It doesn’t make much difference if it was hostage diplomacy or old-school press trampling — or, as now seems clear, the tit-for-tat response to the detention of an Iranian in Italy. He, it turns out, was accused of supplying drone technology that killed US troops. But whatever the cause, the outcome was the same: Cecilia Sala, a 29-year-old reporter with Il Foglio, was detained in Tehran’s Evin Prison for over a fortnight, before finally being freed this week. Her stay can’t have been pleasant. From beatings to rape, the high-security jail has become a byword for the most brutal transgressions governments can conjure, and is infamous for hosting a bewildering range of Iranian artists, writers and academics.
When Sala was first arrested, the Iranian authorities could only offer a bland statement that she had “violated the laws of the Islamic Republic.” In the past, they would have trotted out the usual accusations, of espionage and conspiracies to overthrow the system. This time around, though, the judiciary assured the world that it was meticulously examining the Italian’s case — and her release came soon after.
“She gave voice to Iranian women fighting against the obligation to wear the veil, of course, but also to members of the establishment,” says Luciana Borsatti, the former ANSA bureau chief in Tehran, noting that Sala also interviewed figures like Hossein Kanani Moghaddam, one of the founders of the Revolutionary Guards. But Sala’s coverage of Iran was notably subtle: it gave voice to those Iranians who oppose the current system but also reject the kinds of strict sanctions encouraged in the diaspora. She was eager to report fairly on Iran, and had been accused by hardcore exiles of not being sufficiently critical of the regime. Yet even she found herself detained, held in solitary confinement over Christmas.
In theory, the Islamic Republic’s constitution protects free expression. Borrowed from the French Fifth Republic, it states that nobody should be interrogated for holding an opinion, that nobody can be deprived of the right to peaceful assembly, and that journalists are free to publish materials unless they threaten the tenets of Islam or violate public rights. Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei said in 2018 that whoever claims they’re discriminated for their views is just “lying” — a shameless lie in itself, but revealing about the way the prickly way the regime deals with criticism.
Nor does the Islamic Republic seem much more self-confident when it comes to foreign journalists. Granted visas lasting a mere eight days, even as they’re subject to strict surveillance, the best most correspondents can do is report on what they see. There’s certainly plenty to cover. Inflation is skyrocketing and people cannot afford groceries. Iran is sitting on the second largest natural gas reserves in the world, but can’t heat up people’s homes. In a country where the number of female university students has long surpassed that of their male counterparts, women are still being dragged through the streets, and verbally abused for strands of hair sticking out their headscarves.
For describing all this, Sala found herself in jail, even as unabashed anti-regime activists can apparently outwit the intelligence services with ease. One excellent example here is Catherine Perez-Shakdam, a French Jew who posed as a friend of the Islamic Republic before securing an audience with the ayatollah himself. It all speaks to the essentially arbitrary nature of reporting in Iran — foreign correspondents have little idea whether they’ll make it home safe, let alone secure a decent scoop for their troubles. That’s even as reporters risk becoming pawns in broader geopolitical games. As Sala discovered, she was detained in Iran for hijinks in Milan: not because of anything she actually did, but because of the flag on her passport.
So why do reporters come? Part of the answer surely involves basic journalistic principles of honesty and truth. For Sala herself, an attachment to Iran clearly matters too — even if not everyone is quite so thoughtful. The truth is that much foreign journalism on Iran condemns the country to stereotype. Much outside reporting is so cliched, in fact, that millions of Westerners were lately astounded to discover that, far from being an Arabian Nights fantasy, it actually snows in Iran. If you ask Iranians, they’ll acknowledge having long felt dehumanised that a country they cherish, for its heritage, arts, culture and food, is merely framed as a vast missile factory, where people wake up fantasising about yellow cake and go to bed dreaming of enriched uranium.
These challenges aside, it’s testament to the strength of feeling here that even foreigners caught up in Iran’s capricious security state want reporting to continue: albeit with proper safeguards. Kylie Moore-Gilbert, formerly a University of Melbourne lecturer, was invited to visit Iran in 2018. She was there to attend a conference, but soon found herself arrested and imprisoned for over two years. Despite her experiences, Moore-Gilbert is forthright. “There is no substitute for in-depth, on-the-ground coverage,” she tells me. “I do not believe any journalist can truly understand a country or its people if reporting only from abroad.”
So how can Iran’s story be told? Perhaps local journalists could take up the slack: some routine reporting on human rights or the economy could be done by Iranians themselves, but published by media organisations abroad anonymously. But it’s not that simple. Moore-Gilbert puts it this way: “I think there is a real risk that the chilling effect of Cecilia and other journalists’ arrests inside Iran will lead to less informed coverage on this country at a critical time in the country’s domestic and global political standing.”
It’s a fair point. After the Sala fiasco, foreign correspondents encouraged to visit Iran after the election of the centrist President Masoud Pezeshkian may reconsider their plans. Journalist colleagues in Europe and America have said as much. One French friend said she dreamt of living in Tehran, but has to forget that now. Another contact, a British charity worker, says it’s a shame she can visit every country in the region: except Iran.
There is no easy solution here. The people of Iran are condescendingly told, both by the international community and their fellow Iranians in exile, that they should keep fighting for their freedoms. I doubt courageous young Iranians would disagree — it’s just a shame a dwindling number of Western journalists are willing to write by their sides.
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Source: UnHerd Read the original article here: https://unherd.com/