The Media Column: 'Remember the local staff who make war reporting possible'
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Your support makes all the difference.This column is for the unsung heroes of war journalism: the local drivers, fixers and translators who make it possible for correspondents from Western news organisations to gain access and understanding they could not otherwise obtain. It is dedicated to men such as Kamaran Abdurazaq Mohamed, the 25-year-old Kurdish translator who was killed on Sunday while assisting the BBC's John Simpson.
These people do not possess passports that will take them to safety when the world's interest wanes. They never get bylines, nor do they make appearances on screen. Their assistance to Western journalists can make them unpopular in their home countries and attract unwanted attention to their families.
My heroes include Viorel Buligan, the Romanian student who guided me through the streets of Timisoara in December 1989, while the Securitate were still shooting; Walid Abu Zeid, a Palestinian who risked the ire of Iraqi forces and Kuwaitis alike to show me southern Iraq in 1991; Dusan, my Serbian guide in Belgrade; and the Albanian who knew the location of every Yugoslav checkpoint on the edge of Pristina.
To the global travellers who fly in to add glamour to major crises, such people are invaluable. They can translate documents and interviews. Their knowledge of local geography enables them to reach sites the authorities prefer to keep hidden. Their knowledge of local bureaucracy saves hours and sometimes lives. But their employment is temporary, often informal and usually more risky than the role played by those who hire them.
Until the 1990s, few news organisations acknowledged their existence. Correspondents were given cash, usually dollars or marks, and told to negotiate daily rates supplemented by cigarettes. Insurance cover was non-existent. So was the protective clothing considered mandatory by Western personnel managers.
Things have improved. Now, giants such as CNN and the BBC acknowledge the value of "local hires". Chris Cramer, president of international networks at CNN, says they play "an important part in CNN's ability to produce the numerous services that it does. They bring a professional and cultural mix to our operation and are treated the same as CNN staff while they are employed by us."
The BBC expresses similar gratitude. An executive there says, "Anyone who works as a locally hired translator or fixer now has a piece of paper that acknowledges that they are working for the BBC. These people are vital and essential. We rely on their local knowledge and their language skills."
That much is true, but it does not begin to convey equality of status; nor does the protection endure when staff correspondents have left. An example from Iraq illustrates the point. Last week, the prize-winning Iranian photo-journalist Kaveh Golestan, who was working for the BBC, was killed by a landmine in Kifri, in Kurdish-controlled northern Iraq.
Golestan was under contract to the British broadcaster. His death was marked with obituaries and due praise for his skill and dedication. Nobody could deserve it more. Close by when Golestan was killed was the BBC's local translator, Rebeen Azad. Azad behaved with calm and judgement in the aftermath of the tragedy. I know that, because the veteran BBC correspondent Jim Muir, who led the excursion on which Golestan was killed, said so in his appreciation of Golestan. Few others made any mention of Azad.
They rarely do. Local hires were killed in Vietnam, Somalia, Bosnia, Kosovo and virtually every other conflict of the past 50 years. They are hardly mentioned in the countries where the news coverage they facilitate is published or transmitted. It was not Simpson's fault, but a minor injury to the BBC's world affairs editor was deemed more newsworthy in Britain than the death of his translator.
Next time you nod in appreciation at a story that enhances your understanding of a foreign war, spare a thought for the local staff who have made it possible. They have found the information, located the interviewees and translated the testimony. They do it because they believe passionately in the value of a free press. And remember that, if they survive, they will still be there, battling to cope with the consequences, when the star names are hiring new help on a different continent or telling tales of daring to excited colleagues in wine bars. Behind many stars of war journalism there is a local hero who stands no chance of promotion or a pay rise when the news agenda moves on.
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