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SEVERAL years ago, on a visit to New Delhi, I was asked to speak to the editorial staff of the Times of India. Over a cup of tea with my Indian colleagues, I was told of a particularly crass intervention by the newspaper’s owner.
Apparently, he had asked the editor why he should not be selling ads in the space allotted for op-ed columns. At the time, I joined in the laughter at this vulgar attempt to commercialise a sacred part of any newspaper.
But since then, I have occasionally wondered why this was such a bad idea, even though its implementation would put me out of work. Originally, the term ‘op-ed’ stood for ‘opposite the editorial page’. In the 1920s, an American editor decided to invite guest writers to contribute articles here. This idea swiftly caught on around the world, and now, ‘op-ed’ stands for ‘opinions/editorials’.
Cuts often upset writers who feel their columns have been ruined.
Initially, op-ed writers were never members of the editorial team, but columnists who criticised and commented on government policies, social trends and a wide range of subjects independently of editorial policy. The idea was to give readers a spectrum of opinions not reflected in the newspaper’s editorials.
Most newspapers have a vision reflected in both their news coverage and their editorials. Even when it is not clearly enunciated, readers are aware of what a publication stands for, and usually read the paper most in line with their own thinking. This one is known for its support of democratic, liberal and secular values, and that’s why I am comfortable writing for it.
However, this does not mean that the editors and I always see eye to eye on specific issues, and this creative tension between editors and op-ed writers hopefully makes for more interesting columns. I have always thought that op-ed pages should be a slightly anarchic space where free thinking is encouraged.
On the other hand, spare a thought for the editors: who wants a contempt of court summons? Here, let me confess that I once triggered just such proceedings when a column of mine caused the late editor of this newspaper, the legendary Ahmad Ali Khan, to appear before the chief justice of the Supreme Court. To his great credit, Khan Sahib instructed Dawn’s lawyers not to divulge the real identity of Mazdak — my pseudonym at the time — to the judge. Also in my corner was Ardeshir Cowasjee who appeared with a senior lawyer. Me? I was on holiday up in Gilgit.
The point is that no editor would want to be in such a situation, and so uses his or her blue pencil to cut out portions of columns that could be libellous or be interpreted as contempt. Nor does any editor want a posse of clerics harassing his staff, or indeed the Taliban bombing his offices. And in Karachi, all journalists are all too aware of the MQM’s track record of intimidation of the media.
All these constraints restrict the freedom to comment. But cuts often upset writers who feel their finely wrought columns have been ruined by unfeeling editors. These tensions and disagreements between op-ed writers and editors exist in newspapers around the world.
But another trend that has become increasingly common is for the op-ed page to become an amplification chamber for editorial policy. Here, staff writers and columnists echo the line the newspaper has adopted. The drawback is that readers are denied a wide range of views, the original purpose of the op-ed page.
By playing it safe, diversity and liveliness are replaced by a certain bland sameness. After all, what staff writer would disagree with his editor’s views in print? And in too many cases — fortunately not at this paper — the owner’s commercial interests and ideological leanings outweigh editorial independence. So if a corporation advertises heavily, it would unlikely be the subject of an investigative report.
There are thus many reasons for playing it safe. However, as a freelance columnist, I have tried to test the limits and push the boundaries. Every now and then, I run into reality. The late Majeed Sahib, the wise and gentle editor of this page for many years until he lost his eyesight, once said to me after one of our periodic fights over cuts: “Irfan Sahib, I can only give you the freedom I have. No more, but no less.”
Over the years, I have written for many publications, and have dealt with many editors, including I.H. Burney of the iconic weekly, Outlook. I have learned much about the workings of the print media, and the constraints editors work under. The fearless ones have often put their publications on the line for their principles, and we are better off today as a result.
There is a fine line between what’s safe and what’s right. The great editors know how to tread it bravely and gracefully.
Published in Dawn, March 14th, 2015
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