Did Channel 4 go too far with "Inside Al-Shabaab"?
On 15 June, UK broadcaster Channel 4 News released a documentary entitled “Inside Al-Shabaab: The extremist group trying to seize Somalia,” made by their Africa correspondent, Jamal Osman. As the documentary reveals, the journalist received unique access to Al-Shabaab-controlled territories and leaders, portraying the jihadists essentially on their own terms and, in so doing, reviving the age-old debate over where to draw the line between freedom of speech, and offering a platform to hate and incitement to violence. The documentary also raised questions on media ethics.
The documentary has generated a lot of criticism, including an online petition to take the video down, which gathered over 3,300 signatories, and the British communications regulator Ofcom has reportedly received hundreds of complaints. Many commentators have defended Osman’s reporting as being courageous and providing an insight into the workings of a terrorist group, but the petition’s creators argue that Channel 4’s documentary is not only damaging to the image of Somalia, but also disrespectful to the people who have suffered and are still suffering from violence inflicted upon their families and communities by Al-Shabaab. The petition further alleges that the documentary paints a rosy picture of Al-Shabaab, endorsing the group’s agenda and promoting its governance practises, while admiring its military training and leadership.
The opening scene of the documentary shows a graduation ceremony of approximately 200 fighters, referred to as the “latest recruits for the militants that rule over a third of Somalia.” Osman narrates those Western nations view Al-Shabaab as a terrorist organisation, which is why its leaders have been targeted with drone strikes. Yet, “after 16 years of trying to eliminate the militants,” says Osman, “Al-Shabaab remains strong.”
According to Osman, Al-Shabaab positions itself as an alternative form of government; he shows them distributing food and offering healthcare and education to the poor. The video displays semi-heroic imagery of Al-Shabaab, glorifying their fighters wearing sharp uniforms battling the oppression of obscure foreign forces for the liberation of Somalis and Islam.
One man interviewed by Osman claims to have voluntarily moved to Al-Shabaab territory, as he found life to be easier there due to the lack of crime and drugs. The documentary also suggests that Al-Shabaab contrasts favourably to the Taliban, taking pains to show women studying computer science at a private school at Jilib, but it fails to compare this with the status of women in government-controlled parts of Somalia such as Mogadishu or Garowe, where they not only study computer sciences (and other subjects) but are also free to occupy positions of leadership. In one bizarre aside, Osman notes that Al-Shabaab and the UK have similar environmental policies such as the banning of plastic bags, but that London doesn’t seem to consider this a mitigating factor in its assessment of Al-Shabaab as one of the most dangerous terrorist organisations in Africa.
But broader questions about Al-Shabaab rule, such as respect for personal freedoms, civic and political rights go largely unanswered – with one notable exception: the jihadists’ utter hostility to democracy. In one memorable quip, a senior Al-Shabaab leader pledges that the group will stab anyone bringing democracy in the throat.
Interestingly, at no point does Osman himself refer to Al-Shabaab in connection with terror or terrorism. But Al-Shabaab does not only carry out attacks against African Union troops or Somali security forces in its armed struggle to “liberate” Somalia. Civilians are also deliberately targeted: civilians are killed is massive indiscriminate bombings; murdered in complex attacks on hotels and government offices; and assassinated or publicly executed for alleged “collusion” with government authorities or foreign powers. All of these acts are intended to instil a state of fear in the Somali population in support of Al-Shabaab’s ideological and political aims; in other words, to terrorise them.
Osman’s characterisation of Al-Shabaab is arguably one-sided and, at best, incomplete. While consistently highlighting Al-Shabaab’s positives, Osman’s careful acknowledgement of opposing views comes across more like a pro-forma, box-ticking exercise than a demonstration of genuine objectivity and journalistic inquiry. On balance, there is no question that this documentary comes across as one of the most positive pieces of reporting on Al-Shabaab that did not come from one of its own media outlets.
In an attempt to contextualise Osman’s reporting, Channel 4 released a separate piece on the making of the documentary. In this interview, Osman gets to share some of his own views, but makes little attempt to project objectivity. Osman notes, for example, that while Al-Shabaab is still engaged in armed struggle, the group’s main concern is the welfare of the population under its own territorial control: “That is what they are focusing on, it is all about life, life, life.” When the interviewer dryly observes that it is still “death, death, death” in the rest of Somalia and parts of Kenya, Osman replies that these areas are not under Al-Shabaab control, implying that violence is therefore somehow permissible. Ultimately, Osman appears to be convinced that Al-Shabaab will emerge victorious while sharing the views of the group’s leaders; “They are living in their own land, they have significant support, all these foreign forces will eventually leave, and once they leave, they will be ready to take over Somalia.”
Channel 4’s exposé is neither the first nor the last piece of reporting to generate controversy by airing the views of a violent extremist organisation. Polarising characters and extremist views have been broadcasted before, and the editorial choice of how to frame these is not an easy one. Roger Mosey, the BBC’s former editorial director said in 2015 that, “there are difficulties sometimes in deciding what is extremism and what is not; hardline religious conservatism is one thing, inciting terrorist violence another.” When asked whether he would have interviewed Osama Bin Laden while he was still at large, Mosey replied: “Would you take it? Actually, you would,” – arguing that is in the public interest to find out what extremists think. Many, if not most journalists would probably have answered the same way: their job is to go out and get the story. A more pertinent question might therefore be: should their media houses publish such material? And if so, how much of it?
Responding to criticism of their documentary, Channel 4 News said in a statement to the British newspaper Mirror that, “this was a robust and challenging report in which the leadership of Al-Shabaab were firmly held to account,” adding that the media house stood by “this important and duly impartial public interest journalism.”
Section three of the UK Regulator’s Broadcasting Code says TV and radio services must not include material “likely to encourage or incite … crime or to lead to disorder.” Even though Osman’s documentary did not violate this code, it notably lacked proper contextualisation, and failed to adequately challenge the group’s ideologies. Acts of terror, for their brutality and their indiscriminate nature should be condemned, not justified, as this is what truly lies in the public interest. Remaining objective and impartial in the face of blatant violence is not an act of moral neutrality.
The Somali Wire Team
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