

In Afghanistan (147th) and in Pakistan (151st), Islamist groups bear much of the responsibility for their country’s pitifully low ranking. Suicide bombings and abductions make working as a journalist an increasingly dangerous occupation in this area of South Asia. And the State has not slackened its arrests of investigative journalists, which sometimes more closely resemble kidnappings.^[1]

Newspapers, television, and radio are regulated by the Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority (PEMRA),^[3]which occasionally halts broadcasts and closes media outlets. Publication or broadcast of “anything which defames or brings into ridicule the head of state, or members of the armed forces, or executive, legislative or judicial organs of the state,” as well as any broadcasts deemed to be “false or baseless” can bring jail terms of up to three years, fines of up to 10 million rupees (US$165,000), and license cancellation.^[4] The Blasphemy law can bring fines and prison sentences of up to three years, while defiling the Quran requires imprisonment for life, and defaming Muhammadrequires a death sentence.^[5]

While some journalists practice self-censorship, a wide range of privately owned daily and weekly newspapers and magazines provide diverse and critical coverage of national affairs. The government controls the Pakistan Television (PTV) and Radio Pakistan, the only free-to-air broadcast outlets with a national reach, and predictably coverage supports official viewpoints. Private radio stations operate in some major cities, but are prohibited from broadcasting news programming. At least 25 private all-news cable and satellite television channels—such as Geo, ARY, Aaj, and Dawn, some of which broadcast from outside the country—provide domestic news coverage, commentary, and call-in talk shows. International television and radio broadcasts are usually available, with the important exception of a complete blockade of Indian television news channels.^[4][6]

Authorities sometimes exert control over media content through unofficial “guidance” to newspaper editors on placement of stories or topics than may be covered. It is not unheard of to pay for favorable press coverage, a practice that is exacerbated by the low salary levels of many journalists.^[4]

The government continues to restrict and censor some published material. Foreign books need to pass government censors before being reprinted. Books and magazines can be imported freely, but are subject to censorship for objectionable sexual or religious content. Obscene literature, a category the government defines broadly, is subject to seizure.^[6] Showing Indian films in Pakistan was banned starting with the 1965 war between the two countries until 2008 when the ban was partially lifted.^[7]

The press is much more restricted in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA), where independent radio is allowed only with permission from the government and no newspapers are published, and in Azad Kashmir, where publications need special permission from the regional government to operate and pro-independence publications are generally prohibited. In Pakistan’s restive Balochistan province reporters are caught between the Balochi nationalistsand the government.^[4]

History[edit]

On 22 April 2007 PEMRA threatened the private television channel AaJ TV with closure for airing news, talk shows, and other programs that discussed the then current judicial crisis. PEMRA warned all private TV channels not to air programs casting aspersions on the judiciary or on the “integrity of the armed forces of Pakistan”, as well as content which would encourage and incite violence, contained anything against the maintenance of law and order, or which promoted anti-national or anti-state attitudes.^[8]

During March 2009 demonstrations demanding the reinstatement of Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry, authorities temporarily shut down the cable service of Geo TV and Aaj TV in cities around the country.^[4][9]

In October 2009 four television news channels were blocked for several hours in the wake of a terrorist attack on the army headquarters in October 2009.^[10]

In 2009 conditions for reporters covering the ongoing conflict in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA) and parts of North West Frontier Province(NWFP) were particularly difficult, as correspondents were detained, threatened, expelled, or otherwise prevented from working, either by the Taliban and local tribal groups or by the army and intelligence services. Following the takeover of the Swat Valley by Islamic militants, cable television broadcasting was banned. During two major military offensives during the year—against Taliban-affiliated militants in the Swat Valley in April and the South Waziristan tribal area in October—reporters faced bans on access, pressure to report favorably on the offensives, and dozens of local journalists were forced to flee the area.^[4][11]

In August 2009, the Daily Asaap, Balochistan’s widely circulated Urdu-language newspaper, suspended publication, citing harassment from the security forces. Two other newspapers in Balochistan, Daily Balochistan Express and Daily Azadi, also reported harassment by security forces.^[11]

In October 2009, PEMRA directed 15 FM radio stations to stop carrying British Broadcasting Corporation programs for "violation of the terms and conditions of their license".^[12]

During 2010 journalists were killed and subjected to physical attack, harassment, intimidation, and other forms of pressure, including:^[6]

• On July 7, the Taliban threw a grenade at the home of Din News television reporter Imran Khan in Bajaur, FATA, injuring eight members of his family. He and his sister had been hospitalized earlier for injuries sustained in a kidnapping attempt.
• On July 22, Sarfraz Wistro, the chief reporter of the Daily Ibrat newspaper, was attacked and beaten unconscious by five men near his home in Hyderabad, Sindh.
• On September 4, Umar Cheema—the senior member of the investigation cell of a leading media group, The News—was abducted and taken to an unknown location, where he was blindfolded and beaten, had his hair shaved off his head, and was hung upside down and tortured. His abductors threatened more torture if "he didn't mend his ways" and told him the editor of investigations, Ansar Abbassi, would be next. He was dropped outside of Islamabad six hours later. Cheema went public with the abuse, and The News covered his abduction in detail in print, as did television channels. Police filed a case immediately against the accused, the government formed a joint investigation team to probe the incident, and the Lahore High Court took notice of the case. As of year's end, and after nearly four months of investigation, the team had not issued any conclusive findings.
• On September 14, journalist Misri Khan was killed in Hangu District, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, by militants from the TTP, who claimed that "he twisted facts whenever we gave him any reports" and "leaned towards the army."
• On September 16, journalist Mujeebur Rehman Saddiqui, a Daily Pakistan correspondent, was killed by gunmen in Dargai, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa.
• On November 18, the body of journalist Lala Hameed Baloch, who had been kidnapped in late October, was found along with the body of a second journalist, Hameed Ismail, with gunshot wounds outside of Turbat, Balochistan Province. Baloch's family, local journalists, and the Pakistan Federal Union of Journalists believed that he was seized by security officials and targeted for his political activism.

Internet[edit]

Main article: Internet censorship in Pakistan

Internet users in Pakistan are prompted with this message when accessing blocked websites.

The OpenNet Initiative listed Internet filtering in Pakistan as substantial in the social and conflict/security areas, as selective in the Internet tools area, and as suspected in the political area in December 2010.^[13]

In late 2010 Pakistanis enjoyed generally unimpeded access to most sexual, political, social, and religious content on the Internet. Although the Pakistani government does not employ a sophisticated blocking system, a limitation which has led to collateral blocks on entire domains such as Blogspot.com and YouTube.com, it continues to block websites containing content it considers to be blasphemous, anti-Islamic, or threatening to internal security. Pakistan has blocked access to websites critical of the government or the military.^[13]

Short Message Service[edit]

The Pakistan Telecommunications Authority required telecoms to filter Short Message Service (text messaging) for more than 1,000 offensive keywords from 21 November 2011.^[14][15] An unconfirmed list was leaked online and some of the innocuous keywords on the list was subjected to ridicule by Pakistanis.^[16]