The year 2007 was a rollercoaster ride for the fledging electronic media.

“This is really a very positive step,” says Asma Shirazi, responding to the political leadership’s move of easing the clampdown on media by President Pervez Musharraf after the imposition of emergency on November 3, 2007. Shirazi, a special correspondent with ARY OneWorld, was among the six anchors, and the only woman, who was banned from appearing on TV even after the channel resumed transmission.

Information minister Sherry Rehman introduced amendments to the Pakistan Electronic Media Authority (Amendment) Bill in parliament early last month to end a ban on live broadcasts and to scrap punishments for journalists who “defame” the president, the government or the army. Those failing to comply could face a three-year prison term and fines to the tune of Rs5 million.

“The lifting of restrictions has come with the new democratic dispensation and this was the result of a combined struggle of the media, lawyers and civil society. Lawyers deserve the most credit,” says veteran journalist Ghazi Salahuddin.

But, Mazhar Abbas, secretary-general of the Pakistan Federal Union of Journalists, is not fully satisfied and feels there is still “much more that needs to be done”. The union wants constitutional guarantees for freedom of the press and feels that even Article 19 of the constitution is vague. It wants all “black laws” to be scrapped and the seventh Wage Board Award that remains “pending for the last seven years” to be implemented.

The lifting of restrictions has also been hailed internationally. The International Federation of Journalists (IFJ) termed it as signaling of the start of a “new era” for independent journalism in Pakistan.

Following the imposition of emergency, Pakistan’s burgeoning television industry, (comprising more than 40 independent channels, of which 30 are geared towards providing news and current affairs’ programmes) was jack-booted by the president and transmission was blocked. The only channel not in the general’s cross hair was the state-owned Pakistan Television (PTV).

“So far the new government seems to be very open and accepting. But then even the media is going easy on them. Perhaps the media is waiting for the 100-day period to expire before it lets itself loose,” says a watchful Shirazi, adding, “We will know if they [the new government] have the nerve to stomach criticism, otherwise the same episode of media curbs will be put back on us again.”

She was referring to the number of attacks followed by a clampdown on the media last year. After enjoying relative freedom under Musharraf’s eight-year-old regime, the electronic media suddenly found itself swamped in a hostile environment.

“Last year, the electronic media played a revolutionary role by just providing a graphic coverage of the lawyers’ struggle,” is how Salahuddin views the year in retrospect. “The struggle was unique and its coverage certified the power of the electronic media. Hence it was a bright year for the electronic media, though its basic limitations -- not enough research or attention to the process of social change -- remained.”

Things came to a head on March 16 when TV cameras showed (live) lawyers demonstrating in front of the Supreme Court in Islamabad against the March 9 suspension of Chief Justice Iftikhar Mohammad Chaudhry. Cameras suddenly panned to show a police raid on the premises of Geo television. In an attempt to muffle the press, the police were seen going on a rampage, smashing furniture, window panes and roughing up the channel’s staff. Musharraf later apologised for the assault.

Meanwhile, the APNS distributed a letter accusing the general of becoming “increasingly intolerant” of any criticism in the press. The statement added that the government pulled out its advertisements in an attempt to tame the newspapers and to discourage any negative coverage of the government.

“This (the police attack) is a sabotage of whatever we stand for or whatever we are doing,” President Musharraf responded after the attack on the channel. “The main strength of my reforms is freedom of speech, freedom of expression and freedom of the media. This is our mandate.” But the president’s rhetoric did not find many takers.

According to the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan’s (HRCP) annual State of Human Rights in 2007, Pakistan’s standing plummeted with at least seven journalists killed, 73 injured (mostly by police), and 250 reporters arrested for covering anti-government protests or demonstrating against media restrictions.

Nevertheless, the media did put up a good fight. “In some ways, it was a year that had many defining moments. It showed resilience and the ability to survive against the onslaught of the executive,” says HRCP’s Zohra Yusuf. However, she points out, “It did not mature as a medium and sensationalism, unfounded news and biases were some of the negative aspects.”

Salahuddin nods in agreement to media being feisty. “By the time the general decided to take action on November 3, the media had been made aware of its strength and was not willing to submit to the establishment.” And perhaps the media got its strength from the fraternity remaining united like “it had never been” before.

Relations between the media and the general had begun to sour after the way media covered the 2005 earthquake. The government was put on the defensive a second time after the way the media covered the May 12, 2007 Karachi riots following the suspension of Mr Chaudhry as the chief justice.

The government is also said to have frowned on the media’s becoming active negotiators with militants who had overtaken the Lal Masjid in Islamabad in July, 2007. The government siege resulted in many people killed and hundreds injured. But September 29, 2007 was perhaps the blackest day for the media when it was attacked by the baton-wielding enraged police in front of the office of the Election Commission of Pakistan. According to the PFUJ, 29 journalists were injured that day.

The media was stopped from covering live protests by lawyers and opposition activists against filing of Musharraf’s presidential nomination papers.

During this period of the government’s high-handedness, many a media house buckled under government pressure. They were seen acquiescing and bowing down to the government’s demands to follow the code of conduct.

“Journalists were united but not the broadcasters. The ban would have lifted in due course had the Pakistan Broadcasting Association responded to the PFUJ appeal for strike or joint action. But they went and signed the highly controversial code of conduct,” alleges Mazhar Abbas. So while the owners lent moral support, according to him, their role was by and large disappointing.

Yusuf, however, thinks otherwise. “TV channel owners were (unexpectedly) very supportive of their staff. Geo lost billions while suspended.” However, she agrees that compromises were made with talk show hosts.

“Television owners were really supportive and suffered huge losses in the process,” agrees Salahuddin. “They also supported their employees and the ‘banned’ hosts have all returned and no one was fired to please the authorities.”

But the winners were still the banned but indomitable talk show hosts who refused to cower down. When their talk shows were pulled off air, they decided to take them to the streets. Hamid Mir’s Capital Talk and Talat Hussain’s Live with Talat became crowd pullers in their own right.

The symbolism of their road shows underlined the difficulties the electronic media was facing because of government policy. At the same time this in-your-face attitude demonstrated all that the rebel league had up their sleeves.

Nusrat Javeed, another banned TV journalist, concedes to the media resorting to “overstepping” or at times acting “irresponsibly” due to the “extraordinary situation” prevailing in the country last year. He, however, feels the unbridled power that the media wields must be handled with care and responsibly by the fledgling industry.