In general, the new papers did
not attempt to provide the kind of routine (but officially approved) news reporting found
in the dailies; instead they provided comment, alternative news and gossip of a kind that
the daily papers would not wish to print. Apart from one or two newspapers devoted
entirely to sport, the motivation was political rather than commercial - in fact, hardly
any of them were financially viable. Three of the new papers were government-owned, five
were published directly by political parties, and others had party links or were published
by individuals with political ambitions. The proprietor of the Yemen Times, for example,
stood as an independent candidate in the 1993 elections. The Press and Publications Law: The legal parameters of
press freedom were set by the Press and Publications Law4, signed by President
Salih in December 1990. In several respects it was an unsatisfactory piece of legislation,
combining radical and conservative ideas in roughly equal measure, seeking to guarantee
freedom of expression on the one hand, and to maintain reserve powers which could be used
to restrain the press if necessary, on the other. This was perhaps the natural response of
legislators who felt obliged to relinquish control and yet feared the consequences of
doing so. The law began in suitably idealistic terms:
Freedom of knowledge, thought, the press, expression,
communication and access to information are rights of the citizen which enable him/her to
express his/her thoughts orally, in writing or in pictorial or in drawing form or by any
other means of expression. These rights are guaranteed to every citizen by the
Constitution and by the provisions of this law5.
The most radical section of the law concerned the rights
of Yemeni journalists, and was sufficient to make their colleagues in most other countries
envious:
1. Access to official reports and information.
"Authorities possessing such items shall make it possible for [journalists] to have
cognisance and use of them". This amounted to a "freedom of information"
clause - a right granted in the United States but in few other countries6.
2. Confidentiality of sources. Journalists were
entitled to protect the identity of their sources - a right not available in many
countries, including Britain7.
3. Freedom of conscience. "A journalist has
the right to refuse to prepare or to write press material which is in conflict with
his/her beliefs."8
4. Freedom of opinion. "A journalist may not
be interrogated on opinions which he has expressed or published ... provided what he/she
published is not contrary to the law."9
5. Independence. Journalists had the right "to
cover any local, Arab or international event regardless of the nature of relations which
link Yemen with the country in which that event occurs". This was particularly
important in a region where perceived national interests often restrict press coverage10.
Beyond this, the law appeared to take freedom of
conscience to such lengths that it would be difficult, if not impossible, for editors to
dismiss journalists or prevent them from writing whatever they wanted, even in cases of
incompetence11. Furthermore, editors were obliged to publish any articles
submitted by the public, so long as they did not infringe the press law12.
Writers whose articles had been refused publication could appeal to the Minister of
Information13.
The law also granted a right of reply and correction to
"citizens, political parties, popular organisations, ministries, government
authorities and companies" if published material concerned them or if they had
"a legitimate interest" in an article (whether or not it cast aspersions against
them directly)14. The reply had to be published in the same typeface, language
and space and on the same page as the original article, and had to be published within
three days of receipt (in the case of daily newspapers) or in the next issues (in the case
of newspapers or magazines which were not published daily). Publishers were also obliged
to correct any false information published as soon as they became aware of the truth -
apparently whether or not anyone exercised the right of reply15. In addition,
they were obliged to publish in their next issue "in the area reserved for important
news items, any communiqué, statement or news item sent to them by a ministry or a
government body which concerns the public good and corrects an item previously published
in the newspaper"16.
However, freedom of expression had its limits. Although
the law acknowledged the legitimacy of "different outlooks", these should be
"within the context of Islamic creed, within the basic principles of the
Constitution, and the goals of the Yemeni revolution and the aim of solidifying of
national unity"17. Many of the rights granted by the law were also
qualified by it. For example:
The press shall be independent and shall have full freedom
to practise its vocation ... No obstacles may be placed in the way of its activities except
in accordance with the provisions of this law18.
The press shall be free to print what it pleases and to
gather news and information from their sources. It shall be responsible before the law
for what it prints19.
The law assures the protection of journalists and authors,
and it provides the legal guarantees necessary for them to the practise their profession,
to enjoy freedom of expression and immunity from interference so long as they do not
contravene the provisions of this law20.
These general freedoms were accompanied by a list of
prohibitions:21
a) Anything which prejudices the Islamic faith and its
lofty principles or belittles religions or humanitarian creeds,
b) Any secret document or information which might
jeopardise the supreme interests of the country or expose any of its security or defence
secrets.
c) Anything which might cause tribal, sectarian, racial,
regional or ancestral discrimination, or which might spread a spirit of dissent and
division among the people or call on them to apostasise,
d) Anything which leads to the spread of ideas contrary to
the principles of the Yemeni revolution, prejudicial to national unity or distorting the
image of the Yemeni, Arab or Islamic heritage.
e) Anything which undermines public moral or prejudices
the dignity of individuals or the freedom of the individual by smears and defamation,
f) Deliberations behind closed doors of the supreme bodies
of the state,
g) Details of cases during investigation and trial which
might prejudice the course of justice. During these stages, the criminal investigation
departments, the police, the prosecution and the judiciary determine the items publication
of which are forbidden,
h) The intentional publication of false data or
information with the aim of influencing the economic trends and situation or of spreading
chaos and confusion in the country,
i) Incitement to use violence or terrorism,
j) Advertisements containing texts or pictures which are
inconsistent with Islamic values and public ethics, to defame or libel individuals, attack
the rights of others or mislead the public,
k) Advertisements for pharmaceutical preparations, beauty
aids or foodstuffs without the permission of the body concerned,
l) To criticise the person of the head of state, or to
attribute to him declarations or pictures unless the declarations were made or the picture
taken during a public speech. This does not necessarily apply to objective, constructive
criticism.
Most of these were unlikely to seriously hamper the
exercise of press freedom, provided that freedom was tempered with a degree of social
responsibility. Many countries have laws against sedition, incitement to racial hatred,
disclosure of military secrets, articles that might prejudice a forthcoming trial, etc.
The religious strictures - though unfamiliar in the West - were not unduly problematic in
a largely unsecularised country where Islamic values were almost universally assumed. The
main complaint was that the vagueness of the restrictions might leave them open to
arbitrary interpretation; however, some imprecision was perhaps inevitable, given Yemen's
lack of experience of press freedom.
The most curious restriction in terms of press freedom was
the injunction against criticising the president or quoting or photographing him except
while making a public appearance. The logic of this becomes clearer if one considers the
head of state as the embodiment of the nation: a person who, for reasons of patriotism,
should not be criticised or belittled. It is not very different, in fact, from the custom
observed by the British media in relation to the Queen. She is never directly criticised
(though her family and advisers may be); her informal remarks are never quoted; and she is
rarely photographed except when on official business. This happens by convention rather
than by law, but rules exist, nevertheless22. President Salih (though it
probably suited him to claim that his position as head of state placed him above politics)
was also an active politician - which meant that in a democracy he should be accountable
to the press and public. The law did, however, make some allowance for this by saying that
the injunction against criticising the president did "not necessarily apply to
objective, constructive criticism." Since "objective" and
"constructive" are not precise legal terms, nobody could be sure what that
meant, though Muhammad Ahmad Jurhum, the Socialist information minister, appeared to
interpret it fairly liberally: "You should not libel the president falsely, but you
can criticise the political decisions."23 Despite the uncertainty as to
how far criticism of the president might go, the idea that any form of criticism might be
permissible was a significant and radical departure from the climate prevailing in other
Arab states.
It is important, when considering these restrictions on
the press, not to ignore their converse effect on government: the freedoms granted to the
press by the new law also restricted the government's freedom to suppress publications
through arbitrary action:
No newspaper, magazine, publication or similar material
shall be confiscated except in accordance with this law24.
Viewed in that light, the law made a positive contribution
towards limited, constitutional government. Alleged violations of the law had to be dealt
with by the courts. In the words of the information minister: "Before [unification] I
had the right to close newspapers. Now I can't do that."25
As with the registration of political parties, the law
also laid down a licensing system for journalists, publishers and printers. This ensured
that when a breaches of the law occurred the offenders could be identified and it meant,
in theory, that they could be deprived of their livelihood if convicted. In practice,
however, if was little more than a tiresome bureaucratic hurdle which would-be publishers
had to surmount.
Accreditation as a journalist was open to suitably
qualified and experienced Yemeni citizens aged over 21 who had not been convicted of
"an offence against honour and integrity"26. In addition, newspaper
editors had to be at least 25 years old, with not less than five years' experience of
journalism. They were also required to work full-time in the post and not be employed by a
foreign state27. Foreign journalists working in Yemen were to be issued with an
accreditation card, renewable annually28. Among other things, this granted them
the right to travel throughout the country (which had not always been the case in the
past), provided that the Ministry of Information was informed in advance29.
However, the Ministry of information had the right to cancel, withdraw, or refuse to renew
the accreditation of foreign journalists without giving any reasons. This would normally
result in loss of the right of residence in Yemen30.
There was a similar licensing system for the owners of
printing presses, who were required to provide information about the number and types of
machines installed, and their location31. They also had to maintain a register,
stamped by the Ministry of Culture, containing details of all material printed on the
press, including the names of authors and the number of copies printed32.
Licensing regulations also applied to "the profession of exporting, import, renting,
sale, reproduction, showing or distribution of artistic compositions such as cinema films,
video cassettes or any other form of artistic composition"33.
The right to own and publish newspapers and magazines was
guaranteed "for all citizens, for licensed political parties and for public
companies, for popular organisations and for ministries and government corporations"34.
To obtain a licence, publishers had to supply the Ministry of Information with basic
details of the newspaper, including its title, frequency of publication and general
subject matter, together with names of the publisher, editor and printer. A statement of
assets and the name of its bank was also required. The law specified no grounds on which a
properly submitted application could be refused. A licence would be considered lapsed
under certain circumstances, for example if the publisher failed to notify the ministry of
changes in the information supplied or if the paper failed to appear for a specified
period35. Licences were not required for newspapers and magazines published by
political parties, popular organisations and government bodies36.
The possibility of foreign influence was a particular
concern - hence the insistence of the law that journalists, editors, publishers and owners
of printing presses should be Yemeni citizens. In the case of newspaper and magazine
publishing companies all the shares (not merely the majority) must be held by Yemenis37.
Newspapers and magazines were also forbidden from accepting loans or gifts from abroad or
from non-Yemeni bodies38. To ensure compliance with the law, publishers were
required to produce audited accounts and their financial records were to be available for
inspection by officials from the Ministry of Information39.
The law stipulated unusual rules for advertising.
Newspapers had to fix their advertising rates in consultation with the pricing authorities
and deposit a copy of their tariff with the Ministry of Information in order to guarantee
adherence to it40. The reasoning behind this is unclear. Price regulation in
Yemen was often applied to basic commodities, for social reasons, but advertising could
not be considered as belonging to that category. Possibly the aim was to protect the
official newspapers from competition; alternatively it may have been to prevent newspapers
receiving hidden subsidies (perhaps from abroad) through advertisements charged at
inflated rates. These provisions implied a small and unsophisticated domestic advertising
market, plus a lack of familiarity with the advertising business world-wide, and a certain
nervousness about it. In the west, advertising is one business area where rules of the suq
apply: rates fluctuate according to the supply of space and demand for it; advertisers
haggle for prominent positions, discounts, etc, and for the bigger clients published rate
cards are often nothing more than a starting point in the bargaining process.
Penalties for offences under the press law were as
follows:41
1. Individuals could be fined up to 10,000 riyals or
imprisoned for up to one year. In addition, they could be banned from any of the
professions covered by the law for up to a year.
2. Offending material could be seized by court order.
3. Unlicensed newspapers, printing presses, publishing
houses, etc, could be closed by court order.
4. Copies of newspapers or other printed material which
violated the law could be seized by ministerial order. The matter would then be brought to
court to decide whether seized material should be permanently confiscated. The law also
allowed those affected by seizure to appeal through the courts and claim compensation.
5. There were no penalties for officials or others who
failed to grant journalists their rights under the law, though presumably these could be
enforced through the courts.
The editor of a publication was to be held "fully
responsible" for any breach of the law by a contributor "unless it can be proven
that publication took place without his knowledge"42. The latter phrase
introduced the principle of ignorance as a defence - an idea rejected in many countries
for the sound reason that an editor's duty is to ensure that he knows what is published in
his name. A further clause made it illegal for newspaper publishers or their workers to
appeal for donations to help pay fines, compensation, etc43. Presumably the
intention was to ensure that papers suffered the full effect of any penalties that might
be imposed under the law. In other countries, appeals of this kind have sometimes saved
small publications from closure.
Thus the Press and Publications Law served a number of
functions. It established the principle of a free press; it set limits to that freedom but
also imposed limits on the government's power to interfere; it sought to ensure fair play,
through the right of reply, etc; and it sought to safeguard the press from foreign
influence (especially important in Yemen because of Saudi attempts to meddle in its
internal politics). The vagueness of some of the rules - on "constructive"
criticism, for example - was sufficient to allow either liberal or restrictive
interpretation, and that, ultimately, was a matter for the courts to decide.
During the first two years of unity, the information
ministry drew up 10-12 cases against publishers. It lost two in court and dropped the
others, ostensibly because of the time and expense involved. In some cases, however, the
prosecutions were half-hearted from the beginning, suggesting - as one editor put it -
that the government was "filing lawsuits to intimidate"44. In August
1992 the ministry reportedly threatened to close Sawt al-Ummal, 22 May and al-Mustaqbil
(described by a western diplomat as one of the best papers in Yemen) for "not abiding
by the formal policy of the unified state"45. The government's most
spectacular defeat in court was a case of bureaucratic incompetence involving an article
in the English-language Yemen Times which had been translated into Arabic by the ministry.
Because of a mistake in translation, the offending words appeared only in the ministry's
version and not in the original article. While the journalists were normally left
unmolested, so too were those they accused. According to Dr Nasir al-Mutairi, publisher of
the weekly al-Siyasah ("Politics"), the usual response to exposés of corruption
was not to sack the officials concerned but to transfer them to another job where,
presumably, their activities continued.
The press law, like many other laws in Yemen, was never
fully operative during the first four years of unity. The government often failed to take
action against violations, even when there were prima facie grounds for doing so.
One editor-publisher attributed this to the general ineffectiveness of the state
machinery: "Its own inefficiency is the source of our freedom," he said46.
There were also reasons more closely connected with politics. After 1992, the rift within
the ruling coalition made it increasingly difficult to take decisive action in any area of
government; and the large number of party-owned publications could not easily be
suppressed without coming into direct conflict with the parties themselves - which, in the
run-up to the elections might have appeared unduly provocative.
Recognising the government's difficulties, several papers
regularly and deliberately tested the bounds of permissibility. The Yemen Times, for
example, criticised the president's custom of bribing people or, as the paper more
delicately put it, "using public funds to win favours and supporters". It
continued: "The President's largesse is so widespread that he is often referred to as
very generous ... Our rulers give away routinely large bundles of government cash, big
chunks of government land, government-paid-for cars, and government-paid-for ultra deluxe
furniture." In order to make its criticism "constructive", the paper added
that while the need to buy support was entirely understandable, it was perhaps not the
best policy: "If you buy someone's allegiance, remember there can always come into
play a higher bidder for that same allegiance." The publisher got away with it. He
recalled shortly afterwards: "The president made it known to me that he was very
upset. But I just sent a message back saying 'So what?' In the past that would have been a
very serious thing - I would have had to leave the country."47
The Yemen Times was unusually well protected. Because it
was published in English, with a few pages in French, there was no danger that anything it
said would inflame the masses. Its readers, apart from a few educated Yemenis, were mainly
foreign expatriates. It could therefore be allowed to criticise more openly than
Arabic-language papers and at the same time could be held up as proof of the government's
tolerant attitude. During and after the 1994 war, however, it came under pressure -
probably because the government felt it was becoming too influential among the diplomatic
community.
Although the law granted journalists the right "to
cover any local, Arab or international event regardless of the nature of relations which
link Yemen with the country in which that event occurs"48, this proved a
sensitive area. In November 1991, the Presidential Council instructed the official papers
not to respond to an anti-Yemen campaign in the Saudi press but was careful only to
express its "hope" that other papers would "stop publishing any false or
deceptive news which would harm the national interests"49. There were also
some attempts to extend the rule about criticism of the Yemeni president to other Arab
heads of state. The Ministry of Information attempted to stop one publication attacking
Mubarak and the Saudi government, and in August 1991, al-Thawra quoted Prime Minister
Attas as saying the press should not criticise "friendly" states50.
It seems likely that the pressure for this was coming from other Arab states which
maintained more rigorous control over their newspapers. The usual Yemeni response was to
urge editors not to publishing offending material in future. After one paper had
criticised a foreign head of state, Information Minister Jurhum said: "I called the
chief editor and asked him not to repeat this, that it is a matter of brotherly
relations"51. In general, though, foreign policy was an area where the
Yemeni press tended not to stray far from the government's line. Caution was especially
noticeable in relation to Yemen's stance on the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, even though some
opposition figures and one or two of the editors believed Yemen's interests would have
been better served by adopting a different position52. That was in sharp
contrast to coverage of Yemen's political crisis of 1993-94, which was probably more fully
discussed than any previous internal dispute in the Arab world.
On the whole, government restrictions were a less
significant barrier to the development of a free press than other factors. The rapid
growth in the number of publications was not matched by a proportional growth in the
numbers of trained journalists. While there was no shortage of people able and willing to
express their opinions or to make largely unchecked accusations, there were few published
examples of well-researched investigations or documented scandals. According to Dr Mutairi
of al-Siyasa, one of his greatest difficulties was finding enough journalists who knew how
to write articles that were critical without taking undue risks53.
Economic factors also placed the independent publishers at
a disadvantage. The market price for newspapers was established by those titles existing
before unification. This was commonly 3 riyals, with a few titles selling for 4, and
others in the south for as little as 1 or 11/2. Some of the existing papers were
undoubtedly subsidised, and with generally larger circulations which produced economies of
scale, they had a clear advantage over newcomers. In general, newcomers to the market were
obliged to charge the prices readers expected rather than the prices they needed to cover
their costs. The publisher of one short-lived paper claimed that normal sales revenue from
the 20,000 copies circulated in Yemen covered only about a sixth of total costs, and with
little prospect of substantial revenue from advertising, he was looking to overseas
subscriptions, charged at a higher rate, to help meet the losses54 .The only
successful exception to this appeared to be the English-language Yemen Times, sold at 10
riyals, which was aimed at a more affluent (and largely foreign) market. Independent
papers were also entitled to a subsidy from the Ministry of Information of 5,000 riyals a
month ($350 at the official exchange rate), though some refused to accept it55.
Usually, access to specialised newspaper presses was
available only to the official newspapers. The new titles had to contract-out their
printing to commercial printers using equipment that was relatively ill-suited to the
task: each copy had to be individually folded and collated, and the paper used was
generally heavier (and therefore more expensive) than newsprint. In two other respects,
however, the new papers were more efficient than the old ones. They normally used desk-top
publishing technology which is both labour-saving and comparatively cheap to buy. The
modern technology often led to a more attractive product. Another compensation was that
journalists on the new papers worked with more enthusiasm than those on the
government-owned papers, who tended to keep civil service hours. As one senior journalist
on the government-owned al-Thawra put it, "people go to the office for six hours a
day and work a maximum of two or three."56
Finally, the new unofficial press, despite its achievement
in widening the scope of debate and occasionally embarrassing the government, made a
limited impact on the Yemeni public. Most newspaper readers continued to buy the
government dailies which were little changed by the new climate of freedom, either in
structure or content57. Suggestions that they should be privatised or turned
into journalists' co-operatives came to nothing. With an illiteracy rate estimated at 60%,
the majority of Yemenis had no use for newspapers, either government-owned or independent,
and relied on radio or television for their daily news. The 13 radio stations and two TV
channels (Sana'a and Aden) were all state-owned and in effect controlled by the ruling
parties. They had little scope for independent reporting: their news was supplied by five
official agencies: al-Thawra, al-Jumhuriyya, 14 October, Saba News Agency and TV-Radio
Co-ordination. Some information, such as statements by the president, the Presidential
Council or the prime minister, had to be broadcast in full, without comment.
"News" on the northern channel followed the usual Arab formula of reporting the
president's daily engagements. However, a bold decision to broadcast parliamentary debates
unedited proved extremely popular. "Everyone watches parliament ... people are
exposed to a lot of different opinions, all legitimised as discussion," one western
academic commented58. For the most part, though, radio and television
programmes were extremely dull - with the result that many Yemenis listened to foreign
radio broadcasts or, if they could afford it, invested in a satellite dish.
© Brian Whitaker |