It is not difficult to identify reasons why Ukraine is moving at a snail’s pace, to put it mildly, along the reform path. History and the conveniently-positioned nomenklatura are two culprits commonly blamed for the stagnant political system and moribund economy. Yet little or no criticism is directed at what should be another prime suspect.
This perpetrator of society’s ills is omnipresent, yet at the same time almost invisible. Perceived as a source of great power, it remains impotent. At issue is, of course, the press. No other institution in Ukrainian society has anywhere near the same potential for stimulating change. And no other profession has failed so miserably in the task set before it following independence. Rather than taking up the challenge of creating a lively forum for discussion that would produce change in post-communist Ukraine, the press has adapted itself in a very Soviet fashion to changed conditions.
In this case, truly, the medium is the message. One of the principal lines of adaptation has been financial. Buying an article in a Ukrainian newspaper is relatively simple and inexpensive, on the order of $30 and up. Cash is not even always required. For example, Ukrainian politicians have taken to using political capital to purchase articles in order to promote themselves as they make a run for high government office.
Even more troubling is the fact that practically all Ukrainian newspapers are financially dependent on a very narrow circle of sponsors, who are not shy in using their papers as personal vehicles. Whatever the merits of the conflict between Interior Minister Yury Kravchenko and Dendi President Mykhailo Brodsky, the latter’s use of Kievskie Vedomosti to defend his position has been nothing if not excessive.
Underlying issues of ownership and influence affect the substance of the newspaper reporting business in other ways. A surprisingly frank article about the internal workings of the Presidential Administration had been published at the behest of its then-chairman, Dmytro Tabachnyk. The “real” author was never found.
When a sensational article alleging covert Russian interference in Ukrainian politics appeared last January in Vseukrainskie Vedomosti alleging under the headline “President Kuchma must be removed,” the real sensation was that it had almost certainly been placed by sources close to the president.
Pat phrases harking back to the Soviet era, such as “their discussion was constructive,” “the authorities are conducting an investigation,” and “battle for the harvest” are commonplace.
Whether controlled by a given businessman, the Presidential Administration or Parliament Speaker Oleksandr Moroz, Ukrainian newspapers are not respected.
Aware of the cozy relationship between newspapers and their sponsors, the public remains cynical.
Radio and TV are even worse off than the printed press, because they are more susceptible to interference by the government. The few news-oriented programs which are distinguishable from the morass of lackadaisical blathering are hardly worthy of note.
Oleksandr Tkachuk’s “Pysliamova” is shiny and slick, but superficial.
The “Fifth Corner” TV show specializes in trying to trip up politicians or personalities on what they have said in the past. Hardly the stuff of which Pulitzer prizes are made.
Of course, the situation is more complex. The economics of the business almost ensures that Ukrainian newspapers cannot make a profit, and so require sponsors.
Politicians have taken to abusing Ukrainian legislation by suing the press for huge amounts of money for damage to their “honor and dignity,” of all things.
The tax inspector or some other body of the state’s huge repressive apparatus can be used to close down “deviant” newspapers.
The recent killings of journalists Petro Shevchenko and Boris Derevianko are grim reminders of the deadly danger that lurks below the surface.
Yet other professions in Ukraine, such as those of a politician or businessman, are dangerous as well.
And there can be no doubt but that the main fault for the staleness of Ukraine’s press lies with the journalists themselves. Difficult working conditions offer them a tremendous chance to make a career. In a country where investigative journalism is practically a dead letter, the first muckraker to break with tradition can reap great rewards.
Not to mention that a crucial pillar of any democracy is a free and vibrant press.
The journalist Wolodymyr Skachko, in an article in Zerkalo Nedeli, once lamented the fact that the Ukrainian press has failed to bring about the fall of a powerful figure. This would have, supposedly, assured it more of a role and perhaps even some respect. In this connection, it has been commented wryly that it would take a Ukrainian journalist to write, with regret, about what journalists have failed to do, rather than simply doing it.
Ivan Lozowy is the executive director of the Institute of Statehood and Democracy.
