Forlag: Et imprint av Harper Collins Publishers, (Skotland)
(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)
When we don't think it can get any worse, it does. Another medium is shut down, the Taliban announces another directive that gags women. For this reviewer, who experienced the previous Taliban period (1996-2001) up close and then the large-scale media boom from 2001 to 2021, it is difficult not to think back to the second half of the 1990s. At that time there was one radio station in Afghanistan, Radio Voice of Sharia, and a stencilled lefse (newspaper).
But the tiger leap of media technology makes the comparison lame. And while the restrictions roll in over the media, the biggest entrepreneur of the early 2000s publishes the book Radio Free Afghanistan. A Twenty-Year Odyssey for an Independent Voice in Kabul about the popular channels Arman Radio and Tolo TV.
In terms of genre, the book is a personal account signed by Saad Mohseni, the founder and head of Afghanistan's largest media company, the Moby Group (which also has media companies in a number of other countries). It is told to/with Jenna Krajeski.
Mohseni's position is, as he himself writes, the privileged Afghan who returns home after a long time of seeing his homeland from the outside. In 2002 he is back. After considering almond cultivation and other projects, he chooses to lay the foundation stone for a media house. The new era, also for the media, is in the offing, and foreign support (USAID, Murdoch) is not difficult to find. Under the surface, of course, there are questions about long-term sustainability, including the large international support. The collapse of the media after the Taliban's takeover is certainly due to their restrictions, but also to economic strangulation.
Radio and TV
"In the beginning we employed nine people, three women and six men. Only one of them […] had any media experience.” The small workforce started Arman radio, with music and call-in programs on everything from traffic and culture to social issues with studio couple Sima and Masood. Arman quickly became popular for his openness: "Anyone who passed by our studio and didn't immediately freeze at the sight of a microphone was asked to talk about whatever they wanted."
In 2004 came Tolo TV, with news, revelations of corruption, debate programs and series. Most popular was Afghan Star, which is reminiscent of Norwegian Idol. Conservative circles threatened a ban, especially since women here sang in public. Zahra Elham, from the Hazara minority, became the first female winner in 2019. The Hazaras have been oppressed for a long time by several regimes, but worst of all under the Taliban, which is heavily dominated by Pashtuns.
A suicide bomber
Mohseni's book is the story of success from the protagonist himself, but also contains reflections and bitter experiences. The biggest attack came against a bus carrying 33 Tolo employees in 2016. A suicide bomber killed seven, while fifteen were seriously injured – the biggest single attack on journalism in the country's history. The Taliban spokesman boasted that they had now killed spies and corrupt people.
Women's voices – even in call-in programs – should not be heard.
For the first time since the beginning, Mohseni raised the question of whether they should close the channel. He met resistance from the staff. They continued, referring to people's right to information, to be entertained, and to learn. Under the current regime, Tolo is still active and publishes some educational programs for girls who are banned from schools after the sixth grade.
From 2002 to 2021 – under the Republic – the challenge was to navigate between governments with a weak understanding of press freedom on the one hand, and the Taliban plus other extremists who attacked journalists directly, on the other. Mohseni calls the experiences an odyssey, and brings to mind Scylla and Kharybdis, two monsters Odysseus had to pass during his long journey home. Today, the channel continues within the limits set by the Taliban, while it occasionally tries to stretch them. It can therefore easily become uncritical protocol journalism, a dilemma Mohseni is probably aware of, but could have discussed more. The channel has been raided by the Taliban, advance censorship has been institutionalized, and new directives come frequently.
A businessman
Many have seen the iconic photo from Tolo's TV studio, where a group of male journalists don black face masks to support their female colleagues, who have been ordered to hide their faces.
Most Afghans still live in Afghanistan, and their right to information remains one of the driving forces behind several of the media trying to continue. Mohseni is a businessman with a large enterprise, but he is also a good storyteller who generously and empathetically reproduces the stories of reporters who have daily risked their lives for journalism. Towards the end of the book, he depicts the rapid development towards political ruin, and his character assassination of (ex) President Ghani, who left the country with his tail between his legs before the Taliban took over, is powerful reading. Here, Mohseni's own role as a political actor also emerges more clearly; he is a man with access to both the summits of Washington and the Arg – the presidential palace in Kabul.
Since the book was published, the Taliban have issued new brutal media directives. Women's voices – even in call-in programs – should not be heard. Images of living people and beings are prohibited. The future is uncertain. Then what about TV?
Mohseni's book is an important and well-written account of what an active entrepreneur achieved together with and thanks to a diverse and courageous group of journalists. Political contexts and personal experiences make it a solid piece of contemporary Afghan history.
