Journalism is becoming increasingly difficult in Russia

The state’s repressive apparatus of courts, cops and investigators are now openly directed against independent journalists, writes Oliver Carroll

Russian President Vladimir Putin (Sputnik)

The news from Russia last week: two more opposition media sites close under pressure from the Kremlin; police raid the homes of a prominent investigative journalist and his parents; a leading editor flees Russia; scores more are branded “foreign agents”. And that’s only seven days of headlines.

Russia has long been hostile to journalists. Since the fall of the Soviet Union, those in power have killed, frustrated, closed down and stood in the way of the truth. But the glib reports that regularly claimed Russian journalism was also all but dead were greatly exaggerated. For a few years in the mid-2000s, I saw the profession from the inside as an editor for the Russian version of Esquire. I witnessed first-hand the brilliance, perseverance and energy of local journalists – taking any knockback as a new challenge.

We were generally allowed to print what we wanted, which we did with abandon. Fast forward to 2021 and the pressure facing the media is of a different order – to the point that talk of the end of Russian journalism is not quite the glib exaggeration it once was. The state’s repressive apparatus of courts, cops and investigators are now openly directed against independent journalists. They face a Goliath battle to survive.

At the weekend, Taisiya Bekbulatova, the editor of Kholod, an outstanding independent publication specialising in reportage, identified one way of fighting back. Only bad things could result from silence, Bekbulatova reasoned, so journalists should shout out their stories using the hashtag #zapreshchennayaprofessiya or #forbiddenprofession.

Dozens have already done so. The posts, which talk about hopes and growing disappointments of those in the trade, are often hard to read. Here is one fairly typical extract: “The journalists I was inspired by are no longer. Some are dead, and will never write again. [Other] friends and former colleagues are jobless and are banned from the profession. They don’t know what to do and I don’t know how to help.”

Clearly, Russia is no country to hold blind faith. The fate of its journalism will still largely depend on decisions made by grey men in suits at security council meetings every Friday. But the elegance of an action like this is such that it reminds everyone about the central role journalists play in any civilised society. Perhaps, just perhaps, that might help spark a rethink before it’s too late.

Yours,

Oliver Carroll

Moscow correspondent