How Terrorism Makes Life Harder for Hacks

Andrew Collier: It's been quite a festive season for news. First, we had the surreal spectacle of the Pope being decked by a Swiss cuckoo case during Christmas midnight mass at the Vatican.

Then, hours later, the world was gripped by the even more bizarre antics of another religious disciple who tried to bring down a transatlantic plane with his Jihad kit of a syringe and a set of exploding underpants.

While such incidents were both potentially very serious indeed, it’s hard for anyone who shares the congenital cynicism and black humour of most hacks not to guffaw at the sheer absurdity of such pantomimic events.

The trouble is, though, that as journalists, the laugh is actually on us. We are one of the groups in society to suffer most from modern incidents of terrorism. The reaction by politicians and the authorities to such attacks is usually a kneejerk one: ill-considered, self-serving, without logic, and aimed at covering up their own failings.

Intelligence gathering and open debate tend to be mutually exclusive, so it’s no surprise that the response of state agencies to acts of terrorism is to exert control, shift blame, and close down subversion where possible. Another prime response is also to make scapegoats of those who challenge their established order.

All this is, of course, bad news for journalists. In truth, even most democratic societies regard newsgatherers, and particularly foreign ones, as a nuisance. We poke about in dark corners. We explain, expose, debate and analyse. We’re infuriatingly opinionated. Most governments don’t need much of an excuse to try and control or shackle us.

This doesn’t just play out - and I don’t decry the seriousness of these incidents - in the regular stories we read, in publications such as the NUJ's Journalist magazine, about reporters being harassed and jailed in countries such as Iran and China. In a more low level but still worrying way, it’s directly affecting the work we in the UK and Scotland do too.

A couple of years ago, after months of trying, I managed to arrange an interview with the Episcopalian Bishop of New Hampshire, Gene Robinson. He is a global and highly controversial religious figure because he is the first openly gay primate within Anglicanism, and is at the centre of the current row which threatens to blow the Communion apart.

Robinson agreed to meet me in his diocesan office in the pretty New England town of Concord. I didn’t have a commission, but know it would be a fabulous piece: during the trip I could absorb the colour of the place, get a real sense of his spiritual background and mission, and talk to both his supporters and opponents. I’d have no problem selling such an article.

Only it wasn’t to be. I quickly discovered that new US immigration rules introduced after 9/11 required working journalists to apply for special, co-called 'I' category visas in order to carry out assignments in the States. In the case of a freelance such as me, they needed not only a letter of commission giving details of the specific job and stating I was under contract to complete it, but also a personal interview with a visa officer at the US Embassy in London (the consulate in Edinburgh no longer handles visa applications).

So that would mean a visa application fee of nearly £100; travel to, from and within London (say £130); and - as these interviews are held early in the day - overnight hotel accommodation and subsistence (say £150). So I’d be looking at forking out nearly £400 of my own money - plus taking nearly half a week off work - just to get permission to travel.

Naturally, I briefly contemplated ignoring all this and quietly travelling as a tourist, which doesn’t require any visa. But I quickly gave up on that notion after reading horror stories about other journalists who had tried doing this and had been caught. They had been handcuffed, jailed, their re-entry permission invalidated and then pitched onto the first available plane out of the country. The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave doesn’t treat visa irregularities, even from citizens of friendly countries, lightly.

The whole thing suddenly seemed more trouble and cost than it was worth. Instead, I met Robinson when he came to London. It was still a terrific interview and was snapped up by The Scotsman and others, but it lacked the depth and bigger picture which would have come from talking to him on home soil.

The irony is that the USA has by no means the worst and most pedantic rules when it comes to foreign journalists reporting within its borders. It is, for instance, prepared to let you travel visa-free as a journalist if you’re genuinely only going for a holiday.

It just surprises me that it requires newsgatherers to have the same sort of formal pre-qualification you’d expect to need in countries such as Saudi Arabia, North Korea and Iran. And it’s not the only developed democracy taking this line.

India, for instance, is even tougher - the very word ‘journalist’ seems to set all sorts of alarm signals flashing. Even if you just want to go on a week’s holiday to Goa, for instance, they’ll demand that you get a formal letter from your employer confirming you won’t be involved in any newsgathering. (I’m not sure how freelances get around that one, but it’s not a situation I’ve yet had to encounter).

While the US definition of a journalist is precise - Reality TV producers, for instance, are directed to a normal business visa instead of an 'I category' one as their output isn’t considered ‘informational’ - the Indian one casts a very wide net indeed. It’s said that they demand media visas even for support staff providing film catering facilities.

Unfortunately, as more terrorist acts are committed, it seems likely that the rules will get tougher yet. Still, let’s look on the bright side. There are now 27 countries in the EU, and you don’t need permission to work as a journalist, let alone a visa, in any of them.

There are plenty of rich news pickings to be found there. And it’s never been easier to languish in a shady bar in Rome, Prague, Sofia or Bucharest, sliding your shot glass over to the barman while telling the smiling blonde next to you: “Me? I’m a foreign correspondent….”

Andrew Collier is a freelance writer, broadcaster and media consultant. He is based in Edinburgh and has more than 30 years' experience covering Scottish affairs.