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September 26, 2008 A large photo of
President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali smiled
assuredly from the whitewashed façade of Sfax
Prison, where Slim Boukhdhir was serving a
one-year jail term. Officially, the
37-year-old journalist was behind bars for
insulting a police officer at a checkpoint in
Sfax, Tunisia’s second largest city. But in
the Orwellian reality of this sunny North
African nation, Boukhdhir’s incarceration had
little to do with disrespecting police and
everything to do with offending the man in the
photo.
Boukhdhir, a one-time arts and culture writer
with the pro-government press, did what few
Tunisian journalists dare: He criticized Ben
Ali and his family members, who dominate
political and economic life in Tunisia, a
Mediterranean country of 10 million.
Boukhdhir’s freelance pieces, published online
and for foreign publications, accused Ben Ali
of nepotism such as funneling state money to a
private school run by a niece. Boukhdhir
quickly attracted the attention of the
authorities. He was dismissed from his day job
at the newspaper Akhbar al-Jumhuriyya under
government pressure, was refused a passport,
and on one occasion was assaulted by secret
police in downtown Tunis shortly after writing
an online piece criticizing the business
practices of Ben Ali’s son-in-law. Undeterred,
Boukhdhir kept writing.
So, in November 2007, the Ben Ali government
sent him a stronger message. As the journalist
headed from Sfax to Tunis after being told he
could at last collect his passport, police
stopped his cab outside the city and ordered
him out of the car. The officers accused
Boukhdhir of insulting them—a charge the
writer vigorously denied—and then took him to
a police station where they punched him
repeatedly in the head and accused him of
being an American agent, the journalist told
CPJ.
The government said Boukhdhir’s arrest had
nothing to do with journalism. A week later,
after a farcical trial, he was convicted of
“insulting a public employee” and refusing to
hand over identification to a police officer.
A witness told Boukhdhir’s family that police
falsified his statements to incriminate the
journalist. The judge at Boukhdhir’s trial
prohibited the government’s witnesses from
being cross-examined. The one-year sentence
was not only the maximum allowed by law, it
was unheard of for such an offense, defense
lawyers said.
“They sent him to prison in order to terrorize
him,” said human rights lawyer Mohammed Abbou,
himself jailed in 2005 for online articles
criticizing Ben Ali. Following an intensive
international campaign by journalists and
press freedom groups, including CPJ, Tunisian
authorities released Boukhdhir in July, citing
good behavior, but his imprisonment
illustrates the harsh and elaborate measures
Tunisia’s government uses to stifle media
dissent while trying to insulate itself from
international criticism.
Known across the world for its stunning
beaches and tourist locales, Tunisia quietly
operates a police state at home. The print
press does not criticize the president and is
largely paralyzed by self-censorship. The few
critical voices who do write on the Internet,
for foreign publications, and for
low-circulation opposition weeklies are
regularly harassed and marginalized by the
Tunisian authorities.
Tunisia’s press code outlines an array of
coverage restrictions—including outright bans
on offending the president, disturbing public
order, and publishing what the government
deems “false news.” While such laws have been
used to prosecute journalists over the years,
authorities prefer to use more subtle tactics
to keep those voices in check, a CPJ
investigation found. They control the
registration of print media and licensing of
broadcasters, refusing permission to critical
outlets. They control the distribution of
government subsidies and public sector
advertising, thus wielding an economic weapon.
Outspoken newspapers are subject to
confiscation by police. Critical online news
sites, those belonging to international rights
groups, and the popular video-sharing site
YouTube are blocked by the government.
Independent journalists, some of whom double
as human rights activists, have also been
targets of harassment. Their phone lines are
cut, they receive anonymous threats, they are
placed under police surveillance, they are
denied the right to travel outside the
country, and even their movements inside the
country have been curtailed. Those who exceed
the authorities’ acceptable boundaries for
criticism are targeted with harsher measures
such as imprisonment or violent attack. In one
notorious 2005 case, Christophe Boltanski of
the French daily Libération was pepper
sprayed, beaten, and stabbed by four
unidentified men in the highly patrolled
diplomatic quarter of Tunis. The attack came
just days before a U.N.-sponsored summit on
the Internet—and right after Boltanski wrote
an article describing persecution of human
rights activists. In strikingly similar
circumstances, Tunisian journalist Riad Ben
Fadhel was wounded in a 2000 drive-by shooting
outside his home in Carthage—a spot within
miles of the presidential palace, one of the
most secure areas in the country. Days before,
he had written an article for Le Monde urging
Ben Ali to step down after his term expired.
Tunisia and Morocco have jailed more
journalists than any other nation in the Arab
world since 2002. Tunisian authorities have
used charges unrelated to journalism as a way
to protect themselves from international
scrutiny. (Such charges extend beyond
journalism. In February, authorities
imprisoned comedian Hedi Ould Baballah on what
were widely viewed as trumped-up drug charges
after he imitated Ben Ali in an unflattering
skit.) “There are a lot of invisible, indirect
pressures,” said one veteran Tunisian
journalism teacher, who spoke only on
condition of anonymity. “There are no official
orders to close papers down or jail
journalists. But you ask yourself, where is
the independent press?”
Internationally, the government employs an
aggressive public relations strategy. The
regime provides expense-paid junkets to
regional journalists to cover official events
such as the annual commemoration of the
November 1987 coup that brought Ben Ali to
power, journalists told CPJ. The Cairo-based
Arab Network for Human Rights Information (ANHRI)
reported in 2007 that Egyptian journalists
were paid to produce stories praising Ben
Ali’s “democratic reforms” and “leadership
skills.”
Authorities aggressively counter criticism at
international forums by recruiting “spoilers.”
In September 2007, one such group sought to
dominate the discussion at a Johns Hopkins
University event featuring journalist and
human rights activist Sihem Bensedrine. When
criticism is published in international
newspapers, government spokespeople respond
swiftly. “Since President Ben Ali"s accession
to power in 1987, Tunisia has implemented a
progressive but irreversible reform process
aiming at anchoring democracy, strengthening
the rule of law, and promoting and protecting
human rights,” wrote Taoufik Chebbi, press
counselor to the Tunisian embassy in
Washington, in a letter to the St. Paul
Pioneer Press that followed a CPJ account of
press freedom abuses. Chebbi said reforms have
“spectacularly changed” the political
landscape.
Those changes, however, do not include direct
engagement with those critical of the
government’s record. Top officials, from Prime
Minister Mohamed Ghannouchi to Interior
Minister Rafik Belhaj Kacem, ignored numerous
requests from CPJ to meet in Tunisia in June
and July to discuss press freedom abuses.
Seen as a bulwark against Islamist militancy
in North Africa, Ben Ali enjoys strong
relations with the United States and Europe.
The U.S. State Department and President George
W. Bush have occasionally taken the government
to task for its human rights record, but
Tunisia is a trusted partner in the U.S. war
on terrorism and has impressed U.S. supporters
with its economic growth, support for women"s
rights, and political stability. Many of its
U.S. supporters are members of Congress,
particularly those serving on the recently
formed Tunisia Caucus, which is tasked with
boosting bilateral relations. The Tunisian
government regularly welcomes Congressional
delegations to the sunny capital of Tunis. As
members of Congress push for closer
U.S.-Tunisian ties, they typically remain
silent about Tunisia"s poor human rights and
press freedom record while allowing Tunisia’s
state-controlled press to exploit their visits
for propaganda.
In the latest example, U.S. Rep. Betty
McCollum, a Democrat from Minnesota, praised
Tunisia during a July visit as a “voice of
moderation and wisdom in the world,” a
statement that was trumpeted in the
pro-government press. Tunisian journalists and
analysts say this type of political support is
the foreign assistance the regime wants most.
(In a piece published on The Hill Web site,
McCollum said she spoke privately with human
rights groups but her trip focused “on
security cooperation and counterterrorism.”)
Tunisia’s ties with France, its leading trade
partner, run deeper still. Like predecessor
Jacques Chirac, French President Nicolas
Sarkozy has warm relations with Ben Ali,
declaring during an April visit to Tunis: “In
a country where I come as a friend and I am
received as a friend, I do not see why I would
take it upon myself to give lessons.” Although
the European Union occasionally criticizes
Tunisia on human rights, its political and
economic interests override concerns about the
government’s human rights abuses.
Today, many of Tunisia’s skilled journalists
lament the sorry state of their profession,
noting the gap between their country and
neighbors such as Algeria and Morocco, where a
vocal press has taken hold despite severe
government repression. In several cases
documented by CPJ, prominent Tunisian
journalists have left the country to find work
with international news organizations.
“They used to assassinate journalists in
Algeria, but in Tunisia they murdered the
profession,” said Taoufik Ben Brik, a
48-year-old independent journalist, referring
to a murderous campaign by armed groups in
Algeria in the 1990s. A harsh critic of Ben
Ali, Ben Brik now writes for international
news outlets.
It was only over the last four years that Slim
Boukhdhir, once a veteran of the
pro-government press, turned a critical eye
toward the Ben Ali administration. By the time
he was jailed, Boukhdhir was writing several
times a week for officially banned Web sites
such as the popular Tunisnews, and
occasionally for the opposition weekly Al-Mawkif
and the London-based daily Al-Quds al-Arabi.
“Slim represents what they are afraid of,”
said long-time independent journalist Neziha
Rejiba. “He went from being an ordinary
journalist in Tunisia to an independent one.
What happened to him is a way [for the
government] to teach others.”
Ben Ali has honed this containment strategy
over two decades. The modern republic of
Tunisia has known only two presidents since
its independence from France in 1956. Habib
Bourguiba, the nationalist hero and “president
for life,” led Tunisia’s modernization and
development over the course of 31 years. Under
his autocratic hand, the country was hardly a
liberal democracy, but he did permit a modest
amount of political discourse in opposition
and independent newspapers. As Bourguiba’s
leadership became more erratic in his final
years in power, the leeway for critical debate
shrank as closings and censorship of
newspapers grew.
When then-Prime Minister Ben Ali deposed
Bourguiba, Tunisians felt a sense of optimism
as political prisoners were freed and
elections were promised. “From 1987 to 1989
there was a kind of [political] spring in
Tunisia,” said Rachid Kechana, the editor of
Tunisia’s opposition weekly newspaper Al-Mawkif.
“There were elections coming up and people
thought they were experiencing pluralism. But
it was a deception. After this, the state
became more authoritarian and the press was
the first casualty.”
Ben Ali cracked down first on Islamist
opposition and then on anyone who disagreed
with the regime. Critical independent and
opposition newspapers such as Le Maghreb,
Badil, and the Islamist weekly Al-Fajr were
shuttered outright or forced to close under
government pressure. The publisher of Al-Rai,
for example, closed the independent weekly
under pressure after Rejiba wrote a column
questioning Ben Ali’s political skills and
expressing doubts about his democratic
intentions.
Ben Ali’s government has largely succeeded in
taking the life out of the country’s
journalism. The mainstream print press is
dominated by pro-government publications that
offer fawning coverage of Ben Ali, praising
him as an architect of change and a promoter
of liberty. A 2007 U.S. State Department
report found that even nominally private media
take direction from senior government
officials and that “all media were subject to
significant governmental pressure over subject
matter.” Front pages feature a daily photo of
a beneficent Ben Ali, sometimes meeting with a
foreign dignitary and sometimes simply in
portrait. The inside pages are heavy with
social news and sports. The occasional
criticism is general and avoids mentioning
officials by name or faulting government
policies. In June, as Tunisians in the
southern town of Redeyef were demonstrating
against unemployment and the rising cost of
living, front page news in the daily press was
dominated by Tunisian students who passed
their baccalaureate exams.
The Interior Ministry registers all print
media, denying approval to titles perceived as
independent. This decade, the government set
up the National Frequencies Agency to license
private broadcasters, but its approval
criteria have never been disclosed, and
several independent applicants have never even
gotten a response from the agency, CPJ found.
The agency has licensed one television station
and three radio broadcasters, but all are
owned by business interests close to the
regime. Even so, the licenses bar the stations
from broadcasting any political news except
bulletins from the government news agency.
“Always on the minds of journalists is whether
the authorities will accept what they write.
They never talk about what the readers want.
Sometimes there is criticism in the daily
press, but it’s not directed at the main
decision-makers,” said one senior journalist
working for the pro-government press. He spoke
on condition he not be identified, citing fear
of retribution.
The fear is well-grounded. The government,
through the Tunisian External Communication
Agency (ATCE), distributes advertising from
government agencies and publicly owned
companies, and punishes outspoken newspapers
by withholding advertising, journalists told
CPJ. Private advertisers typically follow suit
when the government pulls advertising, these
journalists said. The ATCE operates opaquely:
It doesn’t disclose guidelines on how it doles
out ads, and ATCE Director General Oussama
Romdhani did not respond to CPJ’s repeated
calls seeking comment.
Despite this long record of hindering the
press, Ben Ali frequently issues disingenuous
calls for an end to self-censorship. “We have
constantly considered freedom of expression as
a fundamental human right,” Reuters quoted Ben
Ali as saying in May. “We reiterate our call
to redouble efforts ... to diversify and
enrich spaces of dialogue in the various media
to guarantee a developed and audacious
national information ... away from all forms
of self-censorship and external censorship.”
Raouf Cheikhrouhou, manager of the Dar al-Sabah
media company and one of the few
pro-government news executives who agreed to
meet with CPJ, defended his publications and
said they were independent. Asked why his
newspapers, which include the influential
40,000-circulation daily Al-Sabah, do not look
into government corruption or criticize high
level officials, he blamed the law. “Here in
Tunisia there is a press law and you cannot go
outside the law,” he said. “Under the law we
cannot offend the president. Tunisia is not
Europe. It is an Arab, Muslim country. … We
are going step by step and I think the press
is going the right way.”
When pro-government papers do undertake
aggressive journalism, it often entails
smearing independent reporters and activists.
Newspapers such as the leading circulation
daily Echourouk, the weekly Assarih, and the
weekly Al-Hadath frequently publish baseless
personal attacks on journalists, calling them
“traitors” and “foreign agents.” Editors from
these papers did not respond to CPJ’s calls
seeking comment.
At the other end of the spectrum from the
well-funded pro-government press are tiny
opposition papers and online publications that
face enormous obstacles. Collectively, their
circulation is about 30,000 copies weekly (the
pro-government tabloid daily Echourouk
reportedly distributes 80,000 alone), they
cost more to buy, and they all face limits in
their political coverage.
In practice, only two opposition
newspapers—the weeklies Al-Mawkif, which
belongs to the Progressive Democratic Party,
and Mouatinoun, affiliated with the Democratic
Forum for Labor and Liberties—have what could
be considered a consistently aggressive
editorial policy. The others depend on
government subsidies to the tune of about
90,000 Tunisian dinars (US$75,000) annually,
are handed lucrative advertising from
government agencies and public-owned
companies, and are politically tame as a
result.
Rachid Kechana, the affable editor of Al-Mawkif,
has been waging a constant battle to publish
his weekly since it reappeared on newsstands
in 2001 following a seven-year hiatus. Kechana,
with the help of five staffers, fills his
papers’ pages with stories not found in the
rest of the press—reports from human rights
groups criticizing the government’s record,
articles about questionable land deals by
government officials, and stories about rising
food prices. He has done it all on a
shoestring budget. Unlike most other
opposition papers, Al-Mawkif doesn’t receive
government subsidies (under the law, parties
must have active representatives in parliament
and his does not), and has been largely
blacklisted by advertisers. As a result, the
paper survives on its newsstand sales, and
Kechana, who doubles as Tunis correspondent
for the London-based daily Al-Hayat, is unable
to take a salary.
Still, the paper has grown from four to 12
pages, its print run has increased tenfold to
10,000 copies, and it has grown bolder in its
news coverage. With the paper’s rising
influence has come increased government
pressure—and that has caused new problems.
Dependent on newsstand sales, Al-Mawkif can be
crippled financially whenever the government
decides to interfere. “Every week, we have to
calculate the risk. When we choose a headline,
we have to think how much it will antagonize
the government,” Kechana said.
The paper found out in March, when it ran a
series of tough stories on human rights
abuses, a questionable deal involving a
businessman close to Ben Ali, and the
long-shot presidential candidacy of the
Progressive Democratic Party’s former head,
Nejib Chebbi. Soon after, copies of the
newspaper began to disappear from kiosks. Over
a four-week period in March and April, vendors
reported that secret police scooped up copies
in bulk, Kechana said. Al-Mawkif also
discovered large numbers of copies
undistributed in the offices of its
circulation contractor, Sotupresse. Al-Mawkif
records show a drastic drop in sales, reaching
a low of 744 copies in one week. Sotupresse
Director General Saleh Nouri denied
suggestions that copies were being withheld,
saying his company operates “freely.” Tunisian
officials would not meet with CPJ to comment
on the case.
At the same time copies were being taken out
of circulation, Al-Mawkif found itself the
target of a 500,000-dinar (US$415,000) lawsuit
brought by five Tunisian cooking oil
distributors. The companies claimed the paper
published false news in an opinion piece
calling for an investigation into news reports
that contaminated cooking oil was illegally
exported to Algeria. The suit was brought by
the companies although they were not named in
the article and the commentary was based on a
report in the Algerian daily Al-Khabar. Hassan
al-Thabeet, the lawyer representing the
companies, said they contacted him separately
to file the suit and had not acted in concert.
He declined other comment.
The outspoken weekly Mouatinoun, founded in
2007 as the mouthpiece of the Democratic Forum
for Labor and Liberties, faces similar
political and economic obstacles. The
avuncular party head, Mustafa Ben Jaafar, who
is also the paper’s director, publishes with a
volunteer staff from a four-room apartment in
downtown Tunis, selling about 1,000 copies per
issue. He says he can get no advertising from
public companies and that newspaper vendors
hide his paper in their kiosks. Plainclothes
security agents sit outside the apartment
building on watch. “They are there 24 hours a
day,” Ben Jaafar said. “This is a form of
intimidation for ordinary citizens.”
For the image-conscious government,
marginalizing these papers is preferable to
shutting them down. “The government needs Al-Mawkif
to show the world that it has an open
media—when in reality it is completely
restricted,” says Lotfi Hajji, Tunis
correspondent for Al-Jazeera.
You can spot the offices of Kalima, just off
of Al-Hurriya Street, by the security agents
planted in plastic chairs opposite the
building 24 hours a day. Secret police aside,
Kalima is not your average Tunisian news
outlet. Founded in 2000 by the
journalist-activist Sihem Bensedrine, Kalima
publishes biting critiques in Arabic and
French of Ben Ali and his family, as well as
stories about torture and human rights abuses.
Its cramped, poorly lit office also serves as
headquarters for the National Council for
Liberties in Tunisia (CNLT), a local human
rights group, and the press freedom group the
Observatory for the Freedom of Press,
Publishing, and Creation.
This year, for the fifth time in nine years,
Bensedrine sought permission to produce a
print edition of Kalima, but officials at the
Ministry of Interior would not accept her
application. Kalima still prints a few hundred
unauthorized copies on a photocopy machine,
but it mainly publishes on the Internet and by
e-mail. The site is blocked in Tunisia,
although it is widely read abroad.
Kalima is part of a small but growing samizdat
electronic media that has emerged beyond the
censors’ reach. Its aggressive approach to
news and political commentary has made the
paper the target of intensive harassment in
the form of threats, intimidation, violent
attacks, and jail. Bensedrine and
Editor-in-Chief Neziha Rejiba say their
offices are regularly burglarized; they return
to work in the mornings to find computers
turned on and files printed out. “They want to
show us we are not in a secure environment,”
Bensedrine said. As with other independent
journalists, their e-mail accounts are
infiltrated by malicious programs.
Bensedrine’s entire e-mail queue once vanished
after she clicked open an e-mail.
Bensedrine was imprisoned for six weeks in
2001 after discussing corruption and human
rights abuses during a satellite television
interview. She has been the target of numerous
assaults, such as a 2004 attack in which
presumed secret police agents punched her in
the face and chest. And Bensedrine has been
the target of scathing personal attacks in
pro-government newspapers such as Ashourouq,
Assarih, and Al-Hadath, which have called her
a prostitute, a "creature of the devil," and a
"hateful viper." One of those leading the
attacks, Abdelhamid Riahi of Ashourouq, was
later decorated by the president for cultural
achievements.
Omar Mestiri, a human rights activist and the
managing editor of Kalima, was the target of a
spurious 2007 defamation lawsuit brought by
Mohammed Baccar, a lawyer with close
connections to state authorities. The case
stemmed from a September 2006 article in which
Mestiri criticized the Tunisian Bar
Association’s decision to lift Baccar’s
disbarment. The prosecution did not challenge
the accuracy of the story but insisted that
Mestiri reveal his sources. Baccar finally
withdrew his complaint, but just a day later
unknown arsonists torched the office of Ayachi
Hammami, the human rights lawyer who defended
Mestiri.
Even for enterprising Tunisian journalists,
several types of stories are out of reach.
Violent protests over unemployment and rising
food costs rocked the southern mining town of
Redeyef in January and continued in the
ensuing months, but virtually no coverage
followed. Journalists and activists said
government forces had cordoned off the city
and barred nonresidents and journalists from
entering. In June, authorities detained
reporter-activist Hadi al-Ridaoui for two days
after he took pictures and interviewed wounded
demonstrators at the hospital in nearby Gafsa.
“You can write about sports all you want. But
issues important to society, like the
demonstrations in Redeyef, the press can’t do
anything except print what the government
wants,” said Al-Jazeera correspondent Hajji.
Hajji’s situation reflects the severe limits
the government is willing to place on the
international press. The ATCE controls foreign
reporters by requiring them to obtain
government accreditation and then get explicit
permission to cover any official event. As
part of the Tunisian government’s longstanding
feud with Al-Jazeera over its coverage of
Tunisian dissidents, authorities have refused
to accredit Hajji since 2004. Hajji has no
office and is not authorized to cover the
news, although he continues to file stories
for Al-Jazeera’s Web site and send reports by
e-mail. Hajji said police so often arrive at
his meetings and interviews, it’s clear they
monitor his phone conversations. In May, as
Hajji was traveling to proceedings in the
cooking-oil lawsuit against Kechana, police
delayed him at a toll road until the hearing
was over.
While many independent journalists are still
working, others are losing hope. With Ben Ali
set to run for a fifth term in 2009, they are
bracing for a renewed clampdown designed to
ensure the president’s smooth re-election to a
new five-year term. “There is no place for an
independent media project today,” said the
Tunisian journalism teacher. Propaganda work,
sure, he says. Business projects, absolutely.
There will always be plenty of state money to
burnish Tunisia’s international image.
But Hajji’s case—like those of Boukhdhir,
Bensedrine, Kechana, and others—illustrates
the government’s determination to control the
news and to quash free expression. Until that
situation changes, until Tunisia’s
international allies speak up for change, the
opportunity for political freedom will be
severely limited. |
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