AAM DISPATCH

As I was sitting here in my hotel room in Sanaa, jousting with the Internet in an effort to upload an audio slideshow about illegal gold mining in Peru (to accompany our new program on reducing carbon emissions), and preparing to write a blog post about my observations during my first 24 hours in town, I heard the distinct sound of a ruckus outside. I peered out my window, and saw a small mass of people marching down the street singing songs and carrying signs (ok, they weren’t so much singing songs as chanting, but couldn’t resist the Buffalo Springfield reference).

Journalists are drawn to demonstrations/marches like moths to a flame, so I grabbed my camera and recorder and ran outside. The crowd had stopped in the middle of the street outside my hotel and people began delivering speeches over the battery-operated PA system they were carrying. Many of the signs had the picture of the same man. One of the pictures showed him severely injured and in a medical facility. One sign had the words “Women Journalists Without Chains” written in English at the bottom.

I was unsure what this was all about, but one thing was clear – it was peaceful. There were a number of police/military men wandering around and none looked threatened or concerned. In fact, on of them helped me up onto a small wall so I could take better pictures, so there didn’t seem to be any concern about violence or security.

After a few minutes, the speeches stopped, and the crowd again began chanting and marching. I was able to grab the attention of one of the women who spoke, and she said that this was a weekly protest for press freedom and the release of imprisoned journalists.

The crowd continued down the street and out onto one of the main roads in the neighborhood. The protest continued to grow in size as it made its way down the street, stopping traffic all the way. Traffic police at intersections simply looked on and smiled and laughed with one another. Again, it was clear this was a regular event, and at no point was there the slightest hint of tension or confrontation.

The overwhelmingly male crowd continued down the road, and finally turned off down a small side street. Ultimately, the crowed made its way into the outside patio of a small building. It was the Yemen Journalists Syndicate – a rights organization.

Once everyone had gathered inside the fence around the building, the woman in charge gathered a few speakers on the steps in front of the building, and they took turns reading or delivering speeches. One of the women trembled underneath her niqab as she spoke. Since I couldn’t understand her or see anything but her eyes, I couldn’t tell whether it was emotion or nerves.

Unfortunately, since this all happened so quickly, I was unable to call my translator, and I could not find anyone in the crowd who spoke English to give me a play-by-play.

After about 20 minutes of speeches, the event came to a close and people began to file out of the courtyard. I was able to briefly talk to the woman who was running the event. She was Tawakul Karman, the president of Women Journalists Without Chains. Unfortunately she had to run off to a meeting and didn’t have time to talk (and said that none of the people in the crowd could speak English, especially considering that most are marginally literate in Arabic to begin with), but said she’ll make some time for me next week.

What I found interesting about the whole event was that there is enough freedom in Yemen for people to hold a weekly protest/march through city to call attention to the lack of press freedom in the country (Yemen ranks 167 out of 175 on the 2009 Reporters Without Borders Press Freedom Index). There were a number of people with cameras who were following along the event, although no sign of any major media outlets (given that this has been a long running, weekly event, I can imagine that major outlets have already covered this to the extent that they are interested). Again, there were no signs of resistance – no authorities stopped or questioned me as the only non-local, shall we say, in the scrum.

Yet, the government does have journalists in custody, and there are a number of outstanding allegations by rights groups, and journalism watchdog organizations (including Women Journalists Without Chains) that the government of Yemen is behind the disappearance of a number of journalists.

In fact, the government just recently admitted it has Muhammad al-Maqaleh in custody. Al-Maqaleh writes for an opposition publication, and wrote critically about the government’s conduct in the military campaign against Houthi rebels in the Saada region. He mysteriously disappeared in September after he began covering the offensive, and until last week, the government had denied that it had taken him into custody.

So, press freedom is a touchy subject here, and I’m looking forward to speaking in depth with Ms. Karman to hear about her organization, their claims about press freedom and the imprisonment of journalists, and hearing the government’s side of the story.

Sean Carberry press freedom, Sanaa, Women Journalists Without Chains, Yemen