Two Perspectives on Contemporary Journalism

In the 2017 article “The increasing importance of investigative journalism,” Azeri journalist Khadija Ismayilova argues that despite the opposition of corrupt governments and organized criminal groups, investigators must expose illicit activities at both the upper echelon and seedy underbelly of global society. Before concluding, “Continuing to tell the truth is already a win, given the circumstances,” she references her work with The Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP), an international consortium of journalists and media centers that has proven a safe harbor for reporters forced to pursue projects outside their home countries, either because of a lack of domestic media resources or the threat of repression and harassment. As a contributor to OCCRP who worked for several months in their Sarajevo headquarters, I know the organization is distinctly multinational in character, invoking the aid of journalists from numerous authoritarian states. And the impact of recent investigations cannot be overlooked—the consortium’s scrutiny of the Panama Papers, a 2016 leak of 11.5 million documents, revealed the hidden and often unlawful offshore holdings of countless world leaders, crime bosses, and celebrities. These reporters are keeping busy, and it is clear that investigative journalism holds weight as a counterbalance to criminal wrongdoing and an avenue for free expression in censored parts of the world. But is the profession actually increasing in importance? 

In a concurrent opinion piece, “Do state interests trump ‘free speech’?” another Azeri journalist, Azer Hasret, questions Ismayilova’s main claims, stating the media in their country is legally permitted to criticize the government and pursue investigations without fear of official intervention. (“No journalist has been investigated for his or her professional activity in Azerbaijan [since 2009],” Hasret writes.) He believes the media is biased in favor of whoever wants to attack a public figure or government, and journalists in Azerbaijan do not face censorship but must instead confront deep-seated issues of integrity within their own ranks. Hasret references Ismayilova’s sentencing for “illegal activities,” which included alleged tax evasion and embezzlement, and had resulted in an imprisonment of two and a half years. Whether or not she committed the crimes for which she was accused, or whether Azerbaijan supports or opposes the free press, is beside the point. What is most telling is the disagreement between peers—the evident disparity between their perceptions of what the free press should represent, what issues should concern investigators, and what investigative journalism hopes to accomplish in an age of increasing populism and attacks on established democracies. 

I spent only three months at The Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project, but that period represented my first sustained exposure to the secure, fastidious, and fast-paced work of investigative journalists. OCCRP is not representative of all investigative outlets—though global in focus, most of their stories cover Eastern Europe and Central Asia—and though they address a range of topics, from human trafficking to drug smuggling and the expansion of criminal syndicates, the organization is most effective as a network of financial snoops, adept at exposing sophisticated money laundering schemes. Still, despite the complexity of investigative journalism both as a profession and as a defense of republican principles, OCCRP seemed as fine a place as any to answer the question, “How important is any of this, really?” The short answer is, “very important,” but the long answer contains many caveats and prospective challenges, suggesting a difficult road for the future of press freedom and the preservation of investigative journalism as a critical public service.