Abstract
One of the few foreign journalists to regularly visit Yemen, Laura Silvia Battaglia, talks about the challenges of getting in
Laura Silvia Battaglia speaking at the International Journalism Festival in Perugia, Italy
CREDITS: International Journalism Festival, Perugia, Italy
Countries are using visas as a way of controlling the entry of international journalists to conflict zones – particularly Syria. The restrictions there are driving more reporters to try to enter the country through the more porous Turkish border, but from 2012 to late 2013, as long as you arranged a ferryman with one of the anti-Bashar al-Assad rebel militias, your place on the frontline was guaranteed.
Such passage – which could still prove dangerous – shaped a great deal of the anti-Assad narrative on the Syrian conflict, particularly for the first three years of the war, which started in 2011.
Assad’s government realised this a little too late, but for the past two years it’s been easier for journalists to get government-issued visas than it was seven years ago.
Having learned from this “lesson”, other governments have changed tack. Iraq, for example, opened its borders to anyone wishing to enter the country to cover the Mosul offensive in 2016-2017. Access was through Erbil airport, in northern Iraq – also known as Iraqi Kurdistan – and Europeans, Americans and many other nationalities did not need visas. Checkpoints to get in and out of Mosul were probably the easiest to navigate in the whole of Iraq.
If you had the right permit and the correct paperwork, the coalition forces (the Iraqi and Peshmerga armies) would assure you a smooth passage. This was no longer true by the end of the offensive, in July 2017, by which time the government had announced it had regained control of Mosul and defeated Isis. Although pockets of fighting continued in the city and lives continued to be lost, journalists were encouraged not to enter Mosul between specified hours and told to wait at checkpoints for something to happen.
The official version was that it was for our safety, although one of the main reasons was to prevent international media workers from witnessing the extra-judicial executions of suspected Isis snipers – executions which violated their rights as prisoners of war and for which the Iraqi authorities were right to fear criticism.
Interestingly, when it comes to issuing visas for Baghdad, the Iraqi government is much stricter and the no-go area now starts from Basra, frequently the site of anti-government protests, the oppression of political activists, police and militia action, and local government corruption. Basra doesn’t need witnesses.
Yemen, on the other hand, home of the the most under-reported conflict in the Middle East, has outdone all its neighbours, largely on account of there being so few land routes into the country. During the four years of its current civil war, it has been almost impossible for foreign journalists to get in.
The extremely weak Yemeni government has issued very few visas, which are the only way of gaining independent access to the country. Even when this problem is overcome, it’s still not easy, or economically feasible, for a foreign journalist to get to Yemen.
There are the options of travelling by sea from Djibouti to the port of Aden, with the risk of being attacked by pirates or long delays while equipment is checked. The alternative is going via Oman, where travelling overland means spending hundreds of dollars to drive north for two days and passing through nearly 40 checkpoints, some of which are controlled by al-Qaeda.
For international media workers, the easiest option is the most expensive one: flying. But only with the country’s national carrier, Yemenia. They have very few flights from Amman, Cairo and Khartoum to Yemen, charging exorbitant prices (more than €1,000 for a compulsory return ticket to be paid in US dollars – cash – and purchased at one of the airline’s official agencies with no assurance that there will be an economy class and no guarantee that the plane will actually leave on the specified date). This also explains why many foreign journalists prefer, for both logistical and financial reasons, to rely on Saudi media tours which are organised in meticulous detail from Riyadh, offering all necessary services to secure a breaking news story: a day on the Ma’rib frontline, south of Sana’a; a visit to an orphanage of former Houthi child soldiers; meeting victims of torture in Houthi prisons; and talking to the authorities of Ma’rib, the only governorate recovering both socially and economically and under the protection of Saudi troops.
Reports from Yemen tend to be fairly similar. There’s one trump card, though, and it makes reporting in Yemen a primarily female affair. Women, both local and foreign, provided they dress like local women and are accompanied by a local man, can cross checkpoints with relative ease. They are rarely asked for their papers and their bags are almost never checked – largely because the checkpoints are operated by men, who are not permitted to touch women.
Laura Silvia Battaglia (right) and Iraqi journalist Halan Ibrahim Shehka (left) in Al Kut, Iraq
CREDITS: Laura Silvia Battaglia
This was standard procedure during the first two years of the conflict, although over the past year, central government authorities have stepped up security and added female personnel at checkpoints. Nevertheless, once you get into Yemen – if you have the right paperwork, know what you’re doing and are familiar with the place and the culture – as a female reporter, it isu still much easier than if you are a man.
Footnotes
Translated by