The mission of journalists is to reveal the truth

Photo courtesy of Mykola Semena

The official Soviet narrative demonised Crimean Tatars as raiders and slave traders. Many in Crimea supported the official point of view that all Crimean Tatars should be recognised as traitors if some of them collaborated with the Nazis during the Second World War. They were not perplexed by the fact that only Crimean Tatars were chosen to be punished for collaboration with the Nazi occupation forces, despite cases of treachery among the Russian, Ukrainian, Bulgarian and Greek populations of Crimea. So, when in 1989 Soviet officials condemned the deportation of Crimean Tatars and they were allowed to resettle, the Crimean population was very cautious about it. The communist authorities intimidated the locals through lies that Crimean Tatars would hold “nights of slaughter”, seeking revenge for their exile. It was recommended not to let children outside on their own. I know that some people were doing nightshifts at the entrances to their villages in order not to let strangers in.

To learn an accurate history of this ethnic group, I got in touch with Crimean Tatar historians and leaders of their national movement. Because we were publishing articles that they wrote for our newspaper, we were heavily criticised by the Communist Party. People should know the other side of the story – this was our defence. Journalists envisioned their mission as spreading the truth about the complex history of Crimean Tatars. Over time, people understood that Crimean Tatars are ordinary people who would have been their neighbours if it was not for the deportation.

How did the journalists help Crimean Tatars tackle their everyday problems?

We covered their protests demanding the return of the property that belonged to their families before the deportation. They lost 400 million Soviet roubles worth of property, according to the self-census that Crimean Tatar activists undertook. It includes houses, cattle, land and equipment for land cultivation. The Soviet authorities suggested resettling Crimean Tatars in new towns that they would construct for them in Crimea. There would be all the infrastructure they would need – accommodation, schools, hospitals. Mustafa Dzhemilev, one of the leaders of the Crimean Tatar national movement, gave a sharp response: “You sent us into exile overnight and now want to return us over the course of 20 years?” This resettlement programme failed to secure the approval of Crimean Tatars. Following this, the government distanced itself from the problem, as if it did not exist.

Then Dzhemilev urged Crimean Tatars to return to Crimea on their own and stay with their relatives. Some people retook the lands that belonged to their families before deportation. They considered it “self-resettlement”, while the state argued it was an illegal appropriation of state land. However, this self-resettlement of land was not a chaotic process. Crimean Tatars held informal consultations with the local land offices about which pieces of land they could take, so that there would not be any pipelines or high-voltage lines present. In exchange for the consultations, officials expected them to take over extra pieces of land for themselves, as the Soviet authorities solved land attribution issues neither for Crimean Tatars nor any other citizens. Over time, the local authorities did recognise self-resettlement as legal. More than 300 areas of compact settlement for the minority were formed in Crimea this way.

Have you encountered someone who managed to win back their family property?

In the 1990s, one Crimean Tatar family who had a land case in the courts reached out to me. During the night of May 18th 1944, when soldiers appeared on their doorstep, their grandmother, who worked as an accountant, grabbed all the documents they had, including house papers. So, having returned to Crimea in the late 1980s, that family even had the official house register confirming their residence in that house. But the city council refused their house claim as other people had already been residing there. The new residents also refused to talk to the old owners of the house. This was a typical case at that time. Then that family filed a case in the courts but this was denied because the existing Ukrainian law could not regulate the issue. Having displaced the Tatars, the Soviets did not bother to make the appropriation of their property legal. People were just deported, and their property was just sold. After the war, you could find warehouses full of items from the houses of Crimean Tatars for sale in Simferopol. As a result, the authorities of independent Ukraine did not have any legal framework to prove that the Soviet officials confiscated the property of Crimean Tatars against the law.

Ukraine has a rich ethnic composition. Not only Crimean Tatars but Russians are living there, which have more than once served as a formal pretext for Putin to attack Ukraine. Yet in one of your articles, you speak of “a multinational Ukrainian nation, including Russians”.

For many years Russia used the resettlement of ethnic Russians in these confiscated territories as a means of colonisation. Russians were resettled to Donbas, deserted after the famine of the 1930s; to Crimea, deserted after the deportation of the Tatars; to western Ukraine after the dekulakisation, famine of the 1930s, and the post-war repressions. Many Soviet officers chose to settle in Ukraine after retirement. Having gained its independence, Ukraine has demonstrated more tolerance towards them than the Baltic countries, where the populations of Russian origin were declared stateless. Granting citizenship rights to any patriot of Ukraine, regardless of their nationality, reason for settling in Ukraine, or knowledge of the Ukrainian language, was critical for us. So, in addition to Ukrainians as an ethnic community, there is a multinational Ukrainian political nation that includes the ethnic Russians living in Ukraine that make up 18 per cent of the population. Russians and Ukrainians now fight together in the Ukrainian army. Of course, there are those who have abused this tolerance to promote Russian interests on Ukrainian territory, but this is something we have yet to learn from.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, you were one of the founders of Crimea’s first Ukrainian-language newspaper, Krymska svitlitsya. What were the circumstances in which it appeared?

At the beginning of the 1990s, Crimea was mentally a pro-Russian region, although 25 per cent of its population was made up of ethnic Ukrainians. There was not a single school or kindergarten where Ukrainian would be the language of instruction. Ukrainians needed unification. A newspaper in the Ukrainian language could help like-minded people to find each other. The only printed publication in Ukrainian in Crimea at that time was a Ukrainian-language version of a local Russian-language newspaper, which had a meagre circulation of one thousand copies. Our publication became popular even among subscribers outside of Crimea. It discussed the social and political matters that concerned our audience the most in times of such socio-political transformation.

Is it the reason why one of your colleagues said that your articles “were strikingly pro-Ukrainian, which was rare among Crimean journalists”?

This was simply due to the situation in Crimea. Just to write the truth about Crimea is enough to be labelled a “pro-Ukrainian journalist”. For me, the truth is that Ukraine and Crimea have always been close to each other. Even Nikita Khrushchev justified the transfer of Crimea to Ukraine in 1954 by their proximity. The current Crimea is, by and large, Ukraine’s brainchild as it rebuilt its infrastructure in its present form after the Second World War. For Russia, Crimea has always been of interest only as an “unsinkable aircraft carrier”. Crimeans, particularly politicians, live in a distorted reality. They fantasise about the idea that Crimea is self-sufficient and ignore the fact that Crimea survives solely on state subsidies, which amount to 65 to 75 per cent of its budget, previously from Ukraine and now from Russia. They believe that Crimea is a world hub. For instance, they like to say that the decision to create the UN was made in Yalta at the 1945 conference. It is worth recalling the UN Charter and its relationship with the San Francisco conference in these circumstances. By highlighting such events, you are already a pro-Ukrainian “enemy of Crimea”.

Unlike Crimea’s economic dependence, the conditions under which Crimean journalists work have changed drastically since 2014. Did these changes match your expectations?

Before 2014, hundreds of Ukrainian, Russian and European journalists who worked in Crimea had freedom of speech, official accreditations, could freely interview any official and obtain information and copies of official documents from the press services. In February and March 2014, we believed that the international community would quickly make Russia respect international law and that we would not have to face any changes. However, things deteriorated very fast. As the local TV and radio centre was seized by Russians, local broadcasting was switched to the Russian media. Newspapers and magazines were forced to redo all their paperwork according to the Russian legal framework for print media. Journalists frequently reported leaflets with “The enemy of Crimea lives here” written on them glued to the walls of their residential buildings. The Crimean Tatar ATR channel and the Black Sea TV company were expelled from the peninsula, as were the Kyiv media corps, Radio Liberty journalists, and correspondents and freelancers from the BBC, DW and AR. According to the Crimean media registration committees, formerly Ukrainian and now Russian, more than 1,500 media outlets were registered in Crimea during the Ukrainian period. Since the occupation, little more than 100 remained, including small regional publications. The occupation authorities have no use of honest journalism.

What information in Crimea has become inaccessible for the journalists?

We were banned from attending official press conferences and meetings, denied access to official documents and press releases. The formal reason was that those Crimean journalists who did not recognise Crimea as a part of Russia refused to receive accreditation with the Russian occupation authorities. Ukrainian journalists also refused to receive accreditation through the Russian foreign ministry to work in their own country, because this is nonsense. However, some independent Russian media still managed to send journalists to Crimea. They visited courts, gathered information, and wrote unbiased reports after leaving the peninsula. However, Russian intelligence soon cracked down on them. Dozens of journalists were banned from entering the Russian Federation, by which the Russian authorities also meant prohibiting them from entering Crimea. For instance, Taras Ibragimov, a correspondent for Public Television of Ukraine, was banned for 35 years. Having occupied Crimea, the Russian authorities banned commemoration of the victims of deportation on May 18th 2014. Waclaw Radziwinowicz, Moscow correspondent of Gazeta Wyborcza, had flown to Crimea to report on the commemoration events but was detained, expelled from Crimea, and subsequently stripped of his accreditation in Moscow. According to Vladimir Pritula, editor of “Crimea.Realities”, a Radio Liberty project that I am working with, out of more than 60 journalists that collaborated with the project over the last eight years, half chose to stop cooperation due to repressions. However, more than three dozen other journalists are still finding ways to continue. 

How do Ukrainian and international media get information from Crimea then?

Citizen journalism has become a deal breaker. Ordinary people are going live on social media and on media websites during public gatherings, mass events, trials against Tatar Muslims. However, the occupation authorities have responded by prosecuting them on trumped-up charges. Till now, 11 Crimean citizen journalists have been sentenced from eight to 18 years of imprisonment. They are falsely accused of terrorism, extremism and plans to overthrow the government. Russia has ignored the fact that many of these people have accreditation from the European Federation of Journalists, which entitles them to work as journalists on its territory. Of course, the repression did not affect those Crimean journalists who decided to serve the occupying authorities. Independent foreign correspondents have been replaced by foreign journalists and bloggers hired by the occupation authorities. Of course, they portray the situation in Crimea in a favourable light.

Do you think Crimean journalists who work for pro-government media are sincere?

Yes, I think with a few cynical exceptions, most of them are sincere in their own way. I know a journalist who wrote at the beginning of the annexation that Crimeans wanted to be part of Russia because of a favourable sense of belonging to a more powerful state. This excuse gives an impression of a small and weak gopnik being proud that a strong and armed thug promises to protect him. The truth is that current events in Ukraine do not fit into this picture. Many Russians admitted they were ashamed of being Russians, as “more powerful Russia” turned out to be a colossus on clay feet. It is being accused of genocide and violations of the rules and customs of war, of killing civilians. The International Criminal Court is involved in the investigation of Russia’s crimes; there is talk of creating a special tribunal. They are confused, but they still hope that either nuclear missiles or a war of attrition will bring victory to Russia. I think what worked in the 18th century will not work in the 21st. I do not know what people who approve Russia’s war, including journalists, will feel when the global community places even more pressure on this dictatorial regime. 

What does a Ukrainian journalist feel when the Russian occupation authorities come to his city?

It is a constant fear for our freedom and lives, as all communication channels that journalists were using were monitored. All telephone networks were switched over to Russian telecommunications companies. Internet providers were forced to transfer personal data to Russian intelligence. We found a surveillance camera right above the door of our office. After having moved the office to a private house, we found surveillance there too.

Shortly after the occupation began in 2014, you started publishing your reporting under pseudonyms. At what point did you realise this was necessary?

The very first critical articles I published after the annexation were quickly followed by prosecution. A local pro-Russian newspaper published an article in which they promised me a place in Kolyma (where Soviet labour prisons were located). Local television broadcasted programmes to discredit me, inviting journalists who took the Kremlin’s side to talk about the situation. I noticed surveillance in the street. This forced me to sign my pieces with fake names. Yet my writing style was recognisable, so, in two years, I invented more than 20 pseudonyms. One day, the internet on my computer shut down, and I called the internet provider to send someone to fix it. Two people came. Later, when I was shown screenshots from my computer by the police, I found out that those people installed spyware on my computer. But I decided to stay in Crimea to continue writing the truth. I realised that if everyone from the editorial office left, we would have to second someone to Crimea. I knew the setting well, had a working network of sources and, most importantly, was able to analyse the situation.

But the trick did not work?

In April 2016 the security services came to my house to conduct a search. They found the copies of my articles signed with the pseudonyms on my computer and digital media. They seized more than 900 gigabytes of archive materials that I had been collecting for decades. I was accused of “calling for violation of the territorial integrity of the Russian Federation”. This is what the Russian authorities call denying that Crimea is part of the Russian Federation. I was banned from any professional activity for two years, that is, from publishing any articles. In fact, I was deprived of my livelihood as I have never done anything other than journalism. For 2.5 years, I also had to visit the police station twice a month to report on all my activities. Before the trial, Russian financial institutions had put me on a so-called list of extremists and terrorists, which blocked all my financial transactions in Russia. I lived off my family’s money, was reading a lot, writing for myself, and saving up ideas for the future. They also cracked down on the entire network of  Crimea.Realities by seizing all equipment from six other journalists and the former office manager of the project. Although my colleagues were only held as witnesses, the entire regional journalist network was paralysed. Vladimir Pritula, the editor-in-chief of the project, considers it the darkest of times for the project.

In 2020, three years after your conviction, you eventually left Crimea for Ukraine. How did you make that decision?

I realised that working in Crimea under the Russian occupation was impossible. When the time came, my lawyers and I filed a petition for a reduction of the probation, which the court granted. I did not think that at my age I would still have to change my place of residence, my job. That is why the decision to leave the place where I lived and worked for more than 30 years was purely forced. When I returned to Ukraine, I felt as if I had travelled back in time to before 2014 when we had freedom of speech in Crimea.

While over 30 European human rights organisations recognised your case as politically motivated, you called the case’s verdict “a sentence for journalism in Russia”. Why?

While prosecuting journalists and lawyers in Crimea, Russian lawmakers have created a lot of means to censor media. The Russian authorities used Crimea to test them and then applied the same means to independent Russian journalists. Those means are, for instance, convictions on far-fetched grounds or putting artificial obstacles in the way of the lawyers who worked on our cases. Then they started to recognise media and journalists as “foreign agents” and punish those who insult state officials. They also persecute those who make comparisons between Hitler’s Germany and Stalin’s Russia, deny the decisive role of the USSR in the Second World War, criticise the Russian army, and call the “special military operation” a war.

What happened to you in 2016 has been happening to independent journalists in Russia for the last few years. What would you say to them?

According to independent media, some 250 journalists have left Russia to protest against the war in Ukraine. Those I have met are honest professionals who feel it is their duty not to sell their words to the regime. Among themselves, Russian journalists say that 90 per cent of their colleagues working in Russia are against the war in Ukraine. This may be true. However, when the Ukrainian Union of Journalists appealed to their Russian colleagues not to support the war, they received a boorish refusal in Kyiv and were accused of attacking Russian journalists. We have to ask ourselves a few questions. How is it that almost 100 per cent of Russian television broadcasting ended up in the hands of the ten per cent who support the Russian aggression and work for propaganda? How has this ten per cent ended up becoming stronger? The mission of journalists in this time of war is to work together, to reveal and bring the truth about this war to international courts and to debunk the fake news of Russian propaganda. While data on war crimes, violations of the customs of war, and facts of genocide by the Russian army are being collected internationally, the idea of a “second Nuremberg” where Russian occupiers will judge non-existent “Ukrainian Nazis” is being discussed in Crimea. It sounds insane, but I believe that if sane Europeans had only Russian television as a source of information like Crimeans do, many of them would believe that Ukrainian Nazis actually exist.

Support for this interview comes from the Study Tours to Poland program of the Leaders of Change Foundation.

Mykola Semena is a Ukrainian journalist who has spent the last 30 years covering the major developments in Crimea for Ukrainian media and Radio Liberty. He is the author of several books on the turbulent events of Crimean history.

Anna Efimova is a contributing editor with New Eastern Europe and a Russian journalist. As a PhD candidate at Jagiellonian University in Kraków, she focuses on social movements in post-Soviet space. She also holds an MA from the University of Glasgow, UK.

Crimea, journalism, Russia, Ukraine, War