In defence of Kenya’s freedom of the press

Local newspapers on the streets in Nairobi on 16 March 2009. PHOTO: Fredrick Onyango

What you need to know:

  • Corruption scandals are seldom pursued. A story about ministers’ new houses or sudden wealth is not followed up by revealing which ministers, which wealth, which houses.
  • Ten years ago, there was limited freedom of the press in Kenya. Now it is once again threatened.
  • It is sometimes unreliable, often irresponsible, but still an outspoken voice in the chaos of corruption and half-lies that characterise Kenyan politics.

Kenyans love their newspapers.

The open Kenyan press is worth loving. It informs and debates. It discloses each new season how much the MPs raise their own salaries and which implausible benefits they grant themselves. It reports about corruption and decay.

It imposes on itself a high degree of respectable self-censorship on ethnic issues in a country where conflicts often have such an undertone and almost everyone votes according to ethnicity.

The press is also loud-mouthed and sensationalist. The corruption scandals are seldom pursued. A story about ministers’ new houses or sudden wealth is not followed up by revealing which ministers, which wealth, which houses. Some journalists can be bought. But still, a free press is the backbone of the vibrant Kenyan political life.

It has not always been that way. Ten years ago, there was limited freedom of the press in Kenya. Now it is once again threatened.

In 2003, a democratically elected president came to power. Kenya became fundamentally more democratic. There was immense pride over the unification of the opposition and the unseating of a dictator by the voters.

The structures of the political landscape were upset. The political opposition, including the churches and the civil society had won and moved into State House.

In this new landscape, corruption was a scourge and the press a linchpin. It became freer, more outspoken, even insolent. But the freedom had its limits, which were sometimes set by self-censorship, but also by journalists or editors being bought.

During President Kibaki’s administration, there were clear attempts to curtail the freedom of the press. There was flagrant abuse against The Standard newspaper, evidently with support from the top. Old and new corruption scandals were covered up.

The new rulers felt lost when facing the scrutiny of the press. They asked: “We’re the good guys, why are you attacking us?”

The government presented a new media Bill in which KBC radio and TV were to be the mouthpiece of the government. I criticised the Bill in an article in the Nation.

After the terrorist attack at Westgate, the media fulfilled their task. They reported, analysed and commented. They showed how badly the police and military handled the attack and how they looted.

Now, Parliament has, with undue haste adopted a new Media Act. Its central tenet is to set up a new institution with the right to punish newspapers as well as editorial staff and individual journalists.

Kenya has had its ups and downs. After the democratic breakthrough in 2003, there was an upward swing and a feeling of euphoria prevailed; then there was a sharp downturn after the 2007 elections, which were a national disaster.

After that, there was a period of calm, despite both the President and the Deputy President being summoned to stand trial at the International Criminal Court for crimes against humanity.

The media has been a voice to be listened to. It is sometimes unreliable, often irresponsible, but still an outspoken voice in the chaos of corruption and half-lies that characterise Kenyan politics.

That voice must be protected.

Mr Göransson was Sweden’s ambassador to Kenya (2003-2006).