The impact of coups on the Pacific's local reporters
The recent PINA convention boasted a strong line-up of journos from Fiji and Solomon Islands, with a bit to say on the subject of human rights. Radio Australia’s Pacific Beat host Geraldine Coutts reports.

When I looked at the program of speakers listed for the recent Pacific Islands News Association, or PINA, convention in Solomon Islands, I thought 'yeah the Friday morning session on Human Rights looks interesting'. It boasted a strong line-up of journos from Fiji and Solomon Islands, they would probably have a bit to say on the subject of human rights.

It was a gripping session which reduced some to tears and prompted others to question their own ethics, and commitment to the essential ingredients needed for democratic institutions to survive.

How affordable so many miles away from Suva are our values regarding media freedom, and how cheap righteous indignation is.

When news of the December 5 coup in Fiji broke, I - like most employed in the media - was shocked into action. My mind raced... man this is the fourth coup in 20 years. Fiji's coup culture. Australia, New Zealand, the UN and this time the United States indignation about the abrogation against the rule of law, and the importance of democratically elected governments. The imposition of sanctions by Australia and NZ, The Commonwealth, once again, suspending Fiji's membership.

All important headlines, and all essential ingredients in this hiccup in Fiji's political history. But distractions nonetheless from some of the major issues.

How busy we all got. The military with its clean-up campaign, stating that the coup is a good thing for Fiji, and the media trying to intrepret the coup.

As events moved on we learnt that lawyers, senior members of the public service, human rights activists, members of Qarase government and members of GCC secretariat were all saying the same thing in response to requests for interviews, no comment. As the list of people required to keep the military's appointments at the Queen Elizabeth Barracks grew, the silence also became profound.

Rumours of the insidiousness threats by the military were also widespread. We now know that the threats were/are indirectly being aimed at the families of the prominent citizens interviewed by the military.

Within days of the coup it was abundantly clear that, driven by fear, many journalists and critics of the coup became self censoring. Some were willing to speak off the record, but many more for reasons of self-preservation remained silent.

That was until the delegation from Fiji broke its silence at the PINA Convention in Solomon Islands, where in fact, they did have a good deal to say about human rights.

We heard graphic stories about the fallout for the MP's, journalists and staff at parliament house who were held hostage for 56 days during the 2000 coup. We heard some detailed personal accounts by journalists who were ordered to attend QEB after the December coup.

We heard that a photographer from the Fiji Times, who was one of the hostages of the 2000 coup, succumbed some time after to the mental pressures of having been held captive in such a hostile environment. He's now in jail having bombed his own house. Prior to this act he was widely regarded as a pacifist, a man who would not knowingly stand on ants.

Another journalist described his phone call from the military ordering him to present to the QEB at 9am following morning. At the gate he was told to hand over his mobile phone and keys, and to go and sit in the cell down the corridor. He was intimidated, spat on, but not beaten. He was told to sit on the floor where he became very aware of the gun strapped to the thigh of his military investigator. The ordeal lasted an hour and a half.

We heard from a journalist whose son is in the military, and how the problems facing the nation are discussed only when his soldier son leaves the family home.

In assessing the short and long term impact of Fiji's coups, the obvious are a down turn in business and tourism. But the greatest long term cost is the impact on the people, which goes largely unrecognised, untreated and unreported.

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