Behind the News: Voices from Goa\'s Press by Various
V >>
Various >> Behind the News: Voices from Goa\'s Press
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 | 6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14
To quite some extent the problem with contemporary
Goa's journalism is governments who don't like
criticism and therefore target certain newspapers or
journalists. But this is not the entire story.
Managements who seek to use their papers to get undue
favours, licences, or whatever are another part of the
problem. So are us journalists who don't carry on our
job neutrally and without quid-pro-quo motives. But the
editors who have long been acting as censors, and
implement the agendas of the first two categories
above, are also part of the problem. Unlike in the
'eighties, you can hardly expect an editor to stand up
for you in today's Goa.
Journalists in Goa are facing a situation where space
to write the truth is increasingly shrinking; and
editors, including Rajan, have also played their role
in making this happen. At another level, the State is
working overtime to incorporate journalists, promote
'friendly' publications and thus indulge in other means
to control opinion. While Rajan Narayan has undeniably
been one editor who was willing to say the things
others were simply not willing to say, this was done
not very consistently. Quite a few who worked under
Rajan would probably have their own story to tell. It
would really help if the average Goan was less gullible
and didn't judge issues along emotional lines alone.
The plus side also needs to be taken into the equation.
It was Rajan who pointed out to the importance of the
readership of government employees and pensioneers; to
the fact that international news needed to be focussed
on countries which Goa had long links with, or had
large Goan expat populations. He told his staff
something that seems to be beyond the comprehension of
many Goan editors: "There is also considerable interest
in Portugal. An election is scheduled in Portugal soon.
Let us keep track of the election and other
developments in Portugal."
(But one should not get misled into thinking that those
working under Rajan always had clear policy guidelines
to work under. Most of our time at least, policies were
based on whims and fancies, to gauge the rationale of
which often left one bewildered.)
He was also among those to try and shift out of the
protocol reporting -- an attitude which says 'this
report has to be there, because it has to be there' --
that journalism in a Navhind-defined Goa was notorious
for.
But then, implementing this vision was a problem. For
one, Rajan himself didn't consistently follow up on it.
Secondly, he didn't seem to believe in having competent
persons around him and preferred to work with someone
who was less likely to pose a challege in the years to
come. In addition, a considerable time was spent in
politcking, both within the organisation and beyond.
Working under Rajan meant coping with the unpredictable.
In many cases, Rajan didn't quite give other
journalists the impression that they were welcome to
contribute to the Herald. (As an aside, one of those
asked to contribute a chapter in this book, a senior
Goan journalist who has written for a number of
national and international publications, misunderstood
that the invite was to write for the Herald. The journo
simply wrote back a two-liner to declining saying that
apart from the lack of time, "Rajan won't accept my
name in his paper.")
In one of my freelance stints there, a curious case
pertained to a curious firm selling matresses at the
price of Rs 60,000 to a 100,000 and more. They claimed
all kinds of near-miraculous properties went along with
the matresses. Concerned citizens drew one's attention
to this issue, and after researching the issue, one
wrote one's report on the issue. Rajan was furious. He
accused this journalist of "not checking the other side
of the story". In reality, the firm refused to let
anyone come to their demos, unless they were duly
introduced by someone already caught in the
costly-matress trap. It later turned out that the
persons running the operations in Goa were linked to
the family of the publisher that brought out a magazine
Rajan had earlier worked for! When this issue was
raised during a recent journalist debate, Rajan
side-stepped it by raising the issue of whether one was
a staffer or freelancer while writing for the paper. He
generally confused the issue in some barely-relevant
detail, ignoring the questions of there was a clash of
interest in his role as editor here, as in many other
issues he has faced questions over.
Perhaps the most curious experience for this writer was
the one related to "Raul Gonsalves".
Sometime in the late 'nineties, a number of prominent
editors in Goa decided to impose a private 'ban' on the
writings of that abrasive but persistent letter-writer M.K.Jos
. Jos had the style of targetting editors and
journalists, which was obviously earning him
influential enemies. One may not be a fan of Jos, but
clearly a blanket ban on an individual is something
very unbecoming of a supposedly democratic society.
This writer's feature, focussing Jos with his plusses
and minuses, appeared in the weekend magazine section
of Herald, then looked after by Ethel da Costa.
Retribution was quick to come. A long piece was
published, in the same columns which this writer was a
contributor to, trying to drag this writer into a
fictitious controversy. It also sought to give a veiled
'warning' that anyone mentioning Jos could himself lend
in trouble. It later emerged that the article itself
was pseudonymously written by the editor of a rival
newspaper, claiming to be 'Raul Gonsalves'. Editorial
staff of the section confirmed that the contentious
article had been published at the behest of Rajan himself.
It could be argued that if Rajan has built a
larger-than-life image of himself, that has been
premises on the blocking out of a generation of young
journalists, whom he himself ironically had a hand in
creating. Today, Rajan's indespensibility to the Herald
stems from both a perception, not wholly true, that he
single-handedly built the paper, and the fact that
virtually nobody else in the organisation has been
trained or encouraged to write editorials.
To some measure, everyone who shares the above grouse
with this writer must be thankful to Rajan. Being
pushed out of local opportunity has helped many to get
access to wider fields. Today, Goan journalists are
employed in a number of places -- scattered across the
Gulf, to Singapore, Australia, Canada and beyond! Even
for those of us opting to remain back home, the hard
work involving in 'proving oneself' has helped to open
up new doors. Had it not been for such 'push' factors,
this writer would have probably been doing a boring job
just as a deputy news editor in some local newspaper.
Working in a Rajan-headed establishment also can cure
you of ambition. It was simply not worth the heart-burn
and infighting to rise to the level of a humble
chief-sub. This has helped convince this writer that
it's probably worth staying a humble correspondent --
possibly even freelance -- the rest of one's career,
rather than succumb to an ambition that takes
bitterness, rancour, cutthroat competition and so much
energy just to get a post in which one has to act more
as politician or manager rather than an effective
journalist?
Needless to say, on the other hand the younger
generation of journalists can indeed learn from some of
Rajan's good points. In many cases -- though not all --
he would be quick to highlight criticism of himself, in
the paper he headed. His ability to bestow confidence
on his juniors helped some to grow. (But, this was upto
a point. Also, his criticism and barrage of memos
seemed to be more linked to whether he liked someone or
not, rather than one's qualities and abilities to put
in hard work as a journalist.)
As for the writer of this chapter, one carried on
writing... and enjoying it immensely. But for most of
the past 20 years, that has been for an audience
largely outside the Herald. By some quirk of fate, one
managed to leave the Herald exactly after four years,
as planned. (Thanks to statehood, the Deccan Herald
decided to have it's first full-time staff
correspondent in Goa. Work on the news-desk was fast
ceasing to be a challenge, and the politics on the job
also made life difficult, even if the team that worked
there had a good team spirit and a youthful have-fun
attitude towards life.) Also, as planned, one put in a
two-line resignation letter.
As anticipated, my absence there was not viewed as a
loss; anyone who stayed on too long got the feeling he
or she was becoming a liability -- or that the law of
diminishing returns were applying. Whatever may have
been my failings, some of my colleagues pointed to the
fact that this writer was one of the few who had been
around from Day One, and was known for his attempts to
bring out a good product. Paste-up artists would
comment, "The day you leave, there will be a lot of
disappointment." I suffered from no such delusions. In
part, because nobody is indispensible. In greater part,
because one was aware of the attitude of Rajan Narayan
towards anyone who might one-day be competition.
Right I was. When I told Rajan of my decision, he had
just one question in mind: where are you going? On
being told that it was the Deccan Herald, a visible
sign of relief appeared on his brow. Not only was one
not joining the Gomantak Times, then viewed as the
looming-on-the horizon competition, but also another
journo was getting out of the way. Or at least, that
was how one intrepreted it.
Perhaps one was not wrong. Since then, one was at
Deccan Herald for the first seven years, a period
during which staffers were not officially allowed to
write for other publications. But, since 1995, when one
went into full-time freelancing, never did one feel
welcome to write for the Herald, whenever Rajan Narayan
was around. On the contrary, doing this would make one
feel like an encroacher or illegal alien overstaying
his welcome at a place not wanted.
At one stage, Rajan Narayan went for his lengthy
treatment, leaving behind no editorials for the paper.
Having never apparently encouraged anyone to rise to
the task of writing editorials, he apparently often
used this as his bargaining chip (as has happened
recently). Unlike in other papers, where the
middle-level journalists write the editorial, here the
space was very much Rajan's fiefdom. Being into
freelancing, and wanting to take up the challenge, one
wrote a set of 50 or so editorials during one of his
periods of extended absences during the 'nineties. This
was done at the request of the newspaper management,
and the staff apparently appreciated the move. Yet, on
his return, and probably realising that churning out
this many pieces -- that too, all on issues related to
Goa -- could be done by someone else too, Rajan went on
to write his editorial which claimed "friends in Goa and
Bombay are eager to bury me..." . Or something to that
effect. The "friend' in Bombay was, one guesses, Alwyn
Fernandes, a former Times of India journalist, who at
one stage was actively considering taking over the
editorship of the Herald.
(At a later tenure, after the Herald faced a crisis
when chief reporter Julio Da Silva suddenly opted for
contesting an assembly election on a BJP ticket, rather
than staying on in journalism. Since one had turned to
freelancing, contributing to a local daily sounded a
good idea. This continued for some time, till, again,
Rajan Narayan's return resulted in getting the feeling
of being unwanted.)
At the end of the day -- though nobody should try to
write a premature obit for his influence on Goan
journalism -- Rajan will probably be known for what he
has written. Not for what he made sure didn't surface.
In this context, it is perhaps important to put down
these perspectives on the record, so that the future
could have other views from which to judge contemporary
journalism in Goa.
Chapter 8:
Rural Goa, unheard, unsung...
Melvyn S. MisquitaMelvyn S Misquita represents a trend among some of the
younger journalists -- well-educated (he holds two M.A.
degrees), Net-savvy, and eager to extend the boundaries
of journalism in Goa should be looking at, apart from
just the Secretariat. Recently, his work made it to the
news in a major way, when the Indian Express carried a
large spread in its national-edition on how Misquita
had traced the strange story of the sinking of a World
War II British passenger liner, BritanniaIII, which had
dozens of Goans (including one of Misquita's
grand-uncle's) on board.
If my entry into journalism was accidental, working
with rural correspondents in Goa was equally
unexpected. One morning of May 1998, then editor of the
Gomantak Times, Ashwin Tombat, asked me to handle local
correspondents who were contributing to the newspaper.
He assured me that correspondents were an integral part
of the newspaper and, that, a strong network would play
a vital role in strengthening the newspaper.
While Tombat's ability to put forth persuasive
arguments eventually convinced me to accept this task,
I was determined not to remain 'stuck' with
correspondents for long. There were many reasons for
this. Firstly, working with correspondents invariably
meant that one would end up merely re-writing their
stories and would not have much time to work on my own
stories. And with barely two years of journalism under
my belt, there was no way I would allow my ambition be
condemned to the mere restoration of correspondents'
news items.
Secondly, co-ordinating with correspondents involved
vast amounts of patience, as each correspondent had to
be handled differently. Moreover, since most were
part-time correspondents and could devote only a few
hours to the profession, I could only expect them to
function for a brief part of the day. Then again, these
correspondents were based in different parts of the
state and my interaction with them was largely
dependent on telephones and other means of remote communication.
The correspondents were certainly happy to have me
around, as till then their complaints seemed endless.
"Our stories don't appear promptly in the newspaper
and, sometimes, they don't appear at all. People in our
locality then get upset and complain that we are not
sending in their stories," was a commonly echoed
grievance. "No one attends to our telephone calls and,
when they do, they keep transferring our calls from one
person to another and they finally disconnect the
phone," was another general complaint.
Their complaints certainly had some degree of
legitimacy.
It is a common perception -- especially among
English-language newspapers in the state -- that correspondents
are third-class passengers, who deserve little or no
decent treatment. Let me cite two instances to prove
this point. In one English-language newspaper, a
correspondent sent me a crime report, which, under
normal circumstances, should have been carried the next
day. To my surprise, the report was not published for
the next two days. The correspondent called me and
sought an explanation for the delay. Unable to give him
a suitable reply, I transferred the call to the
concerned sub-editor, who simply snapped back and
insisted that the correspondent need not bother about
his report and, that, the report would appear only when
there space was available in the paper!
Some time ago, a Vasco-based couple died in a road
mishap in Porvorim and the correspondent promptly sent
in the report. The next morning, I was taken aback to
find the item in a single column, virtually hidden in
the section for continued items on Page 4.
Incidentally, the distribution of saplings by an MLA
not only merited a double-column spread, but also a
decent photograph -- ironically, just alongside the
news item reporting the tragic deaths. The sub-editor's
reply, like his news sense, left me baffled. "So what?
So many people die almost everyday. What was so special
about these deaths?" Unfortunately, the sub-editor
failed to acknowledge the fact that the same news item
was prominently displayed in the other two
English-language newspapers.
A former colleague once aptly described such an
attitude as "'news sense' value which gets transformed
into 'nuisance value'."
In most cases, those serving on the news desk in
English-language papers have never worked as rural
correspondents and are, hence, unable, or in some cases
unwilling, to understand the intricacies of collecting
and sending news items. Confined to the four walls of
the newspaper office, some members of the news desk
play a role similar to that of a cook in the kitchen;
while rural correspondents are the waiters who have to
constantly interact either with an unhappy customer or,
in some cases, a satisfied customer. The news desk
essentially plays a vital role in the making or
breaking of a story sent by rural correspondents.
But then, the news desk is faced with pressures of a
different kind, which are not always understood by
rural correspondents, based as they are in remote
corners of Goa, who rarely witnessed the hectic
activity at the news desk, moments before the deadline.
On numerous occasions, news items placed on the page
had to be removed at the last moment to accommodate
late advertisements. As such, rural reports, no matter
how essential, simply couldn't find the space in newspaper.
Moreover, many correspondents are convinced that their
news items are more important than the others, so much
so that they cannot bear to find their reports delayed
even by a day. Quite often, their unhappiness over the
delay in printing their reports would become more vocal
with each passing day and, invariably, I became their
punching bag. This was largely because some of the
rural correspondents are considered important members
of the public in their locality and, at times, their
prestige and financial gains in journalism would often
be at stake with a delayed publication of their reports.
It must be admitted that over the years, journalism has
been turned into a prestigious and lucrative part-time
option for many of the rural correspondents. A few
years ago, a former editor mentioned to me that he was
on a trip to a remote village in Goa, when he decided
to attend a function in the locality. The place was
packed to capacity and he was forced to stand behind
occupied chairs. To his surprise, the chief guest
happened to be the local correspondent of his own newspaper!
This enthusiasm towards 'extra-curricular' activities
sometimes translates into political affiliation. In a
recent event which established the BJP-journo nexus in
Sanguem, a correspondent with a Marathi newspaper and
member of the Sanguem Patrakar Sangh was been
unanimously elected president of the Sanguem Unit of
the BJP. Similarly, the president of the Sanguem
Patrakar Sangh and a correspondent with an
English-language newspaper, was appointed the BJP booth
president of Tarimol-Sanguem. In most cases, reports
sent by correspondents to the news desk, in the past,
specially when there was no one in particular to look
after this responsibility, simply lacked form and
content. Illegible words either scribbled on scraps of
paper or sent as distorted faxed messages were among
the most popular methods deployed to communicate their
reports. In some cases, only a skilled pharmacist could
decipher the words used by some correspondents. Under
such conditions, the sub-editor assigned to such
reports had the arduous task of converting them into
decent stories. Quite often, the easiest way out would
be to forward the raw report to the dust bin. A
sub-editor flooded with such reports and working under
pressure would invariably exercise this option with
considerable frequency.
Then in June 1998, it was my turn to handle the
correspondent network under the fancy and wordy
designation of "Chief of News Bureau". In reality, I
had to play God in the laboratory. This meant
subjecting numerous correspondent reports to various
quality control tests each day and, in some cases,
creating sense from nonsense, before they were ready to
be read by thousands of readers in and around Goa.
Under such circumstances, I had anticipated that my
association with correspondents would not to last long,
that is, if I wanted to maintain my sanity in the
profession.
But this was not meant to be.
The days turned to weeks, months and eventually years.
And, before I knew it, my interaction with rural
correspondents went on to complete half a decade. I
have since handled thousands of reports either sent to
me through post, fax, emails or even dictated over the
phone. In most cases, the reports may have initially
appeared trivial or insignificant, but a little
refinement and some cut-paste commands have succeeded
in giving a new look to the report. And with
encouraging results.
In a recent case, the Pernem correspondent sent me a
report on action initiated by the local health
authorities, in view of the outbreak of viral hepatitis
in the state. In the second last paragraph of his
report was a mention that the authorities had decided
to shut down the Pernem police station canteen for
operating under 'unhygienic conditions'. In my view,
this was most significant and I refined the story with
this angle as the lead. Taking cue from the news item,
the Director General of Police issued a memo to the
Pernem police inspector, seeking an explanation for the
unhygienic conditions in the police canteen.
Incidentally, Herald was the only English-language
daily to carry this report.
Over the years, I have not only succeeded in building
up my tolerance level to the specific demands of
correspondents, I have also learnt to appreciate the
crucial role of those eyes and ears spread all over the
state. This experience has led me to believe that a
local newspaper which ignores rural news content will
be as effective as an orchestra playing music before a
deaf audience.
While there is consensus on the value of local news
content, the importance of rural correspondents has not
always been appreciated by the powers that be in the
newspaper. A correspondent is often treated like the
spare wheel of a vehicle, detachable and to be ignored
under normal circumstances. The merit is only
recognised in times of emergency, when a big story
breaks out in areas represented by correspondents. Then
too, it is a common trend that newspapers would prefer
to send its full-fledged staffers, often from Panjim,
instead of relying on part-time rural correspondents,
to cover the event. This is not to suggest that
full-fledged staffers have no right to tresspass on the
territory of correspondents, as it were. Rather, a
staffer would benefit a great deal by utilising the
expertise and local knowledge of a rural correspondent
to ensure an effective story.
To cite an example, a staffer was recently asked to
interview noted people in connection with a prominent
cultural festival in a village. The staffer was unaware
that the same festival is celebrated separately by two
groups in the village and, that, the article would need
to carry the comments of people from both groups.
Instead of seeking the assistance of a correspondent
from the area, the staffer went ahead and interviewed
five persons from the village. Eventually, the staffer
realised that four persons interviewed represented one
group, while the sole personality interviewed from the
other group went on to criticise his own group! The
article was published and the damage was done.
Organisers of the second group were aggrieved and
threatened to withdraw advertisements to the newspaper.
The issue was finally resolved when the local
correspondent carried a series of reports to clarify
the position of the organisers of the second group. Had
the staffer sought the assistence of the local
correspondent, the issue would never have been blown
out of proportion.
Then again, the 'who-has-written' preference over the
'what-has-been-written' has plagued many
English-language newspapers and this has largely
contributed to the 'City-Centric Syndrome'. There have
been instances to suggest that a news report filed by a
staffer has been accorded more prominence -- both in
space and display -- than a report sent by a rural
correspondent. Recently, tension flared up along the Tuyem
-Camurlim ferry route, after the river navigation
department wanted to shift the lone ferry to Tar-Siolim
for the five-day Ganesh immersion ceremony. An MLA,
sarpanchas of two village panchayats and over angry 200
people prevented the movement of the ferry. The
correspondent promptly sent the report and the item
could only find place in the lower portion of page 7,
normally reserved for routine and unimportant news items.
The controversy then erupted again for the nine-day
Ganesh immersion ceremony, when authorities finally
shifted the lone ferry from the Tuyem-Camurlim route to
Siolim. Commuters were unhappy to travel by the free
canoe service, while those travelling in vehicles were
forced to take a lengthy detour. On the other hand,
people in Siolim had the luxury of a ferry to assist
them in a religious ceremony. The correspondent sent me
the report but, this time, the item was published on
page 4, normally reserved for stories which have been
continued from page 1. Incidentally, six of the eight
news items which appeared on page 3 -- the most popular
'inside' page for Goa news -- were Margao-based news
items. "At least, you people carried the ferry story. I
sent the same story to my newspaper. But I did not find
my story anywhere in the paper the next day," remarked
an unhappy correspondent of another newspaper.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 | 6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14