The thin red line

The dust has not fully settled in Delhi over the bizarre case of leaked e-mails from a former cop — there are 22,000 of them — who once worked with Essar.

The e-mails have — no doubt — come as a shock to a city grappling with a strange theft of documents from ministries by errand boys who copied the papers at break-neck speed, as if hundreds were waiting for such supplies the next morning. No one checked them, not even burly gunmen from the Central Industrial Security Force (CISF) whose only job is to guard all government offices from any intruders.

The leaked e-mails surfaced a fortnight after the paper scandal rattled Delhi.

Almost instantly, three senior journalists lost their jobs, some editors resigned later and there are chances many others could be named and shamed if more e-mails emerge as proof that journalists took freebies — jobs for friends, high-end cellular handsets, car rentals and cocktail lunches — from Corporate India. There is, I am told, a list of 19 journalists in circulation. Some even argue it is 17. 

In rumour-filled Delhi, it is common knowledge now that the former cop, who once worked with Essar, was trying hard to blackmail big bosses of the conglomerate, even sending a few journalists to — brazenly — walk up the stairs of Essar House near the expansive Mahalaxmi Race Course to demand ransom cash. When it failed, he found the easiest way to tar his former employer: he made the mails public.

Worried journalists in the Indian Capital — who once enjoyed their John Wayne gun-slinging moment and benefited during festive seasons like Dusherra and Diwali with gifts ranging from California almonds to Belgium glasses to bottles of single malt — are now debating life’s biggest issue at the city’s numerous coffee shops and watering holes: How much of bad is bad? 

At the centre of the crisis are those who lost their jobs — Sandeep Bamzai, editor of Mail Today, Anupama Airy, energy editor of Hindustan Times and Meetu Jain, a senior reporter with Times Now — for seeking vehicles for personal use. They were all fired without being probed whether the favour they took actually translated into writing “soft articles” about Essar. In short, it is clear that the Essar e-mail leak was a case of selective outrage followed by a knee-jerk reaction. There is also an emerging consensus in the city that the terminations were hasty and unfortunate.

The issue was further stoked by a passionate letter written to her editor, Sanjoy Narayan by Airy, a top energy writer who recently signed a deal to write a book on the slugfest between the Ambani brothers over sharing of gas from the Krishna Godavari basin. A balanced reporter, Airy wanted to know the “definition of my crime”. She had asked for a vehicle to help a family friend who couldn’t get a cab during Delhi’s busy marriage season. Airy said it was not “exactly a favour” and even argued she never covered Essar’s telecom or coal operations. Airy also asked if she could raise cash from energy giants for annual events of Hindustan Times, a job certainly not part of her KRA. Then how come she is being penalised for seeking a car?

Worse, don’t State-owned companies offer fancy gifts to journalists; does not the PMO offer Black Label whisky, Pink champagne, Huntley Palmer biscuits and Dunhill cigarettes to journalists accompanying the Prime Minister abroad? So why blame Essar?

Airy’s letter definitely merits a second look, especially portions where she said if she could raise cash for Hindustan Times events, help editors with bulk book purchase by corporate giants and find jobs for colleague’s family members, then what was wrong in seeking a vehicle for a friend?

In short, Airy was — probably — asking why the morality stick was used against the media. She found support from many, who cited the 2003 incident when the New York Times — with concrete evidence in hand — printed a three-page apology when its reporter Jayson Blair was charged with plagiarism and fabrication.

But it did not happen in India. Look at the media’s predicament. The issue — the second scandal to hit journalists after the Radia tapes — has still not been seriously discussed by media houses, except some issuing circulars banning reporters on assignment from using corporate cars or those from communications agencies. Politicians named in the PIL — including those who enjoyed a yacht ride in the French Riviera — have defended their act, including the ride and writing letters, recommending people for jobs.

But, sadly, it seemed many in Delhi were debating the interplay of equations between the corporate sector and the media, especially around the time when some of India’s biggest media houses had investments from the corporate sector through complex transactions. There were others, the holy cows of the market, almost hinting that every reporter in the city was on the payroll of the corporate sector and peddling their agendas. The critics forgot that in India, the thin red line between editorial and non-editorial is — actually — blurred. In fact, each compliment the other.

It happens because newspapers are heavily subsidised, offered — mostly — at rates lower than Rs10 a copy despite high printing costs ranging from Rs18-35 a copy. In India, salaries constitute only 17-22%  of the average revenue of the newspapers, with 70% spent on buying newsprint. Television news channels are launched with loads of fanfare, without judicious funding in news-gathering expenses. As a result, these heavily subsidised news organisations — lacking capital or intellect to pursue the truth — demand a high price from working journalists. 

If editors and owners remain beneficiaries of this greater corporate interplay with the media, how would gullible reporters know where to draw the line? Unless of course, someone re-draws the Thin Red Line, ending Indian journalism’s second sleepless moment. 

The writer is the India Editor for Central European News