I don't often get the chance to
say this, so I'll seize the opportunity when it presents itself: I am proud to
call myself a journalist.
Why this week of all weeks?
Because if it hadn't been for journalists -- and one journalist in particular,
of whom more later -- the vast, stinking edifice that is FIFA would still be
intact, sitting undisturbed atop foundations built of bribes and kick-backs. And
Sepp Blatter would still be its absolute ruler.
Perhaps you don't care about
FIFA. Perhaps you've never watched a football match. But if you're a taxpayer
in any of the countries that have ever bid to host the World Cup, then some of
your hard-earned cash has ended up in the pockets of deeply corrupt officials.
Allegedly.
If it hadn't been for journalists
-- and one journalist in particular -- reporters on certain mass market
newspapers would still be illegally accessing other people's voicemail
messages.
Global corporations would still
be happily paying negligible amounts of tax into the UK exchequer, and HSBC
would still be merrily helping its richest clients to hide their cash from the
taxman. The US intelligence services would still be gaily hoovering up phone
calls, text messages and emails with little or no legal authority, and MPs
would still be fiddling their expenses.
And -- here's the point -- if it
hadn't been for dogged, skilled and above all brave journalists, we'd have
known nothing about any of it.
Given that journalism so often
gets a bad press (how does that work, I wonder?), we need occasionally to say
what needs saying: Without journalists, the world would be in even worse shape
than it is.
The stench of corruption has surrounded
FIFA for decades. Many reporters over the years have tried to expose the truth,
but one in particular has been reponsible for shining a spotlight into its
darkest corners. His name is Andrew Jennings, described in the Washington Post
this week as a "71-year-old curmudgeonly investigative reporter".
According to the Post, the FBI
first approached Jennings six years ago to ask for his assistence with their
inquiries -- and he handed over the pile of documents he'd acquired to help
them on their way. He is not a man to mince words about the men he's had in his
sights for so long: “I know that they are criminal scum, and I’ve known it for
years … These scum have stolen the people’s sport. They’ve stolen it, the
cynical thieving bastards. So, yes, it’s nice to see the fear on their faces.”
I knew Jennings slightly in the
1980s, when he was reporting from Thailand on murky goings-on close to the
border with Burma. I was news editor at The Observer at the time, and I quickly
developed a deep admiration for his doggedness and courage.
It is easy to under-estimate the
importance of courage when it comes to revealing the truth about people who
don't want the truth to be revealed. Brave reporters need brave editors to back
them up; and brave editors need brave proprietors to withstand pressure from
advertisers and shareholders.
Consider this passage from Hack Attack, the book by Nick Davies of The Guardian in which he describes his
years-long investigation into phone-hacking. After his first revelations saw
the light of day, both News International and Scotland Yard issued categorical
denials.
"Like a malignant cell, a
horrible thought silently formed itself -- I had screwed up. I'd got the story
wrong -- a big story, that had gone round the world, that had had politicians
and public figures standing up on their back legs shouting for action. And it
was wrong, or maybe it was wrong, or I couldn't be sure, but if it was wrong --
on that kind of scale -- [Guardian editor Alan] Rusbridger and I really were in
a deep pit of foul-smelling trouble."
(As we now know, of course, the
story wasn't wrong. The News of the World was shut down, and several of its
journalists were convicted and jailed. Several thousand people are now believed
to have had their phone messages illegally hacked into.)
Last night, I was at an event at
which the annual Charles Wheeler award for an outstanding contribution to
broadcast journalism, sponsored by the British Journalism Review and the
University of Westminster, was presented to Alex Crawford of Sky News. (Previous
recipients include Jeremy Bowen, Lindsey Hilsum, Allan Little, Jon Snow and,
ahem, me.)
Alex has courage by the
bucket-load, having reported from places like Libya, Liberia, Tunisia and Mali
in the most dangerous of circumstances. If it weren't for her work, and the
work of many other fearless journalists, on air, in print and online, we would
know far less about the world we live in.
We need people like Alex
Crawford, Nick Davies and Andrew Jennings. We need to celebrate their work and recognise
the contribution they make. Especially in the same week that a former editor of
the News of the World, Andy Coulson, who spent seven months in jail for his
role in the phone hacking scandal, was found not guilty of perjury in a
Scottish court because, as the judge so neatly put it: "Not every lie
amounts to perjury."
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