Guilty of journalism

AS a journalist making a living solely in the industry, the challenging times confronting the profession are rarely far from one’s mind. Navel-gazing has become more than a side distraction in some ways. No wonder then that a new book on the industry by a stalwart, Mazhar Abbas, was on the must-read list.

He has been active in both journalism and the trade union politics of media organisations; Abbas is someone who many in my generation look up to for being among the few who have been able to do both journalism and its politics proficiently and with integrity. None of this is insignificant. Since the proliferation of electronic media, union politics has rarely attracted journalists of stature.

It is worth asking at this stage whether he is one of the last Mohicans. His latest book, Media Under the Shadow of Death, covers a wide range of issues — from the origins of the unions formed in the early years of a fledgling country to issues the industry grapples with today: censorship, violence against journalists, and the challenges of technology.

For someone like myself who isn’t very well-versed in the history of union politics, the historical account in the early chapters of the book is a fascinating description of how the Sindh Union of Journalists and the Pakistan Federal Union of Journalists (PFUJ) came into being, and how journalists pushed back against the earlier undemocratic efforts of the state of Pakistan. Beyond the events themselves, discussions with people such as Roedad Khan also offer insight into the ruling elite’s thinking at the time and their attitudes towards democracy and press freedom.

At the same time, this earlier period also reveals how far back some unfortunate trends go. Even then, journalists’ biases against one another, or in favour of one political stakeholder over another, allowed the state or government to take advantage. The principles of democracy or freedom of expression never proved bigger than personal likes or dislikes.

He, too, quotes the famous story of journalists who went to Gen Ziaul Haq and asked him to delay the elections for fear of a PPP victory. In recent times, one has seen media groups attack each other at the behest of the powers that be. The second pattern, which seems to date back further than we realise, is the inability of media owners to match journalists in opposing the state’s suppressive methods; the latter’s decision to sign a code of conduct during the emergency imposed by Gen Pervez Musharraf is a case in point. But there are no sweeping judgements, as the financial pressures on the media owners and their limitations are also understood by the author.

‘Media Under the Shadow of Death’ documents the key challenges in Pakistani journalism.

The strongest part is perhaps the account of the media under Musharraf. This is partly because it’s a recent period when Pakistan’s media flourished and expanded but also faced challenges, including increased violence against journalists as well as events such as the emergency.

The latter happened when the author himself was an elected official of the PFUJ and was organising protests against the dictator’s actions. For those of us who were present at the time — in the trenches or on the sidelines — those were heady times. It seemed then that the political parties, lawyers’ organisations, journalists, and others could push back against a military dictator struggling to sustain his rule. No one thought this was simply a transitory moment; it seemed like a permanent change — though we have grown wiser since. But back then, it was a moment of great hope, and the PFUJ’s role was significant. Even now, reading about it brings a sense of satisfaction.

As the author himself notes, it was perhaps the last time the federation acted with unity. However, he doesn’t go into the details of what happened later, or how the organisation not only split but has also become a shadow of its former self since then. With his intimate knowledge of union issues, Abbas could have provided an insight into the present mess in journalistic organisations and perhaps kick-started a debate on possible solutions. This omission is disappointing in some ways.

The second strongest part of the book is the section where he discusses the killings of journalists, though given the number of case studies, not each case is tackled with an even hand. Some are detailed and some sketchy. However, the more high-profile the case, the more interesting the details — though they still leave one wanting more. This is especially true of cases such as Wali Babar’s, where Abbas provides the details of the deaths that followed the investigations of the journalist’s murder — police officers investigating the case, the prosecutor, and even witnesses were killed as the matter progressed. Similarly, the book details high-profile cases (Hayatullah Khan, Musa Khankhel, Arshad Sharif) as well as low-profile ones that may not have garnered much attention.

Overall, the book is a resource compendium rather than a chronological or analytical account. There are historical accounts — a chapter on press laws and then one on the case studies of journalists’ killings. This also means the book’s tone is a wee uneven.

Perhaps, as the author says at the outset, the book kept getting delayed because of the fast-changing events in the industry and the polity. This might also explain why the writing and editing needed a bit more work. One can only hope some of these issues are addressed in a second edition if there is to be one — for the information in the book is valuable and deserves to be read by those who still haven’t fallen out of love with this profession despite the filth we wallow in these days.

The writer is a journalist.

Published in Dawn, November 3rd, 2026