PUTIN'S ALLIES
May 03, 2024
By Andy Heil
Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor
Orban: hiding behind the flag?
It's a naked truth of today's Hungary that tangling with Prime Minister Viktor Orban’s political machine risks leaving journalists dangerously exposed.
No state support or public ad revenues. Little or no facetime with even lowly ruling Fidesz party officials. And, now, no way to avoid fears that a new and seemingly unaccountable bully institution is breathing down their necks.
World Press Freedom Day 2024
To mark World Press Freedom Day on May 3, RFE/RL has prepared the following stories about the status of press freedom in our broadcast area:
It's a naked truth of today's Hungary that tangling with Prime Minister Viktor Orban’s political machine risks leaving journalists dangerously exposed.
No state support or public ad revenues. Little or no facetime with even lowly ruling Fidesz party officials. And, now, no way to avoid fears that a new and seemingly unaccountable bully institution is breathing down their necks.
World Press Freedom Day 2024
To mark World Press Freedom Day on May 3, RFE/RL has prepared the following stories about the status of press freedom in our broadcast area:
A dizzying array of plucky independent news providers has arisen in response the 14-year supermajority in parliament that has allowed Orban and his Fidesz allies to govern with little oversight while consolidating the media sector in friendly hands. But the advent in February of the Sovereignty Protection Office has presented them with a fresh, and perhaps existential, challenge.
Its creation has been challenged by the European Commission and criticized by the United States, and its activities were blasted by the Council of Europe's Venice Commission as "not subject to any State oversight" and with "absolute -- and unchecked -- discretion" to defend an ill-defined national interest that is anyways already safeguarded.
Legal scholars and political analysts warn it is "the tip of the iceberg" of "regime preservation" and evidence of Orban's increasingly autocratic effort to "create a perfect setting of intimidation."
The only confirmed target so far of Sovereignty Protection Office President Tamas Lanczi is Peter Magyar, a whistle-blowing politician whose surprise defection in March shook Fidesz and energized Orban's detractors ahead of next month's municipal and European Parliamentary elections.
But no sooner had Magyar been tarred with Lanczi's brush than one of Hungary's most influential and hard-hitting independent media outlets came under similar suspicion, under assault by a pro-government attack-dog institution called the Civil Solidarity Foundation-Civil Solidarity Forum (COF-COKA).
At a press conference in mid-April that was well-attended by state and other friendly media, COF-COKA shared its dim view of investigative news nonprofit Atlatsz's Ki Mit Tud? (Who Knows What?) project, a portal that has facilitated tens of thousands of freedom-of-information requests for Hungarians seeking answers from public institutions.
The group accused Atlatszo of "distracting" state employees and wasting public money. It questioned the FOI requests' effectiveness and said they "mostly serve the interests of opposition parties." Crucially, it appealed to Lanczi's office "to deal with this phenomenon," citing Alatszo's use of "funds coming from abroad" and alleged "espionage," in part because findings by Ki Mit Tud? are "made available for browsing by anyone…[and] can even serve foreign interests."
It also underscored the threat from Orban's frequently invoked nemesis, billionaire George Soros, the subject of a notorious "Soros mercenaries" list for which ex-editor Lanczi's former publication was eventually forced to apologize.
"Our work can in no way be taken as an attack but according to our convictions," COF-COKA said, adding that pursuant to its self-appointed "watchdog" role, it had created an "NGO-Locator" to track and counter Atlatszo's project. COF-COKA also said it would be watching a handful of other NGOs that it said were unfairly "hunting" politicians and private individuals.
Atlatszo founder Tamas Bodoky and his editors had picked up independent Hungarian journalism's biggest annual prize, the Hungarian Press Award, just a month earlier.
Peter Uj, editor in chief of independent news outlet 444.hu, called the award a recognition of Atlatszo's dedication to "successfully and self-sacrificingly carr[ying] out the social task it has undertaken, setting an example not only for the post-democracy press, but also for the post-democracy citizenry."
Tamas Bodoky (second from left) and Atlatszo.hu staffers receive the National Association of Hungarian Journalists' annual Press Award in March 2024.
Speaking to RFE/RL weeks later, Bodoky described routinely fending off more than a year of accusations and threats from COF-COKA that he dismissed as "complete bullshit conspiracy theories" aimed at discrediting Atlatszo. He noted Atlatszo reporting in the past that labeled COF-COKA as a "public money magnet" and tied it to tens of millions in taxpayer-funded contracts.
The Sovereignty Protection Act empowers Lanczi to unleash the intelligence services to spy on just about anyone he chooses, with no obligation to notify those individuals or entities.
Bodoky said last week that Atlatszo had received no notification, "so we don't know."
"[But] when this pro-government NGO says something, it isn't accidental," he said. "This is something the government wants to hear." Bodoky called COF-COKA's statements "a propaganda opening to signal an investigation into free media organizations and others" in hopes of whippping up "popular demand" for such an investigation.
"We're living in constant fear of if or when these propaganda attacks will turn into official investigations and harassment," he said.
Whether or not the Fidesz-controlled intelligence services are investigating, the intended impact of the COF-COKA's widely circulated accusations seems clear. Bodoky says it invariably chips away at readership among pro-government Hungarians, discourages potential sources from talking to Atlatszo, inspires public organizations to "blacklist" it and withhold information, and "makes us think twice before applying for a grant about how this will be framed in the propaganda media."
Independent Hungarian journalists and outside experts quickly recognized the potential threat to a free press of the Sovereignty Protection Act that Fidesz lawmakers rushed through parliament in November-December, creating the office.
Once COF-COKA launched its assault, a number of other independent news outlets came out in support of Atlatszo, saying in an open letter that "oppressive powers have tried many times to banish Hungarian journalism to nothingness forever, but as the recognition of Atlatszo shows: this never succeeded."
"I do think it's visible that the law and processes are being 'tested' right now," Blanka Zoldi, a signatory and editor in chief at Lakmusz (Litmus), a fact-checking platform for "disinformation stakeholders" that is partly funded by the European Union, told RFE/RL via e-mail.
Hungary's independent-minded journalists have proved resilient and creative in response to official marginalization and shoestring budgets. Their influence was on full display in February when President Katalin Novak was forced to resign after 444.hu unearthed a court ruling showing she’d pardoned an accessory to child sex abuse thanks to a tip from "one of our readers."
Atlatszo is funded about equally between crowdfunding and projects and grants from outside groups including Soros's Open Society Foundations, the European Union, the London-based Sigrid Rausing Trust, the Netherlands-based Limelight Foundation, and the U.S. National Endowment for Democracy -- all of which it publicly acknowledges.
It made its name on tough reporting that spared neither political left nor right, documenting abuse and police brutality as leftist Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsany clung to power in the 2000s and a decade later chronicling Orban and his governing elites' use of private planes and luxury yachts for soccer matches, vacations, and meetings abroad.
Andras Kadar is a lawyer and co-chair of the Hungarian Helsinki Committee, one of the country's oldest and most influential human rights groups. He said his organization, which along with Globsec, Tasz, and K-Monitor was one of the four other entities put on notice by COF-COKA in April, called the allegations against Atlatszo "absolutely ridiculous" and "a very typical tool of the illiberal regime."
He also said he was confident that Atlatszo "will not change its modus operandi as a result of the attacks, and trust that no other independent media outlets and journalists will do so either."
"They have been doing a crucial job in a very hostile environment for quite a long time now," Kadar told RFE/RL, "but cases like that of the presidential pardoning scandal have shown that even under such difficult conditions, their work can have tremendous impact."
Speaking to RFE/RL weeks later, Bodoky described routinely fending off more than a year of accusations and threats from COF-COKA that he dismissed as "complete bullshit conspiracy theories" aimed at discrediting Atlatszo. He noted Atlatszo reporting in the past that labeled COF-COKA as a "public money magnet" and tied it to tens of millions in taxpayer-funded contracts.
The Sovereignty Protection Act empowers Lanczi to unleash the intelligence services to spy on just about anyone he chooses, with no obligation to notify those individuals or entities.
Bodoky said last week that Atlatszo had received no notification, "so we don't know."
"[But] when this pro-government NGO says something, it isn't accidental," he said. "This is something the government wants to hear." Bodoky called COF-COKA's statements "a propaganda opening to signal an investigation into free media organizations and others" in hopes of whippping up "popular demand" for such an investigation.
"We're living in constant fear of if or when these propaganda attacks will turn into official investigations and harassment," he said.
Whether or not the Fidesz-controlled intelligence services are investigating, the intended impact of the COF-COKA's widely circulated accusations seems clear. Bodoky says it invariably chips away at readership among pro-government Hungarians, discourages potential sources from talking to Atlatszo, inspires public organizations to "blacklist" it and withhold information, and "makes us think twice before applying for a grant about how this will be framed in the propaganda media."
Independent Hungarian journalists and outside experts quickly recognized the potential threat to a free press of the Sovereignty Protection Act that Fidesz lawmakers rushed through parliament in November-December, creating the office.
Once COF-COKA launched its assault, a number of other independent news outlets came out in support of Atlatszo, saying in an open letter that "oppressive powers have tried many times to banish Hungarian journalism to nothingness forever, but as the recognition of Atlatszo shows: this never succeeded."
"I do think it's visible that the law and processes are being 'tested' right now," Blanka Zoldi, a signatory and editor in chief at Lakmusz (Litmus), a fact-checking platform for "disinformation stakeholders" that is partly funded by the European Union, told RFE/RL via e-mail.
Hungary's independent-minded journalists have proved resilient and creative in response to official marginalization and shoestring budgets. Their influence was on full display in February when President Katalin Novak was forced to resign after 444.hu unearthed a court ruling showing she’d pardoned an accessory to child sex abuse thanks to a tip from "one of our readers."
Atlatszo is funded about equally between crowdfunding and projects and grants from outside groups including Soros's Open Society Foundations, the European Union, the London-based Sigrid Rausing Trust, the Netherlands-based Limelight Foundation, and the U.S. National Endowment for Democracy -- all of which it publicly acknowledges.
It made its name on tough reporting that spared neither political left nor right, documenting abuse and police brutality as leftist Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsany clung to power in the 2000s and a decade later chronicling Orban and his governing elites' use of private planes and luxury yachts for soccer matches, vacations, and meetings abroad.
Andras Kadar is a lawyer and co-chair of the Hungarian Helsinki Committee, one of the country's oldest and most influential human rights groups. He said his organization, which along with Globsec, Tasz, and K-Monitor was one of the four other entities put on notice by COF-COKA in April, called the allegations against Atlatszo "absolutely ridiculous" and "a very typical tool of the illiberal regime."
He also said he was confident that Atlatszo "will not change its modus operandi as a result of the attacks, and trust that no other independent media outlets and journalists will do so either."
"They have been doing a crucial job in a very hostile environment for quite a long time now," Kadar told RFE/RL, "but cases like that of the presidential pardoning scandal have shown that even under such difficult conditions, their work can have tremendous impact."
Andy Heil is a Prague-based senior correspondent covering central and southeastern Europe and the North Caucasus, and occasionally science and the environment. Before joining RFE/RL in 2001, he was a longtime reporter and editor of business, economic, and political news in Central Europe, including for the Prague Business Journal, Reuters, Oxford Analytica, and Acquisitions Monthly, and a freelance contributor to the Christian Science Monitor, Respekt, and Tyden.
HeilA@rferl.org
The Human Cost Of Dismantling Belarus's Independent Media
May 03, 2024
By RFE/RL's Belarus Service and
Robert Coalson
"I decided I could not agree with this," she told RFE/RL. "I understood that I would not be able to work as a journalist in Belarus."
"Journalism is a profession that normal people do not leave," she said, fighting back tears. "Such people feel passionately about what they do, because nothing gives such meaning as journalism."
After a massive wave of pro-democracy protests in 2020 following a disputed election that handed strongman leader Alyaksandr Lukashenka a sixth presidential term, the government unleashed sweeping repressions that have utterly transformed the already authoritarian country.
Opposition politicians, civil-society activists, and independent journalists have been systematically persecuted. Many have been imprisoned. Many others have been forced to flee their homeland.
Belarus ranks 157th out of 180 countries on press freedoms, according to Reporters Without Borders, which called it "Europe's most dangerous country for journalists until Russia's invasion of Ukraine."
According to the Belarusian Association of Journalists, 37 media employees are currently in custody, including several prominent editors of once-respected outlets that have since been shut down. That includes RFE/RL journalist Ihar Losik who, in December 2021, was given the longest sentence -- 15 years in prison on charges of "organizing mass riots" and "inciting social enmity." RFE/RL, along with press freedom advocates, have called the charges absurd.
Belarus "has one of the most repressive media climates in the world," Free Press Unlimited, a nongovernmental organization, said.
"With nearly all independent media being banned, websites blocked and/or declared as 'extremist,' which in turn makes following or sharing them punishable by law, the Belarusian media landscape is one of the most restrictive in the world," the group said.
Written by Robert Coalson based on reporting by RFE/RL's Belarus Service
Robert Coalson is a senior correspondent for RFE/RL who covers Russia, the Balkans, and Eastern Europe.
May 03, 2024
By RFE/RL's Belarus Service and
Robert Coalson
Journalists in Minsk protest against the detention of their colleagues in September 2020.
Nastassya worked as a journalist in Belarus for 15 years until 2022, when the media outlet where she worked agreed to comply with the government's demand that Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine be called not a "war," but a "special military operation."
Nastassya worked as a journalist in Belarus for 15 years until 2022, when the media outlet where she worked agreed to comply with the government's demand that Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine be called not a "war," but a "special military operation."
"I decided I could not agree with this," she told RFE/RL. "I understood that I would not be able to work as a journalist in Belarus."
"Journalism is a profession that normal people do not leave," she said, fighting back tears. "Such people feel passionately about what they do, because nothing gives such meaning as journalism."
After a massive wave of pro-democracy protests in 2020 following a disputed election that handed strongman leader Alyaksandr Lukashenka a sixth presidential term, the government unleashed sweeping repressions that have utterly transformed the already authoritarian country.
Opposition politicians, civil-society activists, and independent journalists have been systematically persecuted. Many have been imprisoned. Many others have been forced to flee their homeland.
Belarus ranks 157th out of 180 countries on press freedoms, according to Reporters Without Borders, which called it "Europe's most dangerous country for journalists until Russia's invasion of Ukraine."
According to the Belarusian Association of Journalists, 37 media employees are currently in custody, including several prominent editors of once-respected outlets that have since been shut down. That includes RFE/RL journalist Ihar Losik who, in December 2021, was given the longest sentence -- 15 years in prison on charges of "organizing mass riots" and "inciting social enmity." RFE/RL, along with press freedom advocates, have called the charges absurd.
Belarus "has one of the most repressive media climates in the world," Free Press Unlimited, a nongovernmental organization, said.
"With nearly all independent media being banned, websites blocked and/or declared as 'extremist,' which in turn makes following or sharing them punishable by law, the Belarusian media landscape is one of the most restrictive in the world," the group said.
RFE/RL journalist Ihar Losik (file photo)
"The main source of danger for media professionals in Belarus are the authorities, the police and the courts," the group said.
Nastassya and the other former journalists interviewed for this story asked that their identities be concealed out of concern for their safety and that of their relatives in Belarus.
Even before she resigned, the writing had been on the wall since May 2021, Nastassya says, when the authorities launched an effort to silence Tut.by, the country's most popular news portal.
In January 2023, after 19 months in pretrial detention, the website's chief editor, Maryna Zolatava, and General Director Lyudmila Chekina were both sentenced to 12 years in prison on various charges including "harming the national security of the Republic of Belarus."
"The main source of danger for media professionals in Belarus are the authorities, the police and the courts," the group said.
Nastassya and the other former journalists interviewed for this story asked that their identities be concealed out of concern for their safety and that of their relatives in Belarus.
Even before she resigned, the writing had been on the wall since May 2021, Nastassya says, when the authorities launched an effort to silence Tut.by, the country's most popular news portal.
In January 2023, after 19 months in pretrial detention, the website's chief editor, Maryna Zolatava, and General Director Lyudmila Chekina were both sentenced to 12 years in prison on various charges including "harming the national security of the Republic of Belarus."
Tut.by journalists Maryna Zolatava (left) and Lyudmila Chekina appear in a Minsk court in March 2023.
At the time, Nastassya recalls, there was little outcry over the case from a public that was already worn down by the government's brutality.
She had always felt journalism was "a contract" between the journalist and society and that "society, if necessary, would defend the interests of people who worked as journalists."
The Crisis In Belarus
Read our coverage as Belarusian strongman Alyaksandr Lukashenka continues his brutal crackdown on NGOs, activists, and independent media following the August 2020 presidential election.
"But it became clear that we had no contract with society," she said, "and that everyone was on their own."
After leaving journalism, Nastassya began working as a copywriter in advertising and marketing. "It was my most difficult decision," she said through tears, although she earns much more than she ever did as a journalist.
Nastassya says she consumes less media than before, saying that the unwillingness of people to speak on the record has eroded the quality of reporting. Belarusian media in exile have limited ability to report on developments in the country, she says, and increasingly reprint items from state media or focus their reporting on Belarusians in emigration.
"It isn’t their fault," she added. "Such are the circumstances. I am proud of them all and very grateful to everyone who remains in the profession. I understand how difficult it is today."
"For me, they are heroes," she said, noting that journalists working from abroad risk the safety of their relatives in Belarus, who could have their property confiscated or worse.
The Survivor
In his former life, Uladzimer was a news photographer for Tut.by. His last day as a journalist came on May 18, 2021, when the website was shut down.
Initially he considered continuing to work as a photographer, doing commercial work or wedding photography. But he knew he wouldn't enjoy such work.
He sold his cameras and his car and never looked back. He now works as a long-haul trucker.
"I have never had so much money," he said of his salary of some 2,500 euros ($2,700) a month. "Journalists [in Belarus] don't earn anything like that."
The switch took Uladzimer entirely out of his comfort zone and it took him a tough six months to get used to his new life on the road, travelling throughout Europe and living permanently outside of Belarus.
Leaving journalism has meant a complete change of lifestyle for Uladzimer. All his possessions now fit in two or three bags stashed in the cab of his truck. Mostly, he says, he enjoys not looking twice at the price of everything he wants to buy.
"I feel like a person," he said. "If I want something, I buy it. Luckily, I don't want a lot of things. But I can just go into a store and buy what I want."
At the time, Nastassya recalls, there was little outcry over the case from a public that was already worn down by the government's brutality.
She had always felt journalism was "a contract" between the journalist and society and that "society, if necessary, would defend the interests of people who worked as journalists."
The Crisis In Belarus
Read our coverage as Belarusian strongman Alyaksandr Lukashenka continues his brutal crackdown on NGOs, activists, and independent media following the August 2020 presidential election.
"But it became clear that we had no contract with society," she said, "and that everyone was on their own."
After leaving journalism, Nastassya began working as a copywriter in advertising and marketing. "It was my most difficult decision," she said through tears, although she earns much more than she ever did as a journalist.
Nastassya says she consumes less media than before, saying that the unwillingness of people to speak on the record has eroded the quality of reporting. Belarusian media in exile have limited ability to report on developments in the country, she says, and increasingly reprint items from state media or focus their reporting on Belarusians in emigration.
"It isn’t their fault," she added. "Such are the circumstances. I am proud of them all and very grateful to everyone who remains in the profession. I understand how difficult it is today."
"For me, they are heroes," she said, noting that journalists working from abroad risk the safety of their relatives in Belarus, who could have their property confiscated or worse.
The Survivor
In his former life, Uladzimer was a news photographer for Tut.by. His last day as a journalist came on May 18, 2021, when the website was shut down.
Initially he considered continuing to work as a photographer, doing commercial work or wedding photography. But he knew he wouldn't enjoy such work.
He sold his cameras and his car and never looked back. He now works as a long-haul trucker.
"I have never had so much money," he said of his salary of some 2,500 euros ($2,700) a month. "Journalists [in Belarus] don't earn anything like that."
The switch took Uladzimer entirely out of his comfort zone and it took him a tough six months to get used to his new life on the road, travelling throughout Europe and living permanently outside of Belarus.
Leaving journalism has meant a complete change of lifestyle for Uladzimer. All his possessions now fit in two or three bags stashed in the cab of his truck. Mostly, he says, he enjoys not looking twice at the price of everything he wants to buy.
"I feel like a person," he said. "If I want something, I buy it. Luckily, I don't want a lot of things. But I can just go into a store and buy what I want."
The Minsk bureau of RFE/RL was closed and sealed by the Belarusian government in July 2021.
He says he doesn't miss Belarus and the tumultuous events there. He consciously chose to be "a survivor," he said, rather than a hero in prison.
'A Dream Job'
Ksenia worked as news photographer for a decade. She left the country amid the government crackdown on independent media. Since moving abroad, she has survived mostly doing whatever freelance photography she can get.
"Emigres don't turn down offers," she said. "There aren't so many of them."
Over the last few years, she has drifted away from journalism, both as a professional and as a consumer. She subscribes to a few Belarusian news channels on social media, but finds herself reading them less and less.
She says she was alarmed by the culture of fear in her homeland: friends refuse to respond to messages from her and other journalists out of fear for their safety.
He says he doesn't miss Belarus and the tumultuous events there. He consciously chose to be "a survivor," he said, rather than a hero in prison.
'A Dream Job'
Ksenia worked as news photographer for a decade. She left the country amid the government crackdown on independent media. Since moving abroad, she has survived mostly doing whatever freelance photography she can get.
"Emigres don't turn down offers," she said. "There aren't so many of them."
Over the last few years, she has drifted away from journalism, both as a professional and as a consumer. She subscribes to a few Belarusian news channels on social media, but finds herself reading them less and less.
She says she was alarmed by the culture of fear in her homeland: friends refuse to respond to messages from her and other journalists out of fear for their safety.
A protest in support of Belarusian journalists in Minsk in September 2020
Ksenia says she also worries about her unwitting role in Lukashenka's crackdown. She knows that photographs taken during the 2020 demonstrations were scanned and scoured by security agents to identify people for possible persecution.
Now, many newspaper stories featuring anonymous sources are accompanied by photographs with blurred faces and written by journalists who conceal their names.
"Will we someday find out that a journalist sat down and invented a text entirely?" she asked. "I hope not."
Nonetheless, Ksenia says she hopes to return to journalism someday.
"It is a dream job," she said. "Yes, it is difficult. But you do something different every day and you have access that you would not have in other professions. You never know where you might end up."
"I remember the events in Belarus [in 2020]," she added. "I remember where I was and I think, 'Wow. I went through that.'"
Ksenia says she also worries about her unwitting role in Lukashenka's crackdown. She knows that photographs taken during the 2020 demonstrations were scanned and scoured by security agents to identify people for possible persecution.
Now, many newspaper stories featuring anonymous sources are accompanied by photographs with blurred faces and written by journalists who conceal their names.
"Will we someday find out that a journalist sat down and invented a text entirely?" she asked. "I hope not."
Nonetheless, Ksenia says she hopes to return to journalism someday.
"It is a dream job," she said. "Yes, it is difficult. But you do something different every day and you have access that you would not have in other professions. You never know where you might end up."
"I remember the events in Belarus [in 2020]," she added. "I remember where I was and I think, 'Wow. I went through that.'"
Written by Robert Coalson based on reporting by RFE/RL's Belarus Service
RFE/RL's Belarus Service is one of the leading providers of news and analysis to Belarusian audiences in their own language. It is a bulwark against pervasive Russian propaganda and defies the government’s virtual monopoly on domestic broadcast media.
Robert Coalson is a senior correspondent for RFE/RL who covers Russia, the Balkans, and Eastern Europe.
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