Clubby journalists
The influential TV political talk show who were invited to the president's fabled estate ended up serving as props for public relations than journalists.
It must have been a heady experience getting a special invitation from President Viktor Yanukovych to see a small slice of his multimillion-dollar estate in Mezhyhiria, and have it all filmed by presidential camera crews.
The experience was so intoxicating that the assembled journalists in attendance lost their heads and didn’t even bother to ask Yanukovych any tough questions.
How did he acquire Mezhyhiria from the state? Why was a complicated web of shell companies used to mask the transaction? Where did the money come from for the purchase and elaborate renovation under way in recent years at the 140-hectare luxury compound? Who controls it? How much was paid?
No, TV personalities Savik Shuster and Yevgeny Kiselyov, among the hand-picked stooges in attendance, didn’t think it was polite or relevant to ask questions in the public interest from the state’s top public servant. So they ended up serving more as props for presidential PR than journalists.
Shuster and Kiselyov appear very interested in being part of the insiders’ club and pulling down big salaries as hosts of popular, televised political mud-slinging matches. They appear less interested in doing any real journalism, or using their positions and fame to serve the public interest.
Confronted about their presidential tete-a-tete, they were shameless, unapologetic and even confrontational about their lapses.
“I think that all Ukrainian journalists are divided into two parts: those worried about the problem of Mezhyhiria and those interested in actual politics. I belong to the latter category. That’s why I didn’t remember it,” Kiselyov said. “Honestly, I do not care about it.”
“It is not correct,” Shuster said, acting more like someone invited to tea with the queen rather than a journalist with the president. “The guy is inviting you to his place and you are spitting into his face. This is not how things are done.”
Shuster is right in saying “this is not how things are done” – in Ukraine anyway. Shuster, Kiselyov and others puffed up on their egos think they are the story, not the story itself. And the story here smacks of abuse of government privileges with a strong whiff of private graft. And when it involves the president, it’s a big story.
Mistakes in fact and judgment happen in journalism and we make our share. But, for goodness sakes, not trying at all to get the story or ask the hard question is the biggest sin of all. Approaching its 20th anniversary as a nation, Ukraine’s journalists need to be less supine and servile and remember who they should be serving – the public, not politicians or vested business interests.
It must have been a heady experience getting a special invitation from President Viktor Yanukovych to see a small slice of his multimillion-dollar estate in Mezhyhiria, and have it all filmed by presidential camera crews.
The experience was so intoxicating that the assembled journalists in attendance lost their heads and didn’t even bother to ask Yanukovych any tough questions.
How did he acquire Mezhyhiria from the state? Why was a complicated web of shell companies used to mask the transaction? Where did the money come from for the purchase and elaborate renovation under way in recent years at the 140-hectare luxury compound? Who controls it? How much was paid?
No, TV personalities Savik Shuster and Yevgeny Kiselyov, among the hand-picked stooges in attendance, didn’t think it was polite or relevant to ask questions in the public interest from the state’s top public servant. So they ended up serving more as props for presidential PR than journalists.
Shuster and Kiselyov appear very interested in being part of the insiders’ club and pulling down big salaries as hosts of popular, televised political mud-slinging matches. They appear less interested in doing any real journalism, or using their positions and fame to serve the public interest.
Confronted about their presidential tete-a-tete, they were shameless, unapologetic and even confrontational about their lapses.
“I think that all Ukrainian journalists are divided into two parts: those worried about the problem of Mezhyhiria and those interested in actual politics. I belong to the latter category. That’s why I didn’t remember it,” Kiselyov said. “Honestly, I do not care about it.”
“It is not correct,” Shuster said, acting more like someone invited to tea with the queen rather than a journalist with the president. “The guy is inviting you to his place and you are spitting into his face. This is not how things are done.”
Shuster is right in saying “this is not how things are done” – in Ukraine anyway. Shuster, Kiselyov and others puffed up on their egos think they are the story, not the story itself. And the story here smacks of abuse of government privileges with a strong whiff of private graft. And when it involves the president, it’s a big story.
Mistakes in fact and judgment happen in journalism and we make our share. But, for goodness sakes, not trying at all to get the story or ask the hard question is the biggest sin of all. Approaching its 20th anniversary as a nation, Ukraine’s journalists need to be less supine and servile and remember who they should be serving – the public, not politicians or vested business interests.
Trying democracy
By trying Yuliya Tymoshenko, the government is putting democracy on trial.
The start of the trial of opposition leader Yulia Tymoshenko on charges of abuse of power is also the start of a trial of the authorities’ commitment to democracy. So far, they’re failing miserably.
The charge against the former prime minister is that she abused her power by ordering a subordinate to sign a gas deal with Russia without permission from her Cabinet of Ministers. She is also facing investigations into the procurement of ambulances and the alleged misuse of budget funds that should have been assigned to green projects.
Few from Washington all the way to Brussels and beyond Kyiv doubt that the trial against Tymoshenko and the probes into a dozen or so of her allies amount to selective justice.
Given the rampant, pervasive corruption that everyone sees, it is simply unbelievable that of the charges against leading figures, nearly all are against former members of Tymoshenko’s government. The pretense that Yanukovych and others maintain that this is not a political trial is laughable.
Everything that presidential friend General Prosecutor Viktor Pshonka does smacks of political retribution on behalf of Yanukovych and his friends, such as billionaire Dmytro Firtash, whose business interests suffered during Tymoshenko's two terms as prime minister.
It is hard to be sympathetic toward Tymoshenko. She gained great wealth during a time of extreme poverty for most Ukrainians in the 1990s, allegedly benefitting from sweetheart deals from then-Prime Minister Pavlo Lazarenko. She denies any wrongdoing.
It was only three years ago when she flirted with the idea of forming an alliance with Yanukovych that would have seen both running the country long-term through a power-sharing pact.
Nevertheless, the circus of her trial cannot be taken seriously as an attempt to fight corruption in Ukraine. It is telling that the first accusations against Tymoshenko’s government were detailed in a presidential Party of Regions-friendly report by three U.S. investigative and legal firms.
That was a show document. This is a show trial.
The start of the trial of opposition leader Yulia Tymoshenko on charges of abuse of power is also the start of a trial of the authorities’ commitment to democracy. So far, they’re failing miserably.
The charge against the former prime minister is that she abused her power by ordering a subordinate to sign a gas deal with Russia without permission from her Cabinet of Ministers. She is also facing investigations into the procurement of ambulances and the alleged misuse of budget funds that should have been assigned to green projects.
Few from Washington all the way to Brussels and beyond Kyiv doubt that the trial against Tymoshenko and the probes into a dozen or so of her allies amount to selective justice.
Given the rampant, pervasive corruption that everyone sees, it is simply unbelievable that of the charges against leading figures, nearly all are against former members of Tymoshenko’s government. The pretense that Yanukovych and others maintain that this is not a political trial is laughable.
Everything that presidential friend General Prosecutor Viktor Pshonka does smacks of political retribution on behalf of Yanukovych and his friends, such as billionaire Dmytro Firtash, whose business interests suffered during Tymoshenko's two terms as prime minister.
It is hard to be sympathetic toward Tymoshenko. She gained great wealth during a time of extreme poverty for most Ukrainians in the 1990s, allegedly benefitting from sweetheart deals from then-Prime Minister Pavlo Lazarenko. She denies any wrongdoing.
It was only three years ago when she flirted with the idea of forming an alliance with Yanukovych that would have seen both running the country long-term through a power-sharing pact.
Nevertheless, the circus of her trial cannot be taken seriously as an attempt to fight corruption in Ukraine. It is telling that the first accusations against Tymoshenko’s government were detailed in a presidential Party of Regions-friendly report by three U.S. investigative and legal firms.
That was a show document. This is a show trial.
0 comments:
Post a Comment