Reflections on Journalism: An Interlude

In 2006, I was honored with the Alumni Achievement Award of Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism. My wife and several colleagues who worked with me in Africa nominated me. Our friend, Suzanne Daley, former Johannesburg correspondent for the New York Times and later National Editor, was my "presenter" at the awards ceremony at Columbia. I then delivered a short address, attempting to meet the requirement that: “At the ceremony, attendees are traditionally treated by recipients to inspirational remarks filled with humor, nostalgia, and insight into world affairs and the journalism profession.” Here now are my remarks:

Several years ago, while in Africa, I began toying with the idea of a book. The working title is “What They Never Taught Me in Journalism School: Reporting in the Real World.”

I went as far as coming up with chapter headings --- and I may still finish this project so please don’t get any ideas. But my introduction goes back to the origins of the J-School:

‘Joseph Pulitzer wrote in 1904 that “A journalist is the lookout on the ship of state.” But he never said anything about practical matters like where the lifejackets or lifeboats are. That’s why I’m here to help.’

I then go on in various sections to address some of the skills a real working journalist needs, starting with patience, and drawing on a saying I once was told in Kenya: ‘You Europeans have the watches, We Africans have the time.’ I get into the problem of bored border guards rooting through everything you have just because you and your things are a novelty, a diversion from the ordinary. And I include a tip on how to deflect the amorous interest of a border official who might want to know why a woman reporter you are traveling with is unmarried. For that it is helpful to put a high bride price on the female journalist. I once put a price of 15 camels on a colleague. Trust me, it was an outrageous sum --- and we were allowed to go on our way quickly.

There’s a tip in my unfinished book on how to cope at massacre sights, the perils of military press pools and a word to the wise to check the label of your bulletproof vest on its stopping power. My first one in Mogadishu, sent out by the home office, said --- and I quote --- “will not protect wearer against rifle fire or sharp objects” --- not particularly useful in a continent of AK-47’s and machetes.

For broadcasters, there is a section on the problem of recording sound at a distance --- like the night I tried to capture the audio of shelling and other gunfire in Rwanda, only to discover later that a cricket had been sitting near my microphone, occasionally chirping OVER the distant thud of mortars. We dubbed that one the Cricket that Ate Kigali.

I even have a section on ethics. Its title is “OSTRICH FEATHERS.” It involves the issue of gift-giving to get the cooperation of sources and notes there are places in the world where money is essentially useless and items like cigarettes unimpressive. Once such place is northern Kenya’s Turkana country. Fortunately I and some colleagues were traveling with a former British colonial officer who had packed along some ostrich feathers, an essential element for traditional Turkana ceremonies. We met two young herders who had only a half feather, black and borrowed. We gave them a whole nice new shiny white one and they practically keeled over in delight. In return I got a nice recording of them singing a praise song about their lead billy goat.

Actually this has less to do with ethics than observing that the best journalism comes from relishing moments like that --- and writing about them. One of my other proposed chapters underscores that by focusing on the “GOLD DIGGERS OF BUJUMBURA,” the capital of tiny Burundi in Central Africa, not known for its mineral riches.

One day, I noticed several men knee deep in water in a ditch by the side of a residential street. They appeared to be panning for gold, which struck me as improbable. So I asked my escort and he said that was indeed what they were doing. Seems the house next to the ditch was owned by a man who received smuggled raw gold from the Congo, did a rough smelt in his compound and some of the waste-water run-off contained flakes of gold.

Another such incident took place in Luanda, capital of the southwest African country of Angola. Returning from the airport late one day from a trip with some aid workers, I saw a body disappearing into a drain hole by the side of the road. One of the aid workers told me she had heard of a group of “sewer boys” living there who usually emerged at dawn.

So the next morning, a colleague and I were there and saw, as the sun came up, a head pop out of the hole, followed by two arms. Eventually a whole boy in tattered shorts and a filthy t-shirt emerged. Several other sleepy looking boys followed. They were the most pathetic street kids I had ever seen in Africa.

Regrettably I could only tell their story. But that is how correspondents try to make a difference.

Working for VOA may be virtually anonymous in this country but abroad it does occasionally mean a certain notoriety. The most bizarre form of recognition came one day in the mid-90’s while I was sitting in my office in Nairobi, Kenya.

The phone rang. On the line was a man who told me his name was … Alex Belida. Needless to say, I was shocked. After prodding he admitted his real name was Mesafint Beyene. He was an Ethiopian refugee. He said his nickname was Alex Belida, given to him by friends because he listened to the radio day and night --- and not just any radio. He listened to VOA and he especially liked to hear my voice.

I think I’ll find a special place for him in this book, if I ever write it.

While we might laugh about the notion of what they don’t teach you in journalism school, the things that really count about a journalism education are the big important issues --- like why we need watchdogs and the fundamental notion of the people’s right to information.

Around the world there are still places that do not honor that notion and there are millions who are eager to hear or read or see what in fact is going on. Those who work at VOA, the BBC and other international broadcasters know the power of information transmitted to a global audience --- as do those who still jam our signals and try to bloc access to our websites. We have a special responsibility to be scrupulous in working to put out news products that are beyond reproach.

That is what I remain focused on now and it is one reason why I have directed our newsroom staff to the Project for Excellence in Journalism, which is part of this school, and specifically to its book, "The Elements of Journalism.”

The book makes the following observation, which I consider particularly relevant: "Journalism provides something unique to a culture -- independent, reliable, accurate, and comprehensive information that citizens require to be free. A journalism that is asked to provide something other than that subverts democratic culture. This is what happens when governments control the news….”

The book refers to Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union but it could just as well refer to any number of countries today.

When one of VOA’s most respected news directors retired many years ago, he told the staff in a farewell message: "Remember you represent the American people and its free press." It’s something I continue to remind my colleagues: We must work to remain a model for responsible journalism, and I have asked them to remember the first words broadcast on VOA in 1942: "The news may be good. The news may be bad. We shall tell you the truth."

It was the right model then. It is the right model now. For all of us, wherever we work.