A few months ago, a friend and I decided to do something we had always wanted to do, and finally spend a week in Johannesburg. Since he had UK citizenship and I only had my trusty green passport, I would have to apply for a South African visa. When looking through ticket prices online, it quickly became clear that most of the available tickets were outside my planned budget range, which would be an issue for me. I did not want to visit South Africa only to spend a week sitting in the hotel and watching TV because I was too broke to do anything else.
Rwandair however, was offering what looked to be a sweet deal on flights to JNB. My friend quickly went ahead and booked his ticket and sent me the link to book mine. I wasn’t so sure. Living as I do now – technically a fugitive on the run from my own government – I am in constant contact with other members of a small community of exiled African journalists, dissidents and politicians around the world, and I have learned as they have, to constantly wear paranoia as a secondary layer of clothing.
The Gainjet fiasco involving Rwandan dissident Paul Rusesabagina was still fresh in my mind at the time, as was the fact that my name is still prominently present on a list of the regime’s enemies in Kigali. Even though the flight in question was to be a direct flight to Jo-burg without a stopover in Kigali, I was certain that Paul Kuan Yew would have no problem with using state power to interfere with the flight plan of a state-owned airline if it would mean getting hold of his enemies. He did after all, famously use Rwandan nationals working at MTN to spy on Rwandan dissidents and opposition politicians.
And so my friend ended up going to South Africa alone while I stayed put and watched him have all the fun on Instagram. It stung, but better that than to risk getting Rusesabagina-ed by a Rwandan Idi Amin or Jamal Khasshoggi-ed by the Nigerian spooks that said Rwandan Idi Amin might hand me over to. Several months later, following the events of Sunday night in Belarus, we both now know that I made the right choice. Around the world, it truly is open season on journalists right now.
The road to hell, good intentions and all that
In trying to understand how we got here, it would be intellectually dishonest to ignore the role that the very best of intentions played. Up until the early to mid 2000s, it was accepted globally that there were certain lines that no one should cross. At state level, only pantomime villains like Hitler’s Germany or Stalin’s USSR or Jean Bedel Bokassa’s Central African Republic did certain things like authorise assassinations and torture against their own citizens.
Only non-state actors pulled stunts like the Entebbe hijacking or the Munich 1976 terror attacks. Occasionally, you might even get a madman like Muammar Ghadaffi authorising a terror attack on PanAm flight 82 over Lockerbie, Scotland, but it was generally accepted that democratic, pluralistic countries with Western or Judeo-Christian ideals wanted no part in such things. This all changed after the epochal event that was September 11, 2001 as the world’s foremost 800-pound gorilla started making sweeping, non-incremental changes to its security policy.
Out went its laissez-faire mode of diplomatic engagement and in came the buzz phrase “homeland security” as the catch-all to describe all things American government-related. Prior to September 11, it might have sounded far-fetched to suggest that a time would come when the US government would authorise overseas assassination against a US citizen, or openly and extensively persecute whistleblowers for leaking information that is objectively in the public’s interest to know. All of these things are now facts and part of an ongoing story, driven relentlessly by that most noble of noble intentions – national security.
As the world’s foremost force for democracy and human rights has thus tied both shoelaces together and tumbled down a decidedly dark road to opacity over the past couple of decades, dictators and their proteges all over the world have been taking keen notice. Paul Kuan Yew in Kigali started ordering assassinations of enemies as far afield as Belgium and Britain. A Saudi journalist who was a US resident walked into a Saudi consulate in Turkey and ended up hacked to pieces and dissolved in acid. Finally, Sunday evening’s massive stunt in Belarus happened. Here we are.
How do we reverse this tide?
The most important thing that needs to happen now is a concerted and decisive response from the relevant international powers that have the power to offer a response to Belarus. In this case, that would be the EU and NATO. The response must be as swift and unapologetic as possible. Huge economic sanctions and penalties against the Belarussian state and individuals linked to the state, rescinding of all Belarussian airline flight permissions and possibly locking out the Belarussian air force from the global supply chain that keeps its fighter jets operational would be a good start.
The point of this proposed response is not Belarus itself – a tiny country with less than half the population of Lagos. Belarus is not important enough to warrant such action, but the purpose of the action is to demonstrate to any wannabe Alexander Lukashenkos that the world of laws, civil rights, civil society and due process still exists and cannot be waved aside at will whenever a dictator wants to capture someone he does not like. Dictators around the world are watching very closely to see what the response of the developed world will be to Lukashenko’s Sunday evening stunt.
Paul Kuan Yew, who has tried to stage the assassination of Judi Rever, a Canadian journalist, and Rene Mugenzi, a Rwandan national living in the UK, will certainly be watching keenly. Abuja’s multiple presidents will be watching keenly. Mohammed Bin Bonesaw will definitely be watching with keen interest, as will Paul Biya, Kaguta Museveni, Dambuzo Mnangagwa and many, many others.
If NATO and the EU let this slide, then dare I say, journalists and journalism are in soup. Hot, steaming, soup.
