Archive for the ‘Talking about a revolution’ Category

Big media screws small nobody?

December 26, 2007


Photo:Emad Bornat, Foix, France, November 2007./Patrick Chalmers

I thought that headline might be the best angle for a hard news story to capture the tale of Emad Bornat, a Palestinian cameraman I met the other day near where I live in France. Emad was the story’s sometime stringer and “nobody” while Reuters was to play the part of big bad media. But then I hesitated for reasons some people, not least fellow journalists, might criticise.

Emad has been hit by rubber bullets, arrested and beaten while covering protests against Israel’s illegal land seizures in the West Bank. Last year he spent 60 days in jail and under house arrest awaiting charge for alleged violent acts against Israeli border guard. Since then, he says, Reuters has put him on hold, failed to renew his press card and denied him any form of compensation for the time of his detention.

I checked out what he said informally with Reuters but stopped short of going straight off for an on-the-record response from my former employers. Time will tell whether I was right to tackle the issue directly with them instead of trumpeting it via other media.

The reason I met Emad in the first place was that he was being interviewed on Radio Transparence about his film Bil’in against the Wall, which tells of his village’s non-violent campaign to reclaim its land. I went along as the programme’s English/French interpreter.

Emad impressed me deeply with his commitment to journalism and his faith in the power of video pictures to present the truth and to prevent injustices against the innocent. He became a cameraman only in 2001, after losing his gardening job in the second intifada, when he could no longer cross the border to work in Israel. By 2005 he was stringing for Reuters, feeding them footage as Bil’in came to symbolise Palestinian protests about the Israeli separation wall.


Photo:Four maps show (L to R) Palestinians’ loss of land to Israel from 1946 to 2006./Patrick Chalmers

The 36-year-old was arrested in November 2006, accused of throwing stones at a border guard with one hand while filming him with the other. Emad had a head wound that needed several stitches by the time he arrived under army escort at the nearest police station. Officers escorting him in a jeep said a radio set fell on him.
He was held in prison for 20 days and under house arrest for a further 40 before being freed on bail of nearly $4,000. His case remains pending. He told me Israeli soldiers had beaten him while he was under arrest, pointing to a scar under his left eye. “They took my camera and they beat me, the Israeli border guards,” he said.

I’d watched Emad’s film on the net before meeting him. I began by wondering at the futility of wave after wave of demonstrations over a series of weeks. As a political activist myself, a claim I’m almost embarrassed to make when I see the commitment of those in the film, it made me chew over the eternal “what’s-the-point?” question. Yet the imagination, passion and sheer persistence of demonstrators’ non-violence, just by themselves, taught me a real lesson about taking action in the face of apparent hopelessness.

Again and again they approach the barrier cutting them off from their land only to be repulsed by soldiers firing rubber bullets and percussion grenades. Particularly striking was the image of one man’s impassive face, shown in close up as he lay prone in the dirt with Israeli soldiers pinioning his arms behind his back.

Emad, the father of four boys aged between three and 12, is an able ambassador both for his village and his chosen craft as a journalist. He doesn’t stop his children going to the regular protests after Friday prayers, where he often films.

“It’s dangerous for them but they want to go. All the kids from Bil’in they want to go,” he told me after the radio interview.

“I film my kids, I film my brothers in the protests. Many times they beat my brothers. My brothers were arrested by the Israeli army and I kept filming [knowing] I cannot do anything for them. With my camera I can protect them, to show the reality of what’s happening.

“In the Israeli court, the soldiers can lie, they say they threw stones. With my filming, I can show the truth.”

A genuine example of good journalism’s power to influence, something beyond the celebrity fests and PR puffs that pack out most media space.

Yet Emad has barely worked since his arrest more than a year ago. He says Reuters backed away from him – saying they said they didn’t want more trouble with Israeli authorities.

He still posts stuff on YouTube, so it gets a limited airing, but he can’t feed his family or buy equipment with page views.

His position, as a stringer rather than salaried staff, puts him in the shaky employment world of those doing most of the dangerous work for international media companies such as Reuters. These people, usually low-paid locals, not only pass where their generally white, male employers cannot, they’re often far more knowledgeable about the story and all its subtleties.

I had thought to write about Emad’s plight for a UK publication such as the Guardian or at least a trade publication such as the UK Press Gazette or the NUJ’s in-house magazine The Journalist.

I haven’t done yet for various reasons, not least of which is that one of the Reuters staff involved is a very good friend. I am also reluctant to profit from the story of someone I may or may not help by writing it. More fundamentally though, which surprises me given my usual conviction about journalism’s potential to influence, I’m not sure if a journalistic approach would be in Emad’s best interests.

“Big media screws small nobody” might make a decent enough, if fairly predictable, story. But it would also distract from the main story affecting Emad and his fellow villagers, which is Bil’in’s loss of territory and the bigger picture of Israeli-Palestinian conflict. My dilemma begs the question of whether journalists should always publish and be damned or sometimes hold their tongues and allow calmer reflection in private. I hope my instinct proves right.

So I’ve written this blog entry as a public record and passed an email with Emad’s detailed comments to Reuters bureau chief for Israel and the Palestinian Territories, Alastair MacDonald. I hope that they can sort something out between themselves, so that Emad can keep on doing his work. We’ll see.


Things can’t only get better

October 31, 2007


"Help me, I can't breathe"

I have spent the best part of the last two months (total blog posts = 2, including this one) renovating my house, a project that is likely to continue into mid next year. In the meantime, writing my book and doing the journalism necessary to support its creation are among the activities that are suffering. I don’t fool myself that that is in the least bit consequential to anything beyond the immediate arena of my family, friends and bank balance but it is personally and professionally frustrating.

From the furtive moments spent browsing the news in its various internet-based forms, I can’t see much in the way of hopeful signs of solutions to our growing global mess.

The coronation of Gordon Brown in place of Tony Blair as British Prime Minister can be fairly encapsulated in this piece from the Observer’s Henry Porter, a neat dissection of Brown’s sleight of hand when it comes to Britons’ rights. Brown’s will-he-won’t-he election shoe shuffle was also illuminating both for its cynicism and for the voluminous media coverage it engendered at the expense of more pressing subjects.

Those subjects would include the global rate of species loss and a welter of other measures of planetary health.

They would also include our near-total immersion in commercial messages, a process identified and attacked by the doughty warriors at adbusters. I at least managed to find the short amount of time required to sign up to their media carta.

Alternet’s summary of some things being done worldwide to try to reverse our environmental self destruction process was also worth the read.

From my rooftop slinging tiles, hunched under a stairwell hacking out old wood or emptying the site’s composting bog, these glints of light are encouraging.

Deeds not words, alas for “talking about a revolution”

July 27, 2007

Stills from “Our daily bread” by Nikolaus Geyrhalter

You might think from the lack of recent entries that my book on democracy and journalism has ground to a halt or certainly slowed to sleepwalking pace. It’s true, if measured by new words on the page but not if, charitably perhaps, you include the evolution of ideas and experiences on the ground. For the latter, that entails my involvement in helping to organise regular film/debate nights and with Sabbar, a festival of political resistance.

The film nights, held on the second Friday of every month in Montbrun-Bocage, have been running for about a year now. Setting a regular date and place, an idea robbed shamelessly from the internet heads and their First Tuesdays, is to get people used to coming out regularly to watch political films, to discuss them and to have a drink together. I have enjoyed the events for the variety of films I’ve been able to watch, for what I’ve learnt politically and for the human contacts and relationships I’ve made and built with the people who live around me. It is a real part of answering the questions: “What do we want and how/when/where do we want it?”

July marked a rough first anniversary of these “deuxième vendredis du mois”, so we killed the fatted calf, which was in fact a goat, and talked about how it had all been going. People brought films to watch, ones on factory-farmed food, on mobile phones and about scratching out a life on the margins of modern society.
Among the 30 or so people there, we decided to watch extracts of each rather than entire works, and to talk about each one in between. It was messy and initially unsatisfying for people like me who wanted to see whole works but also surprisingly fun and instructive in the end.

For the curious, the films were Nikolaus Geyrhalter’s “Our daily bread”, “Les glaneurs et la glaneuse” by Agnès Varda and “Téléphonie mobile, sommes-nous tous des cobayes?” by Joaquina Ferreira. What I like particularly about the third one is that it is offered for free download.

Practically, finding the films through the year and making sure something took place was a challenge, not least for the promised films that then never materialised and the need for French subtitling. Get-out-of-jails have included my own YouTube contributions and a seven-part YouTube hack of the film “Surplus” about the derangement of mass consumerism.

Faced with bad news all around and our powerlessness in the face of it, we naturally ask: “What can I do?” I think regular film screenings and debate are one small part of the answer, with carte blanche for organisers to beg, borrow and steal whatever it takes to get the events going. What helps here is that Montbrun has a small, free venue, run by the village association, allowing screenings at zero cost. The process will continue in some form in September, after the traditional French shutdown for August, though exactly how may depend on discussions at the Sabbar festival.

This takes place for the second year on August 3/4/5 after a relatively anarchic planning process since the last one. There will be films, debates, information tables and music all around the theme of resistance and struggle, where we live and elsewhere around the world. From my perspective, it is a chance to talk about alternative or free media and about the zapatista’s “other campaign”. I have helped cobble together a list of local media activists to come and talk about what they are doing and would like to do, which will gather on August 3 to plan how to cover the event and to take part. This, like the film nights, is a minute part of the process of answering the question of what sort of journalism and politics might help our societies improve.

Sabbar – a festival of resistance

June 6, 2007


Photo credit: Thomas

The following file, sabbar1.pdf, contains an invitation, in French, for political and social activists from anywhere in the world to come to a festival of resistance in SW France on the 3rd, 4th and 5th of August 2007 in Montbrun-Bocage 31, about 45 minutes south of Toulouse.

It’s the second appearance of what we organisers hope will become an annual event intended to bring together people involved in resistance, solidarity or global justice movements in France and from elsewhere around the planet. The intention is to build a network of links between different groups and to explore the need for such movements locally and globally. Each one on its own is unlikely to have much success in calling into question the problems created by the dominant system of economic management and consumption, which is to say capitalism itself and the mirage that is “free” markets.

The problem is too vast, too well rooted globally and too well funded to be manageable by any single movement working on any one small part of it. That is why we think it is essential to work at building links between movements, to share our experiences, good and bad, and to contribute in any way we can to a global vision of what’s at stake and what to do about it.

If you have any doubts about what is at stake, I would recommend getting hold of a copy of “The Corporation”, in book or DVD form, or watch what this man, John Perkins, has to say on Democracy Now! or read this G8 article by the author and activist George Monbiot.

See you in Montbrun maybe, where I hope to be part of a workshop on alternative media.

Footnote: the name “sabbar” comes from the prickly pear (Opuntia ficus-indica; O. tuna-blanca), found throughout the Mediterranean region. Itself a powerful symbol, the plant is also used to mark the boundaries around people’s land or fields. For the Palestinians who fled or were thrown from their homes in 1948, when their houses and villages were also destroyed, the cactus plants often stand as the sole reminder of their place there, a sign the Israel Defense Forces have found impossible to eradicate completely. Even today cactus stands reappear, signalling lands lost.

Watch this film

June 1, 2007


Interesting looking book, interesting looking film, with screenings around the UK detailed here.

The work gives a series of examples of how ordinary people’s civil liberties have been trampled. They could be you, they could be me.

The film’s website urges people to take action and also asks these three questions:

How can we get the government to sit up and take notice?
What can we do to get our voices heard?
What can we do to make people realise what is going on in front of own own eyes?

These are good questions.

In answer to the first, I would say: “Don’t kid yourself or waste your time, conventional politics is a farce.” We must start exploring and learning about real democracy instead, with a view to spreading it widely from the ground upwards.

For the second, films like this undoubtedly help but we need to go further by, for example, learning from the likes of the zapatistas in Mexico and from countless other movements in Latin America in particular. Though I haven’t yet read the book or seen the film, I wonder how well the human examples used illustrate their root cause, which is the poverty of our political system, as represented by the conventional right and left alike and as captured by big capital and capitalism. And no, the answer is not to resort to extremes on either side but to promote and practice deep democracy.

In answer to the third, I would suggest that we cease trying to follow the mainstream politicians and their daily PR shows, Sky News can cover the live events for all they’re worth to anyone. (Witness Blair’s day long I’m finally saying when I’ll leave announcement). We should direct our journalism towards alternatives to conventional government, towards people stepping outside the mainstream. Not just to victims of the state, as described in this film, but also to activists who are trying to do something outside the state and in spite of it.

It’s great to see films like this being made though. Good luck to it, with the minor caveat that I haven’t yet done more than watch the trailer and read the website details of the individual cases covered.

Vive la démocratie?

April 30, 2007

Had I still been at Reuters, my employer for 11 years up until 2005, I might have ended up in their Paris bureau covering the current French elections.

That would have thrown me into the election’s long build up over months, chasing after candidates, regurgitating their soundbites and trying to produce some sensible if superficial analysis of what the whole thing might mean for France’s future. This, the Reuters public output, is what I would have been doing.

It’s okay in a he-said-she-said sort of way, taking the temperature of the race and providing stand-back analysis of the main twists and turns. If you’re an investor, chafing about the value of your French stocks and bonds or your euro currency holdings, you get a decent enough idea of the latest developments and what’s at stake more widely. If you’re some other sort of civilian, you’ll get a free synopsis of events in a timely manner, albeit under bombardment from various pop-up ads for cars and financial services.

The coverage can’t however claim to be challenging or testing the system it describes, which is the least I would hope to see from journalists and journalism. Anything less means being little more than a court scribe.

I don’t work for Reuters anymore, which means no one is paying me to run around covering the campaign, which is a relief. My journalistic contribution is therefore a more modest, opportunistic one in the form of this French-language interview with former political prisoner Charlie Bauer, who spoke recently near where I live.

Bauer spent 25 years in jail for political acts of violence against the system. He is an eloquent speaker on democracy and revolution. He is insistent that elections are not to be dismissed as pointless exercises given that people fought and died for our right to vote. That doesn’t mean France, or my native Britain for that matter, is anything like a real democracy. He talks of the need to battle against sleepy servitude, of the need to avoid giving a green light to the eventual winner on May 6, be they of the so-called left or right.

He also speaks about the need to be critical of history, to use history to instruct the present and to construct the future, which includes re-inventing the meaning and practice of democracy. That is what he means by revolution, something that needs to be sought aggressively.

The interview would have gone down a storm with my former editors at Reuters, or rather wouldn’t have gone down at all.

Bauer features in a documentary « Marathonien de l’espoir », which you can access here.

The following is my rough translation of the synopsis.

At the end of the 50s, Charlie Bauer, a member of the Young Communists in France, breaks with the party line after its leaders voted in favour of allowing funds for military intervention in Algeria.

From then on, he becomes increasingly radicalised in his struggle against social injustices, practising propaganda through direct action, stealing and re-distributing goods, attacking a train and aiding deserters. He sides with the National Liberation Front against the colonial war in Algeria – re-directing and stealing arms, explosives, collecting funds…

He is arrested, tortured and spends 25 years in prison of which nine were in a high security unit. His intransigence, his radical ideas strengthened and even today, using the force of words, he fights against injustice and imprisonment in all their forms.

His message is revolutionary – using a refusal to submit and a fight for rights as his vehicle – practising the critical role he adopts as a sociologist.

New Standard RIP

April 24, 2007

jessica.jpg p1010013.jpg

This Friday, April 27, 2007, will see the last edition of The New Standard, a pioneering online reporting operation in the United States that tried to live its ideals through both its news, its collective employment set-up and its advert-free financial model. Sadly, it hasn’t worked out.

The staff, Jessica Azulay, Michelle Chen, Brian Dominick, Shreema Mehta
and Megan Tady, announce the news here. The bit I would pick out is this:

“… the five staffers who form the PeoplesNetWorks Collective – the nonhierarchical nonprofit that publishes TNS – have accepted that the news publication we envisioned cannot be achieved without a greater level of support. We do not believe we will be able to obtain that support in the foreseeable future, and as individuals, we have reached a point at which we are unable to sustain the long hours and stress that publishing TNS entails.”

I met Jessica and Brian (pictured above) when they lectured on the Z Media Institute alternative politics and journalism course in 2005. They were mines of information, humble, passionate – damn good basically. It’s a shame to see their project bite the dust. There will be a post mortem, and valuable lessons to be drawn for anyone interested in real journalism. They will re-emerge somewhere else, I have no doubt.

My own thought on the demise of TNS is that we didn’t do enough to support it and didn’t appreciate the boldness, novelty and importance of its efforts. My own, inadequate, journalism model for now is to do whatever it takes to provide my share of household inputs, and grab whatever spare time there is to report, blog and write talking about a revolution for free. Not great, but that’s all I have for now. That’s why I’m particularly sorry to see the TNS crowd shutting up shop.

Perhaps the reason I didn’t spend more time on the TNS site was that my take on alternative journalism is a bit different. In addition to the TNS efforts to provide an objective dissection of daily news, I am more inclined towards how we recalibrate news reporting to focus on the poor quality of our underlying political systems.

That would mean reporting that includes reference to the weakness of the underlying decision-making structures related to the story and presents what policies might result from using alternative structures. It would be hard work, and a challenge not to end up with very dull reports of use to no-one. The aim would be to de-power the voice of the few in favour of the powerless many (err, that’s us folks). Any report featuring politicians or policy would give equal if not more play to what ordinary people want, not just from opinion polls but also from ongoing participatory democracy sessions.

Sounds a bit wooly perhaps, I’ll work on it, but I hope you get the gist for now.

There is an alternative

April 19, 2007

180px-k022107au.jpg arton7111.jpg 158322742301_sclzzzzzzz_v44206047_aa240_.jpg

I am a native English speaker, living in France, trying to get my head around my personal politics and professional journalism, and vice versa. It means my source materials are in English and French, bit of an audience killer really, but there you have it.

In the political activism that engages me here, 45 minutes south of Toulouse, people often ask themselves the question: “What are the alternatives to capitalism?”

This picks up from Margaret Thatcher’s (pictured left, with her statue) infamous TINA, acronym for “there is no alternative”, the idea that “free” markets, “free” trade, and capitalist globalisation are our only option.

Tomorrow, I am going to a showing of “Marathonien de l’espoir” a film on the life of Charlie Bauer (pictured centre), a Frenchman who robbed shops and gave away the booty as an act of political protest against the system. That was his alternative. His prize? About 25 years in jail, including nine of them in solitary confinement.

Is that the way to act in opposition? I hope to find out from the man himself what he thinks now during the debate after Friday’s showing and maybe to get an interview with him to post up on YouTube. We’ll see. In the meantime, this is an excellent French-language podcast interview with Bauer.

Meanwhile, in English, Michael Albert of ZNET and parecon fame speaks on the excellent Democracy Now! about a life spent seeking such alternatives. You can watch a video, hear the audio or read the transcript here.

He was on the programme to promote his new book “Remembering Tomorrow – from SDS to a life after capitalism, a memoir”. It includes details of his decades-old relationship with Noam Chomsky.

My humble alternative, for the moment, is (slowly) writing a book on democracy and journalism at the same time as trying to have a life.

Frontline World – another journalism model?

March 30, 2007


I came across a short film called “Seeds of Suicide” today while researching Indian farmer deaths from the effects of trying to make a living by cultivating genetically modified cotton. GMOs are a big part of chapter 2 of my book, talking about a revolution, serving as a thread to explain the global justice movement’s anger towards multinational corporations and capital.

The film is a clean, 13-minute take on the problem of farmer suicide, explaining how they buy the technology without knowing about the necessary extra investment required to make the crops thrive and then run into big money problems when they fail. The filmmaker, Chad Heeter, also provides an in-depth background interview on the project, which is interesting and useful.

The film is part of an initiative, called Frontline World, by PBS in the United States. This is the private, non-profit corporation founded in 1969 whose members are the country’s public TV stations. Judging by their front page, Frontline has some excellent films that we don’t generally get on our TVs, not that I watch mine much here in France anyway.

My only concern is that there is a large ad by Shell on the front page, something that at the very least does not inspire my confidence in the robustness of its model.

Alternative journalism or same-old, same-old?

March 16, 2007


I have been half-chasing French activist José Bové around for a few months to interview him about the global justice movement and the links he draws between his own actions and those of other movements around the world. My intention is to use his remarks to kick off chapter 2 of “talking about a revolution”, which I’ve mostly written, tackling what the global justice movement is about. He’s a busy man, mixing GMO direct action protests with related court appearances and, now, a bid to become French president.

I myself have to juggle my book writing, which is unpaid and more like a personal research project, with being a father, husband, house-husband and sometime, I hope, money earner. That means my timetable can often seem as impossible to manage as that of Monsieur Bové, to me at least. So I jumped at the chance of a definite sighting of the Asterix-look-alike in court on March 7th, 2007, where he was due to appear along with four others accused of preventing Monsanto employees from going about their business.

This was the film, in French, that ensued.

It was interesting to go on a reporting assignment pretty much for the first time since I left Reuters in April 2005. Going as a video journalist was one thing, I’d done some TV work with them but had been mainly in print, going as an independent, without an agency deadline or editorial instructions, was another.

My loose objective was to meet Bové and to set up a future TV interview, sort of insane given that he is trying to run a presidential election campaign. I went with Corentin Charpentier from Tv Bruits, an independent TV association from Toulouse, who brought a camera and sound equipment.

The practicalities of this unpaid journalism work were a 280km-round trip by car, road toll costs of €7.80 each way and probably €25 in petrol. The time reporting was 12ish hours twice, plus editing and internet work of another 12 hours or so, say 36 person hours in total. We re-used an old DV tape and paid nothing in equipment rental.

We arrived at the Carcassonne court house without much in the way of a plan, just as Bové and the four other accused climbed the steps to the entrance. I didn’t know Corentin that well, had never worked with him before, and decided that I’d leave him to film the crowd while I disappeared into the court to see what was happening. I had my NUJ press card to blag my way past the police cordon and to allow passage of my basic digital camera into court to grab a few still pictures.

French courts, like British ones, don’t allow filming once the sitting judge is present though they do seem to give some freedom to take shots before and after proceedings. It would have been good to have known this in advance, or to have had two film cameras, as the courtroom and its surrounds proved the best place to get Bové for spot interviews. What we lost in courtroom footage we gained in protest shots, as Corentin captured all that as I sat in court.

I followed proceedings without any certainty as to what I would get – a news agency-style spot report, a feature article, nothing? The formality of the process struck me more than anything. The accused, all grown men, were called before the judge like so many naughty schoolboys to identify themselves and declare their monthly incomes and assets. The officious style would probably be intimidating to ordinary people but these ones are probably pretty used to it, having used non-violent direct action many times before.

I needn’t have worried about the story, which told itself in the end. Bové’s defence lawyer, François Roux, got up and laid into the prosecution for what seemed to be a fairly cut-and-dried case of a dodgy police report (we didn’t get to see it). He said it cited various people as having been at the Monsanto action on April 13, 2006 – whom he said hadn’t been there at all – and listed the presence of eight vehicles belonging to Bové, some of which had been scrapped years back. The prosecutor complained of not having been told of this earlier but said nothing as to the substance of Roux’s complaints, and proceedings adjourned. When the judge returned, he postponed ruling until March 21, ending the trial business for the day.

The basic story was that five people, part of a group of a few dozen who had conducted a “citizen’s inspection” of Monsanto’s Trèbes facility in southwest France, were accused of having prevented Monsanto employees from going about their daily work. This was a highly unusual use of a law forbidding interference with people doing their jobs, which generally relates to picketing activities. The penalty they risked included fines and possible prison terms. The five are all leading figures in the French “faucheurs volontaires” movement, who symbolically destroy GMO crops and seeds in protest against their cultivation in France. Bové, the best-known of the five, is also running for president, though as yet he lacks the necessary political support to stand as a candidate.

The day’s proceedings didn’t add much in concrete terms to the broad story of GMOs and would not, probably, have made the grade as far a Reuters TV news piece was concerned. The story elements that motivate Reuters generally relate to politics, or rather political risk from an investment perspective, in this instance the French presidential elections. Another would be the involvement of Monsanto, a publicly listed company. There might also be some general news mileage in the fact that Bové is a media personality in his own right and also in the GMO story itself. None of these would be particularly compelling for Reuters editors, though, or certainly not sufficiently so to hire a crew locally or to send one down from Paris. The same would be true, for a variety of reasons, of Reuters’s opposition outlets Bloomberg, AP and the rest of the international media with a presence in France.

That leaves the field to the national, francophone media, the newspapers, radio and TV outlets, even just the regional and local ones. Their focus, however, would tend to be on the narrow politics of the case in a French context rather than the broader global story of GMOs, which is the kernel of this story. So what is lacking in all this is the richer, subtler, contextualised coverage of proceedings. That is where alternative journalists and alternative journalism can shine and where it is sorely needed.

These subtler elements, routinely missed or ignored by conventional media, are what interest me. I can hear the Reuters editorial grunts about a story such as this, essentially justified by reference to a core target audience of investors and financial markets. These are the drivers of Reuters resource allocation decisions, which govern what gets covered.

Do these editors and others like them also ignore these questions because of censorship, conscious or unconscious? Is there an unseen hand, a hidden conspiracy among those in the mainstream media to shield us from reality? Who knows and, frankly, why would we be surprised if there were? I am more interested in thinking about how we can fill the information vacuums they and others manage to leave unfilled despite their prodigious daily outpourings.

The questions I wanted to answer this day in Carcassonne were: Who were the accused? Why were they doing what they were doing? What did that say about the state of French democracy and about GMOs in Europe? Why had they bypassed conventional political means to achieve their ends? What was the nature of the French justice system that examined their actions? What was a presidential candidate doing in a junior French court on such charges? The way I chose to address these questions was by using an extended interview with one of the accused, Michel David and excerpts from various other actors.

The film I produced was my first, imperfect stab at alternative news. As described above, it was done pretty much on the fly. It comes without a commentary, mainly because I believe people can speak for themselves. What interests me is having them explain why they do what they do and showing the heavily policed context in which they do so. It is about showing the old grannies, the mothers with children marching in the rain on a weekday to protest against something that most French people don’t want.

From a practical perspective, the film mixes shots and still pictures taken on the day with some archive digital photos I took at a Monsanto demonstration at the same site in December 2005, something I clearly flag on the film itself. I edited it on Final Cut Pro, exported the result to Quicktime and then out to the wider world as a compressed .mov file which I loaded onto YouTube.

I wondered about including a response from Monsanto but decided against it for two reasons. The first was that they get plenty of mileage for their views already, via mainstream political support, conventional media “balance”, broad industry front groups such as Europabio and the rest. The second is that, despite being a multi-billion-dollar multinational, their French website publishes no email address or telephone number for media contacts, inviting the curious to write by conventional mail instead. Right! Very 21st century. If you’re interested, this was their press release on the day of the trial.

Finally, the film is in French. I’m a native English speaker without the facility to write fluently in French, so that’s the way it has to be with my journalism for now. I could subtitle the thing but I feel there are more important things to do with my time.