Summary
Cover story 2: Media Special Report - Cover Story
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Extract
In the land of the 'saints'.
Britain recently led the cavalry against Zimbabwe's new media act. But how does it square with Britain's own Treason Felony Act 1848, which threatens anyone advocating the downfall of the monarchy to be "deported for the term of his or her natural life"?
If recent reports by the "international" media are to be believed, Zimbabwe is the only country to have thought about introducing a "draconian" law on access to information, protecdon of privacy and freedom of expression. It is all very good that any attempt by any country to muzzle the media and free speech is attacked. But for the attack to be meaningful and noble, the critics themselves must not be doing the same thing in their own countries. In fact, they must have clean hands. Sadly, in the case of Zimbabwe's new bill, some of the critics, particularly Britain, did not, and do not, have clean hands. For proof, you don't have to look beyond the 6 December 2000 issue of The Guardian (London). On the front page of that day's issue (reproduced here for easy reference), the paper reported: "The Treason Felony Act 1848... threatens that anyone imagining or publishing anything which might lead to the Queen's downfall should be deported for life. "Today and over the next few days, [this] paper is running a number of articles advocating republicanism [in Britain], despite...[the] outdated statute, the Treason Felony Act 1848, which threatens anyone doing so with deportation for the term of his or her natural life.'" And then came the rub: "The paper's editor, Alan Rusbridger," The Guardian revealed, "wrote last week to the attorney general, Lord Williams of Mostyn, asking for an assurance that he will not be prosecuted, given that he has no intention of advocating overthrow of the monarchy by force. "In his letter, [the editor] argued that the Treason Felony Act breaches Article 10 of the European Convention, the right to freedom of expression. "He suggested the attorney general might ask the high court to reinterpret the Treason Felony Act so that only calls to overthrow the monarchy by violence would be an offence. He offered the paper's support in the application. "Lord Williams replied: 'I hope you understand that neither David Calvert-Smith [the director of public prosecutions] nor I can give you an assurance regarding whether or not a prosecution or other action will be taken. You are asking me to take action which sanctions in advance conduct which may be criminal. You should take your own legal advice, then decide for yourself whether you will follow it'." Lord Williams was writing in the year of our Lord 2000. His message was clear. The Treason Felony Act maybe 153 years old, but you break it at your own peril. So The Guardian, as obedient to the law as all the other sections of the British media, had to wait until Britain had incorporated the European Human Rights Act into its own law in October 2000, before daring to publish its series advocating republicanism (or the downfall of the monarchy). "The Human Rights Act," the paper even added for good measure, "gives UK judges power for the first time to reinterpret statutes to make them compatible 'so far as possible' with the European Convention." In effect, instead of going ahead to publish damn the consequences (a huge lesson for African journalists), The Guardian hid behind the protection afforded by the European Convention before publishing the series. And this was in the year 2000! If it had published the articles before Britain incorporated the European Human Rights Act into its law, The Guardian and its editor could have been strung up, under the Treason Felony Act 1848. That was what the attorney general, Lord Williams, said in so many words. The director of public prosecutions, now knowing that the law is nor on his side, has remained silent since the publication. In fact, The Guardian did not wai...See the full content of this document
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