'Community, demagogues and the South Pacific news media' as published in Media International Australia, 1998. Image: MIA
By David Robie
On 19 October 1995, the Governor-General of Papua New Guinea issued the terms of reference for a Constitutional Review Committee’s (CRC) Subcommittee on Media Accountability: to examine ‘whether changes need to be made to ensure that, while freedom of the press is maintained, owners, editors and journalists of all elements of the media are accountable and that persons aggrieved by media abuses have reasonable redress’.
The CRC held a public seminar in January 1996 to explore the issues and the Media Council of Papua New Guinea held a ‘freedom at the crossroads’ seminar the following month.
Public responses were overwhelmingly in favour of the traditional ‘free’ press in Papua New Guinea, as guaranteed under Section 46 of the Constitution.
The report of the Subcommittee on Media Accountability to Parliament in June 1996 essentially came to the same conclusion.
However, the CRC introduced three draft media laws in November which introduced a controversial system involving a Media Commission, registration of journalists, licensing of media organisations and serious penalties for transgressors.
The proposed legislation was widely condemned and was eventually shelved in February 1997, A general view is that the media debate was manipulated by a small group of politicians out of self-interest.
This paper examines the developments in the context of the erosion of the news media and free expression in the South Pacific generally.
"The muzzling of the Pacific press" . . . the NZ Monthly Review article in December 1988 that sparked the furore. Image: NZMR screenshot CP
A decade-old vendetta against a New Zealand journalist by a Fiji-based media group has again resurfaced.
By Harry Stoner
In mid-1989, the New Zealand Journalist branded as a ‘personal vendetta’ a series of attacks by a group of Fiji-based journalists against New Zealand author and journalism educator David Robie. Later that year, an internationally published book by Robie, Blood on their Banner: Nationalist Struggles in the South Pacific, raised questions in a section entitled ‘A compromised media’. Now that Robie has been appointed to head the journalism programme at the University of the South Pacific in Fiji, five unsigned attacks have been published in the Fiji Daily Post and Sunday Post. They were the subject of a formal ethics complaint filed with the Fiji News Council in April 1998. The Daily Post publicly apologised to Robie in November 1998.
ROBIE TARGET OF VENDETTA
Two Suva-based magazines are having an unseemly spat in which an entire edition of one publication, printed and bound, was recalled from the brink of distribution to avoid legal action from a rival.
At the centre of this bitter row is freelance Pacific affairs writer (and New Zealand Journalists’ Union member) David Robie, who dared to criticise a publication he once wrote for and was then the object of a lengthy personal attack in one of its following issues.
It is a story of press freedom, the tensions between journalists and publishers, and the politics of reporting a part of the world that is increasingly divided and volatile.
The March 1989 edition of the magazine Pacific Islands Monthly went to press with an unprecedented editorial directly attacking its rival Islands Business. The leader accused IB of demeaning the standard of journalism in the region and using invective and distortion in a personal vendetta against Robie.
New Zealand journalist David Robie . . . target of a Pacific vendetta. Image: CP
Robie, 43, has edited newspapers in Australia and South Africa, and wrote for Agence France-Presse in Paris. He has covered Pacific affairs for New Zealand, British and Australian publications for the last decade and has written two books on the region.
Another, Blood on their Banner, on nationalist struggles in the Pacific, is due for international publication in August.
Now writing for Pacific Islands Monthly, he was formerly a correspondent with IB for eight years and during that time covered many of the region’s big stories including the 1984 insurrection in New Caledonia and the Rainbow Warrior affair.
Parted company
IB and Robie parted company in early 1988 but relations between them hit an all-time low later in the year after he wrote a feature analysing Pacific media politics (“The muzzling of the Pacific press?” New Zealand Monthly Review, December 1988) in which he described IB as a “mouthpiece” for the Rabuka regime.
The article reported how media corporations owned by Rupert Murdoch and French mogul Robert Hersant came to dominate the Pacific press, and how the Fiji coups had radically curbed press freedom.
Robie said IB eulogised military stongman Sitiveni Rabuka (the magazine made him Pacific Man of the Year, 1987), that publisher Robert Keith-Reid wrote articles many considered pro-coup propaganda and that the magazine hired an extreme right-wing columnist to cover New Caledonian affairs.
It was the hiring of David Los, a non-journalist who runs an English-language school and has since 1984 carried out a poison pen campaign against Pacific journalists he regarded as too sympathetic to Kanak nationalism in Noumea, that precipitated Robie’s split with IB.
In December 1987, IB published a long and vitriolic letter from Los attacking Robie, then one of the magazine’s senior writers, and mysteriously omitted to offer Robie a right of reply.
An apology of sorts was inserted in the next edition at the insistence of Robie’s lawyer but the magazine then engaged Los as a New Caledonian correspondent. Known to have close links with the local anti-independence ultra-right, Los’s contributions are generally sarcastic tirades against the Kanak independence movement which he is fond of describing as “terrorist”.
Robie resigned soon after and began writing for the rival, Murdoch-owned PIM.
He alleges IB has continued to to publish his material and photographs in breach of copyright, that the magazine owes him more than F$3000, and that it has failed to return him more than 70 photographs it holds on file. These allegations were the target of IB’s successful legal threat and were subsequently removed from the PIM editorial.
Filed legal action
On the same day Robie filed legal action seeking payment and return of the photographs.
Blood on their Banner(1989) . . . controversial criticisms of some sections of the Pacific media. Image: Zed Books
But the dispute flared again when Robie’s article on the muzzling of the Pacific press was published. IB reproduced the article in its January 1989 edition, in breach of copyright, and interspersed three opinion pieces devoted to criticising Robie: by IB publisher Robert Keith-Reid, editor Peter Lomas, and columnist David Los. In all, the spread took five pages.
Keith-Reid alleged Robie was anti-American, anti-French, anti-Fiji coup, and had waged a campaign against IB. In reply to Robie’s allegation that the magazine was a mouthpiece for Rabuka, Keith-Reid wrote that “Except for four days’ imprisonment and some subsequent harassment and threats experienced by the publisher, there has been absolutely no attempt by authorities in Fiji to censor or interfere with the publication of this magazine.”
Lomas questioned Robie’s integrity, accused him of being blinkered, and insinuated he could not translate French. Robie lived and worked in France and covered French Pacific affairs for several years.
Los concluded his contribution with this extraordinary threat: “May I suggest that Robie’s little game has gone too far and that a legal process has been set in motion in Noumea that may give him a chance to see the inside of a prison if he cares to set foot in New Caledonia again.”
PIM responded to this attack on one of its writers, protesting in a full-page editorial that “the pages and editorial resources of an established production should be abused in a personal vendetta which, to be frank, fails to address (Robie’s) criticism.”
PIM called IB’s “profile” on Robie a “sad and embarrassing reflection on Pacific journalism” and said that it would continue to publish Robie’s work.
‘Best correspondent’
John Richardson, who was editor of IB from 1983 to 1987, also protested that “attack” on Robie, saying as far as he was concerned Robie was the magazine’s “best correspondent by far and the only one prepared to cover difficult and dangerous stories”.
He disagreed that Robie was a “leftist”, as had been alleged. Robie, he wrote, was in fact “a liberal with no political affiliations whatsoever. What he does possess, however, is a sharp awareness of what is unjust. This is vital to any journalist worth his salt.
Robie himself said it was scandalous that IB could “wage a malicious vendetta like this against a journalist and then gag a rival magazine from trying to expose the truth in an editorial”.
He said it was distasteful when a journalist had to resort to legal remedies but “the degree of malice shown by IB, towards me has left me no choice”. Robie is believed to be filing a defamation action against IB.
“The bizarre events of the last few months just endorse the theme of my article about the threats to press freedom in the Pacific.”
This article was first published in the New Zealand Journalist in April 1989. Harry Stoner was the alter ego of Phil Twyford, then a specialist Pacific Affairs writer for the Auckland Star and president of the Auckland metropolitan branch of the NZ Journalists Union. In May 1989, Robie filed a defamation writ before the Fiji High Court seeking damages against Islands Business, Keith-Reid, Lomas and Los. It eventually lapsed because Robie was living in NZ then Papua New Guinea at the time.
Journalist, editor and academic David Robie . . . eyed for the University of the South Pacific senior journalism post. Image: PNG Attitude
Fiji’s Sunday Post
Controversial New Zealander David Robie could be appointed to head the University of the South Pacific’s growing journalism programme.
Some USP academics not connected with the journalism programme are pushing for his appointment ahead of a well qualified candidate from within the region.
Robie’s career as a freelance journalist [and former newspaper, magazine and news agency editor in Australia, France, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea and South Africa] and then academic has been dogged by controversy.
His style of journalism has been strongly criticised by several leading Pacific Islands journalists.
He has clashed with a number of Pacific Islands news organisations.
Uni Tavur . . . the masthead of the award-winning student journalist newspaper supervised by David Robie.
Robie at present heads the University of Papua New Guinea journalism programme [where the student journalist newspaper he supervises, Uni Tavur, recently won the top award in the annual Journalism Education Association of Australia and the Pacific (JERAA)].
Robie is known to have close connections with activist organisations such as Greenpeace and was involved in efforts from New Zealand to set up [journalist] trade unions in the Pacific Islands.
The position of journalism coordinator and senior lecturer at USP will become vacant at the end of this year.
This is when the programme’s founder, François Turmel, returns to Europe after completing his assignment to set up the programme.
Turmel’s services were provided to USP through one of France’s leading journalism schools, ESJ Lille, and funding from the French government.
His replacement was expected to be named at a meeting at USP yesterday.
Then position was expected to be offered to a well-qualified regional candidate, according to sources on the campus who asked not to be named.
But several academics who support Robie are understood to be strongly pushing for his appointment instead.
Robie visited Suva some months ago and is understood to have met with a number of USP people.
The people supporting him forced a postponement of the decision, according to the sources on the campus.
The well qualified regional candidate is Sarita Singh, who has spent more than 20 years as a newspaper and radio journalist in Fiji.
Singh went on to study for and gain extensive academic qualifications at leading universities in Britain and the United States in recent years.
They include a master’s degree in journalism.
She is believed to now have the best academic qualifications among Pacific Islands journalists.
The region’s main news media body, the Pacific islands News Association (PINA), earlier wrote to the university over the appointment of Turmel’s replacement.
PINA urged the university to appoint a candidate from the region if there was someone qualified.
PINA’s members have previously called for the appointment of more Pacific Islanders to such positions.
This unsigned article was widely believed to have been written by the then PINA coordinator, Peter Lomas, with an undisclosed vested interest. David Robie, who was duly appointed and held the post for five years 1998-2002, wrote about these issues in his 2004 book Mekim Nius: South Pacific Media Politics and Education.
Controversial journalist, Fiji’s Sunday Post, 9 November 1997.
Part of the cover of Ting Ting Bilong Mi, Campion Ohasio, Pacific Journalism Review, 1996.
Edited by David Robie | Cartoons by Campion Ohasio
Twenty five years ago in Melbourne I encountered a young cartoonist in Melbourne with a flair and panache that was remarkable. His name is Michael Leunig. At the time I was editor of the Sunday Observer and I felt Michael was destined for an astounding future. His distinctive whimsical and poetic style — Barry Humphries once described it as “murky, melancholy and marvellous” — eventually took him to the top of Australian cartooning. His socially aware messages and his characteristic flippant duck were a remarkable antidote to the humourless puritans of the era. He once drew me his characteristic gallivanting duck balancing a teapot on its head as I left Melbourne for greener pastures.
A 1970 Leunig cartoon given to David Robie. Cartoon: Michael LeunigTing Ting Bilong Mi : Cartoons by Campion Ohasio, Pacific Journalism Review, 1996.
Now I have encountered another cartoonist, this time from the Solomon Islands, who has also impressed me. And in an environment where cartoonists are rare and an endangered species. Campion Ohasio, who joined our journalism course [at the University of Papua New Guinea] in 1993 as a young 22-year-old from Nariekeara village in South Malaita, was deceptively quiet at first. But his trenchant abilities with the pen soon became apparent — in spite of the fact that he has never had formal art lessons. Compared with the subtleties of a Leunig, Ohasio has a certain rawness in his style. But his directness is refreshing in Island societies that are often culturally reluctant to get to the point, let alone be brutally honest.
At first Campion Ohasio, encouraged by senior Post-Courier journalist Leigh Martin who was at the time tutoring journalism students on Uni Tavur, contented himself with local issues on campus at the University of Papua New Guinea. The issues were plentiful and painful, and Ohasio treated them robustly. But by the end of 1993, he was restless for more challenges and I persuaded him to tackle national — and Pacific — issues. And before the end of the following year, Ohasio was also making his mark with regional issue cartoons. He developed a “Class of 93” strip, featuring Tome and his dog friend, Spotty. “The experience,” he says, “has been one of most rewarding things that have happened to me as an overseas student studing and living in PNG.”
Tome and Spotty. Cartoon: Ohasio Campion
Before cartooning for Uni Tavur, he had been doing some editorial cartoons for the Solomons Voice, one of the weekly newspapers in Honiara where he worked in 1992 as a graphic artist and reporter. “I had limited knowledge about what cartooning is really all about,” Ohasio admits. “I like reading cartoons and I usually wonder how cartoonists think up ideas fast to meet deadlines — especially on the daily papers.”
The Independent’s Jada Wilson and the popular “Grassruts” strip creator, Bob Browne, now a lecturer at the university’s Creative Arts Faculty, have influenced Ohasio, yet he has been developing his own irreverent style. Environmental and logging cartoons, along with land rights and French nuclear tests, have often been at the forefront of his work.
“Cartoonists probably are the only artists in the world who are expected to come up with a creation every day, or week depending on which media organisation they are attached to,” says Ohasio. “In my case it has been every two weeks. It is definitely not an easy job — but a country such as PNG, or in Melanesia, or even in the wider South Pacific context,
there are more things going wrong than right. A perfect setting for a cartoonist. As Sudhir Tailang, one of India’s rising cartoonists, says: ‘Cartooning is an art of dissent, of protest. Cartoonists look for negative things and find plenty of them. There’s no place for a cartoonist in Utopia.'”
I have to admit there were frustrations at times, as is often the case for people with creative abilities. Campion Ohasio’s definition of editorial deadlines was unnerving, even by “Pacific time” standards. Many were the times when we were about to go to press with me tearing my hair out (or, at least, what I have left) trying to find “Campi”. But he would always turn up just in the nick of time and with the cartoon theme spot on to the issue at hand. Once I had literally given up after sending out our “press gang” to locate Campion. In fact, I had made arrangements to reprint an earlier cartoon. However, as I walked out my office door to leave for the Post-Courier, the Pacific’s largest daily, which prints Uni Tavur, Ohasio arrived breathless — and with a scathing cartoon about Ok Tedi mine, our front page lead. But in the end it was always a pleasure to have “Campion’s Comment” and another instalment in the Class of 93 . . . or 94 . . . or 95 . . . in print.
Ohasio, by Ohasio, 1996.
Campion Ohasio is the third-born of a family of six children. Throughout his schooling he never had art lessons. However, his artistic talents and motivation steered him towards his ambitious dream. During secondary schooling at St Joseph’s, Tenaru, he never had any art lessons yet his work was soon recognised by staff. He was given the job of illustrating the school magazine. In 1986, he won a cultural exchange opportunity to visit museums and art galleries in Brisbane and Canberra. Two years later he made another visit to Australia for the World Expo exhibition in Brisbane. In 1989, he sought a scholarship for an art school but his requests fell on deaf ears.
Ohasio ended up studying journalism at the University of Papua New Guinea in 1991 — the year the campus was closed for a semester because of student protests over a controversial pay rise for MPs. Why didn’t he get a chance on a creative art course? The Solomon Islands government only provides scholarships for economics, accounting and science students. Unfair, says Ohasio. But, as he points out to other students, “You don’t have to go on an arts course to become an artist — you just have to look and learn.”
“Uni Tavur, 21 July 1995: French nuclear testing in the South Pacific has always been opposed by the South Pacific countries. Here is how I saw the attitude problem of the French towards the small Pacific nations. They claimed their testing was safe and they kept pushing their nuke tests down our throats because they knew we could not stop them. All we can do is write protest letters and carry out peaceful demonstrations.” (p. 85). * France ceased Pacific nuclear tests the following year — 1996.
When he was profiled for Uni Tavur by a Milne Bay journalism student colleague, Rex Matthew (who tragically died aged 22 in May 1995 from kidney failure), Ohasio said he was keen to set up his own comics company in the Solomon Islands. A leaf out of Bob Browne’s Grassroots comic books. “After all, my journalism experience would be of great help to me when I start the comic company,” he said.
The day before Ohasio left for Honiara, he showed me the roughs for his new strip character, Toka. I guess Toma and Spotty will be taking a back seat these days. And our readers will miss them in Uni Tavur. But as Conman — the real one, our “stroppy” gossip columnist — would say: NOKEN WARI. CAMPION WILL BE BACK. LUKIM YU.
David Robie Port Moresby
This is the introduction to Tong Ting Bilong Mi, the collection of Ohasio’s cartoons published by Pacific Journalism Review. See the book collection online here.
Kia ora tatou and welcome to journalist David Robie’s independent news media and politics commentary and analysis about Aotearoa/NZ and the Asia-Pacific region.
President Jacques Chirac’s controversial final round of nuclear tests at Moruroa and Fangataufa atolls in 1995 unleashed an unprecedented storm of international protest. And dilemmas for journalists covering the riots in Pape’ete and the junkets by French authorities. The Vanuatu government banned news reports on protests. Journalist David Robie on board the original environmental campaign ship Rainbow Warrior — bombed by French secret agents a decade ago — recalls the events. He was later arrested by the French military.
By David Robie in Uni Tavur
Fernando Pereira was on board the Rainbow Warrior’s ill-fated voyage to the Pacific a
decade ago almost by chance. Campaign coordinator Steve Sawyer had been seeking a wire machine for transmitting pictures from the Marshall Islands and Moruroa Atoll.
Sawyer phoned Fiona Davies, then heading the Greenpeace photo office in Paris. But he said he wanted a machine and a photographer separately.
The 2005 Memorial Edition of David Robie’s book Eyes of Fire: Last Voyage of the Rainbow Warrior.
‘No, no … I’ll get you a wire machine,’ promised Davies. ‘But you’ll have to take my
photographer with it.’ Agreed. The deal would save Greenpeace’s campaign budget about
US$8000.
But it would also cost the Portuguese-born photojournalist Pereira his life. Less than
three months later he was dead — drowned as the Rainbow Warrior, bombed by French secret service agents, sank to the bottom of Auckland Harbour.
The ship’s successor, Rainbow Warrior II, returned to French Polynesian waters in 1995 for another dramatic tilt at the French over nuclear testing. Again, American Steve Sawyer was on board for the first round of protests in July.
For thousands of people in the Pacific, the French plan to resume nuclear tests this year reopened a deep and bitter wound.
New Zealand has long played a key anti-nuclear role. Twice in 1973 it dispatched frigates to the Moruroa Atoll testing zone to protest over atmospheric tests. A World Court case filed jointly with Australia forced France to switch to underground tests the following year.
Yet, in spite of persistent small boat protests over ensuing years, it was not until a decade ago that this major act of French state terrorism in New Zealand’s largest port suddenly projected nuclear tests at Moruroa firmly into the international limelight.
“A photographer’s date with a nuclear death”, PJR, November 1995.
Irony of the saboteurs
The night was chilly as the Greenpeace flagship Rainbow Warrior lay moored at Auckland’s
Marsden Wharf on Wednesday, 10 July 1985. It had arrived in New Zealand from Vanuatu three days earlier — a week after President Haruo Remeliik had been assassinated in Belau.
Greenpeace campaigners were preparing the former North Sea fishing trawler for the environmental group’s biggest-ever protest voyage to Moruroa Atoll, one which they hoped
would embarrass France over nuclear testing even more than the many brave forays of the yacht Vega. On board, supporters celebrated the 29th birthday of Steve Sawyer, the American co-ordinator of the Pacific Peace Voyage.
Unknown to the Greenpeace activists, two frogmen, French secret agents Jacques Camurier and Alain Tonel, had set off in an inflatable dinghy across the 2km stretch of the misty harbour from Mechanics Bay. It was ironic that the saboteurs were using a French-made Zodiac — the craft used by marine commandos to chase the Vega in 1973 (when they bludgeoned David McTaggart, Greenpeace founder in the Pacific), and later adopted by the Greenpeace “commandos of conservation” in dramatic campaigns against nuclear waste dumpers and whalers.
Camurier and Tonel crouched low into the icy breeze as they motored slowly across the harbour. It was bitterly cold, even in their waterproof jackets and wetsuits. Stowed on board the grey-and-black craft were two explosive packs wrapped in plastic, a clamp, rope, and the rest of their scuba gear — including two rebreather oxygen tanks, which did not release telltale bubbles underwater.
It was about 8.30 pm when they were close enough to switch off the little four horsepower Yamaha motor and paddle towards the Rainbow Warrior’s berth. They moored the
Zodiac to a sheltered wharf pile. So far, so good. It was just as they had rehearsed this phase of the so-called Operation Satanic at their Aspretto base in Corsica, France.
Donning their flippers, oxygen tanks and masks, Camurier and Tonel slipped into the inky water. Then they reached over the side of the inflatable to grab the bombs, the heavier of which weighed 15 kilos. They both swam underwater with the bombs, clamp and rope to the stern of the Rainbow Warrior.
Tonel attached the smaller, 10 kilo bomb to the propeller shaft; Camurier fixed the clamp on to the keel and ran out of rope to pinpoint a spot to attach the larger bomb next to the engineroom.
The hull explosive would sink the ship; the propeller mine would cripple it. Both bombs were timed to explode in just over three hours, at 11.50 pm. The explosives laid, the frogmen headed back to their hidden Zodiac. The hardest part of their mission was over.
The first blast ripped a hole the size of a garage door in the engineroom. The force of the
explosion was so powerful that a freighter on the other side of Marsden Wharf was thrown five metres sideways. As the Rainbow Warrior rapidly sank until the keel touched the harbour floor, the shocked crew scrambled on to the wharf.
But Fernando Pereira dashed down a narrow stairway to one of the stern cabins to rescue his expensive cameras. The second explosion probably stunned him and he drowned with his camera straps tangled around his legs.
I had been on board the Rainbow Warrior for 11 weeks, and my cabin was opposite Pereira’s. But I had left the ship three days earlier, on arriving in Auckland, to return to my Grey Lynn home. A planned visit to the ship that night with my two sons and their Scout troop had been cancelled at the last moment.
When the Rainbow Warrior was refloated and towed to the Devonport Naval Base dry dock, I discovered my old cabin had a huge bulge and hole where my bunk had been. My passport had been earlier recovered by navy divers from the bridge. It sank with the ship.
A daughter’s plea
Fernando had fled Portugal during the colonial wars in Angola, Mozambique and East Timor
while he was serving as a military pilot. He settled in Holland, the only country that would grant him citizenship. An amusing, engaging and likeable environmental photojournalist, he joined the Amsterdam daily newspaper De Waarheid.
Fernando’s daughter, Marelle, then aged eight, in June 1995 appealed in the French newspaper Libération to anybody who was involved in the bombing operation to tell her fully what had happened. “Now I am 18, I am an adult and I think by now I have the right to know exactly what events transpired surrounding the explosion which cost my father his life,” she wrote. She also travelled to New Zealand to interview former Prime Minister David Lange and Greenpeace campaigners who sailed on the Rainbow Warrior.
Fernando and I were among seven journalists accompanying the Greenpeace campaigners — he was also a crew member; the rest of us were independent reporters, filing for Australian, British, French, Japanese, New Zealand and Pacific news media. Our task was to travel to the Marshall Islands to report on the evacuation of the stricken islanders from Rongelap Atoll.
The Rongelap people had been contaminated by radioactive fallout, three decades earlier, in the most tragic disaster of American atmospheric tests of the 1950s — the 15-megaton Bravo H-bomb on Bikini Atoll, on 1 March 1954.
The 1985 ‘Rainbow Warrior’ crew .. . and a journalist: Clockwise, from left: Davey Edwards, chief engineer (UK); Marshallese traveller; Nathalie Thomas Mestre, Cook (Switzerland); Martini Gotje, first mate (The Netherlands); Lloyd Anderson, radio operator (USA – in headband); Bene Hoffman, second mate (Germany); Peter Willcox, captain (USA); Bunny McDiarmid, deckhand (NZ); Hanne Sorensen, second engineer (Denmark); and David Robie, journalist (in headband – NZ). Sitting from left: Grace O’Sullivan, deckhand (Ireland); Marshallese traveller; Henk Haazen, third engineer (The Netherlands); and Marshallese traveller. (In front of Martini, partner of crew member Andy Biederman, ship’s doctor (Switzerland) – not present in the group shot). Image: Fernando Pereira.
French President Jacques Chirac’s decision to resume the tests so close to the 10th anniversary of the Rainbow Warrior bombing fuelled outrage in the South Pacific, reopened a deep wound and gave New Zealanders a feeling of déja vu. France says it needs the tests to maintain its nuclear deterrent, and will only conduct eight underground tests between this September and May 1996.
Chirac claimed the tests would have “strictly no ecological consequences”.
Since 1966, France has conducted 175 atmospheric and underground tests at Moruroa and its sister atoll of Fangataufa. The Australian Nuclear Science and Technology Organisation says the tests have left a radioactive core in the extinct undersea volcano that forms the base of the atolls.
It said that although the radioactivity was probably sealed off from the surrounding seas for the time being, there was a serious danger of leakage over the next 500-1000 years. What worries scientists is that the debris of past explosions was a half-life of at least 10,000 years. Greenpeace studies have shown radioactivity in plankton found near Moruroa, and plutonium in seawater.
But most French health tests on the residents of French Polynesia are a military secret.
A decade after the bombing, the full reasons for the French sabotage operation in New Zealand are still unclear in spite of Paris eventually admitting responsibility after the cover-up was blown. A French government-ordered official inquiry headed by leading civil servant Bernard Tricot in August 1985 was widely rejected as a whitewash. While admitting French agents were involved, it cleared the government of ordering the sabotage.
However, in September, after further revelations of French involvement, Prime Minister Laurent Fabius admitted on state television that the French secret service DGSE had indeed sunk the Rainbow Warrior, and it had been covered-up. Defence Minister Charles Hernu was forced to resign and the DGSE chief, Admiral Pierre Lacoste, was sacked.
Complicated plot
The scandal, dubbed “Underwatergate”, was a public relations disaster for France while
Greenpeace’s membership and finances soared. Thirteen secret agents — one of them infiltrating the Auckland office of Greenpeace — were used in the operation.
One DGSE agent, tough former commando Christine Cabon, alias Frederique Bonlieu, made herself at home with Greenpeace and fed information about the Moruroa plans to her Paris headquarters.
The plot by the DGSE — codenamed Operation Satanic — was complicated. A Zodiac and
Yamaha outboard motor were flown from Britain to New Caledonia. The bombs and diving equipment were obtained in Noumea and hidden on board a chartered 11-metre yacht, the Ouvéa.
Four secret agents — Chief Petty Officer Roland Verge, petty officers Gerald Andries and Jean-Michel Barcelo, and “freelance physician” Dr Xavier Maniguet — posed as tourists on a mid-winter diving voyage to New Zealand. A second team of agents flew into Auckland from London posing as Swiss tourists on their honeymoon. They were Major Alain Mafart, deputy commander of France’s Aspretto combat diving base, and Captain Dominique Prieur with the “married” name of Turenge.
Eight days before the Rainbow Warrior arrived in New Zealand on 7 July 1985, Operation
Satanic’s chief, Colonel Louis-Pierre Dillais (alias Jean-Louise Dormand), flew into Auckland
from Los Angeles. He booked into a Kingsgate Hyatt hotel room with a birds’ eye view of the environmental ship’s berth.
During the next two weeks, the Ouvéa crew played out a Jacques Tati-like farce, seducing
women and leaving obvious clues to their presence from Whangarei to Auckland. But they
eventually linked up with the Turenges, and the bombs and sabotage gear were handed over.
A third team of two divers, Camurier and Tonel, flew into Auckland a few hours before the Rainbow Warrior arrived in Auckland from Vanuatu. Both men had false passports and claimed to be physical education instructors at Paofai Girls’ College in Pape’ete. Their task was to mine the ship.
After planting the bombs, Camurier was spotted by yachtsmen vigilantes on the lookout
for petty thieves. He was loading bags into the Turenges’ rented campervan. The car number plate, LB8945, was jotted down and two days after the Rainbow Warrior was sabotaged the fake honeymooners were detained by police on false passport charges.
Evidence points to France
Evidence quickly pointed to French responsibility for the sabotage. Police flew to Norfolk Island to question the Ouvéa crew on their return voyage to Noumea. Although they had strong suspicions, the police did not have enough evidence for arrests. By the time the police got their act together, the Ouvéa had vanished. It had apparently been scuttled in the Coral Sea and the crew (apart from Dr Maniguet, who had earlier flown through Sydney) were picked up by the nuclear-powered submarine Rubis which took them to Tahiti.
Dillais, Camurier and Tonel posed as tourists in the South Island before quietly slipping out of New Zealand two weeks later.
Meanwhile, the French government “denounced” the sabotage and strongly denied any
involvement. French press reports claimed the saboteurs were South African mercenaries, white New Caledonian anti-independence extremists or British agents — anything to divert attention away from French involvement.
The dead photographer, Pereira, was claimed to be a KGB agent and the ship was said to be carrying secret espionage equipment — claims which I found laughable after having lived on board for so long. The Turenges were charged with murder and arson but they eventually pleaded guilty to manslaughter and wilful damage.
On 22 November 1985, Chief Justice Sir Ronald Davison sentenced them to 10 years’ imprisonment.
Faced with steadily deteriorating relations with France after the Rainbow Warrior bombing and threats to the country’s trade future, the New Zealand Government sought international mediation. Then United Nations Secretary-General Javier Perez de Cuellar ruled in June 1986 that France must make a formal apology for the attack and pay $13 million in compensation in return for a three-year deportation of Mafart and Prieur to Hao Atoll, a military base in French Polynesia.
Greenpeace was warded $8 million compensation from France by the International
Arbitration Tribunal. The environmental movement finally towed the Rainbow Warrior to New Zealand’s Matauri Bay and “buried” it off Motutapere in the Cavalli Islands on 12 December 1987.
But the affair did not end there. The same day the French government told New Zealand that Mafart had a serious “stomach complaint” and repatriated him to Paris in defiance of the terms of the United Nations agreement and protests from Prime Minister Lange’s government.
Mafart was smuggled out of Tahiti as a carpenter called Serge Quillan on a fake passport on 12 December 1987 — hours before New Zealand was told he was being repatriated. Prieur was repatriated in May 1988 because she was pregnant. France ignored New Zealand’s protests over the blatant breach of the agreement.
In January 1987, I was detained at gunpoint by French troops near a military outpost, while on assignment in New Caledonia. After veiled accusations of my being a “spy” and being held for several hours along with a Kanak pro-independence local government official without charge at Canala gendarmerie, we were finally released. News media reports at the time linked my arrest with intimidation over my Rainbow Warrior book Eyes of Fire and my coverage of the Kanak struggle against French rule.
The Rainbow Warrior saga still leaves a bitter taste with most New Zealanders. Although
Lange’s Labour government was revered for standing firm on its nuclear-free policy, many New Zealanders have felt disillusioned with it for backing down under trade pressure and handing over the two jailed agents to French jurisdiction.
“You cannot sink a rainbow”, claimed a slogan peddled by nuclear-free campaigners in the months after the bombing. A cliche, but it’s true.
Dr David Robie lectures in journalism with UPNG’s South Pacific Centre for Communication and Information in Development. He was one of several journalists initially on board the Rainbow Warrior, remaining with it for 11 weeks until it arrived in New Zealand. His book Eyes of Fire was the only eyewitness account. This article was adapted from Robie’s report in Uni Tavur’s Insight Report, 21 July 1995.
Part of the cover of Nius Bilong Pasifik, 1995. Image: Screenshot UPNG Press
REVIEW: By Damon Salesa
This ocean of ours is many things, but it is rarely “pacific”. The passage of contact, colonialism and supposed independence has not been without extreme moments.
The problems of living on the margins of a global society which both ignores and exploits the “sea of islands” are multiple, and as complex as the ocean itself. It is within such a precarious context that this feisty book examines the mass media in the Pacific.
Nius Bilong Pasifik is as urgent as it is unpretentious. Written entirely by people involved in Pasific mass media, it draws on the authors’ experiences and provides lucid illustration. It is gutsy but unassuming.
The task of the Pacific media, if it was not already clear, is onerous and treacherous. Foreign ownership, the swamping by foreign media, the constraints and trust of your own and others’ cultures, inhibited freedom if not outright danger, and the conundrum of “development” are just a few of the problems facing the Pacific media, and which they have to deal with in a language not their own, and often with inferior technology.
The Bougainville crisis, television, libraries, and the pro-democracy movement in Tonga are just a few of the issues to which Nius turns itself. While focusing largely on the Western Pacific, particularly Papua New Guinea, there are broader ramifications for throughout the Pacific, and even beyond.
Tackling the subject through themes affecting the whole region, such as types of media, and then though a series of case studies, involves too much overlapping, but more than enough of fascination.
The naivety in some places (“environmental journalists . . . are not made — they are born . . .”) is compensated for by the sophistication, knowledge and insight that is more general.
There are a few notable omissions, one being the situation in Kanaka Maoli (in Hawai’i) and the Māori people of our own country; people overwhelmed by media, and subject to much degradation, negativity and marginalisation because of this. Omissions and other “hiccups” indicate a need for further work, rather than any irretrievable problems.
Nius is a place to start, not to finish. The Pacific and its media still await an Indigenous counterpart with the weight of a Noam Chomsky or Marshall McLuhan, but David Robie and his fellows make this arrival imminent.
Nius Bilong Pasifik: Mass Media in the Pacific, edited by David Robie. Foreword by ‘I. Futa Helu. Port Moresby: University of Papua New Guinea Press. 1995. ISBN 9980840528. Reviewer Dr Damon Salesa is an Auckland author and academic.
Part of the cover of Nius Bilong Pasifik, 1995. Image: Screenshot UPNG Press
REVIEW: By Murray Horton
It is a graphic illustration of corporate New Zealand’s colonial mentality that our Eurocentric news media tell us all about the bludgers of Buckingham Palace and nothing about the brutalised people of Bougainville. It is our loss and Papua New Guinea’s gain that David Robie, this country’s foremost freelancer specialising in the Pacific, could no longer make a living here and now lectures in journalism at the University of Papua New Guinea.
Robie gets through a formidable work rate. As well as being a fulltime lecturer, he has revitalised the University of Papua New Guinea (UPNG) student newspaper Uni Tavur and continues to write as a freelancer. His latest project is editing this book, featuring 18 leading Pacific journalists, academics and media commentators (including himself). It is primarily written as a textbook for the emerging media workers of these scattered nations.
Nius Blong Pasifik cover, 1995.
In the context of national development, authorities see journalism as having a role different to that in the totally commercial-driven variety of New Zealand. Those selfsame authorities have had no hesitation trying to suppress journalism that doesn’t merely parrot the official version of the truth.
This has happened most notably against journalists trying trying to get inside PNG’s genocidal blockade of Bougainville; and against ‘Akikisi Pohiva who singlehandedly campaigns for democracy and honest politics in the feudal monarchy of Tonga.
There are other features of Pacific journalism that are peculiar to the region. For example, the fact that the owners of Papua New Guinea’s most influential newspaper, the Times of Papua New Guinea, are the mainstream churches reflects the powerful historic role played by missionaries. Other newcomers are now muscling into media ownership. PNG’s newest newspaper, The National, is owned by the Malaysian transnational that is the biggest player in that country’s logging industry, Rimbunan Hijau.
Pacific media has to be mindful of the social conservatism that is common throughout the region. The positive side of that is the determination to preserve indigenous cultures that risk being swamped by a barrage of “global culture” sweeping in by satellite dish.
David Robie has done it again. This book, from his exile in PNG, makes us keenly aware that there is now practically nobody in this country to report on the region in which we live.
Any book featuring 18 contributors will be uneven and one or two of the theoretical essays I frankly thought were a wank. But the highpoints make it well worthwhile.
David Robie is well known to Monthly Review readers. His chapter on media ownership in the Pacific is the definitive work on the subject. His other essay is on press freedom, which definitely means different things to different people in the Pacific.
For me, the most interesting parts of the book are the case studies, particularly the detailing of the shameful suppression of any Bougainville news by the Australian (and New Zealand) media. There is a fascinating account of a suppressed sex scandal involving Fijian coupster Sitiveni Rabuka.
The book also features a 40-page appendix of Pacific country profiles. As most New Zealanders (let alone our news media) couldn’t name most of the countries in the region, let alone anything else about them, this particularly welcome.
Nius Bilong Pasifik is a textbook and one which will set the benchmark for other texts in the field. But it is also accessible enough for the general reader and as such, is long overdue.
David Robie has done it again. This book, from his exile in PNG, makes us keenly aware that there is now practically nobody in this country to report on the region in which we live.
Nius Bilong Pasifik: Mass Media in the Pacific, Edited by David Robie. Foreword by ‘I. Futa Helu. Port Moresby: University of Papua New Guinea Press, 1995. 274 pages. ISBN 9980840528. Reviewer Murray Horton is Murray Horton is national organiser of the Campaign Against Foreign Control of Aotearoa (CAFCA) and an advocate of a range of progressive causes for the past four decades.
Nius Bilong Pasifik: Mass Media in the Pacific 1995.
Edited by David Robie | Foreword by ‘I. Futa Helu
“The news media in the South Pacific may be small — but the region has a diverse and vibrant mass communications industry.
Nius Blong Pasifik cover, 1995.
“Ranging from the PNG Post-Courier (circulation 41,000) and The Fiji Times to the fortnightly Tuvalu Echoes and monthly Madang Watcher, from EMTV’s nationwide broadcasts via the Indonesian Palapa satellite to Niue’s tiny television unit; or the PNG National Broadcasting Commission’s Kalang and Karai services to Tokelau’s traffic-and-weather broadcasts; the media caters for an audience and readership scattered over many islands and atolls.
“In French Polynesia, for example, the radio and television stations broadcast to 160,000 people spread over an ocean territory as large as Europe.
“Niue has a population of barely 2000; Papua New Guinea has more than four million.
“In Nius Bilong Pasifik, 18 leading Pacific journalists, academics and media commentators explore the nature and problems of the contemporary Pacific mass communications industry.
“Edited by University of Papua New Guinea journalism lecturer and author David Robie, this is a unique book for Pacific journalism educators, students, sociology and political science scholars, media watchers and professional journalists.” – Back cover
Publisher: University of Papua New Guinea Press, Port Moresby, 1995, 274 pages
The Uni Tavur team c. 1997 at the time of the Sandline mercenary crisis. Image: Pacific Journalism Review
Uni Tavur, the journalism training newspaper produced by the University of Papua New Guinea reporters and editors, celebrated its second decade of publishing in July 1994. The newspaper marked the occasion with a 20-page souvenir issue and made a television documentary.
By Jessie Waibauru in Port Moresby
It has been 20 good years since Uni Tavur was first launched. Today the journalism students are proud to be celebrating the newspaper’s twentieth birthday.
UPNG student journalist Jessie Waibauru . . . recording Uni Tavur’s history. Image: Pacific Journalism Review
Uni Tavur is the University of Papua New Guinea’s journalism training newspaper, produced by the journalism students doing practical reporting and print production. The students cover stories about life on campus, community news and national affairs.
The journalism course began originally in New Zealand in 1974 — the year before Independence. The first issue of Uni Tavur came out on 24 July 1975. But a mix-up over volume numbers means this is the twentieth year.
Tavur means “conch shell” in the Tolai language of the Gazelle Peninsula. The shell is the paper’s logo and the original version was designed by journalism student Robert Elowo, who died in a car accident in 1976 while working for NBC’s Radio Kundiawa. Uni is derived from the university.
The first edition of Uni Tavur carried news items, including social and sports events. It consisted of four pages and had a circulation of 200 copies.
The university took over from the New Zealand government in funding and running the course in 1978. A two-year Diploma in Media Studies course started in 1985, replacing the one-year diploma course which had run for 10 years. The Bachelor of Journalism degree course started a year later.
Uni Tavur has seen a lot of changes through the years. The student reporters assigned to rounds had to cover anything of news value for their readers. Whether it was life on campus, life on the borderline, the political scene or anything of national interest, the students sweated to get the paper going.
From top: Uni Tavur’s editorial team in the second semester, 1994: Sports editor Isaac Nicholas (from left), chief-of-staff Tande Temane, pictures editor/cartoonist Campion Ohasio, features editor Rex Matthews (hard at work behind the computer), subeditors Koreken Levi and Theresa Bossin, production editor Kairu Laho and editor Kevin Pamba. Above left: An April 1981 issue. Above right: The 20th anniversary issue. Image: Uni Tavur/Pacific Journalism Review
Twenty years have gone by. We now look back at some of the hundreds of journalism students who have written for Uni Tavur over the years.
In 1975, the reports were on Sir Michael Somare leading the country into independence on September l6 and the voting of the first PNG Governor-General into office.
Letters to the editor caused some laughs. According to one correspondent in 1975: “I’ve followed the progress of Uni Tavur since its establishment with a great deal of interest. However … my criticism is directed at the use of phrases such as ‘other sources’, ‘one informant’, ‘unknown sources’, ‘it is believed’, ‘a source close to Uni Tavur‘ etc …
“Your anonymous source is like a man whose wife has run away from him, and who then asks someone else to go and beat up his wife because he’s afraid she might bite. He’s a ‘rubbish man’, and you’ll find his opinions or statements — even if they sound important — are worthless, and of lesser news value too.'”
In an item headlined NEW IRISH WANTOKS the following year, it was reported: ‘A Papua New Guinean studying in London gets a faster bar service in a hotel with an Irishman behind the bar — because he comes from New Ireland Province. He is Norlie Miskaram, attending the School of Oriental Studies in London.’
In 1978, there was talk of Papua New Guinea supporting the Kanak Liberation Movement fighting for independence for New Caledonia. During the same year an arts student said that marijuana should be legalised in PNG because it was “not as bad as beer”.
In 1979, a second-year student in social work said he found a frog’s head in his plate of food. When the mess manager was asked about it, he said it was “an oyster”.
In 1981, Students Representative Council president Gabriel Ramoi criticised the lecturers’ manner of dressing, while a commerce student said the government wasted millions of kina by recruiting overseas specialists to improve accounting systems.
The following year the library display on smoking caused a smoky nightmare for smokers. The headlines read: YOU CANT SCRUB THE SMOKERS . . . TRY SOME, SMOKERS TAKE IT REGULARLY . . . HAPPY BIRTHDAY SMOKERS and, to top it off, KISSING A SMOKER IS LIKE KISSING AN OLD ASHTRAY.
During the same year, in March 1982, UPNG students paid tribute to the late Gabriel Gris, the first Papua New Guinean Vice-Chancellor, who died suddenly.
In 1984, Uni Tavur celebrated its tenth birthday and a preliminary year student from North Solomons was in darkness after losing his spectacles up the mango tree next to the bookshop.
In 1985, Uni Tavur celebrated Papua New Guinea’s Independence anniversary by reporting the changes on campus and around the city over the previous decade.
Two years later, 50 university staff were retrenched at the end of the year when the government imposed a five percent budget cut, and a security guard was removed from the mess after giving away fruit to the students.
In 1989, there were reports of the university’s original bush material chapel built in 1971 — and it was burnt down the same year. The new chapel opened in 1989.
The same year, during rehearsal of a play, The Ungrateful Daughter, one of the students, instead of saying, “Darling, your steak is delicious,” said, “Darling, your stick is delicious.”
Now we are in the 1990s.
Looking back over the years the newspaper used to be more of a newsletter format.
Today the journalism students, with the help of lecturer David Robie, are producing a professional newspaper.
Twenty years this week sees a different Uni Tavur with modern equipment to facilitate the production. The newspaper has improved not only in size but also in the quality of news reports.
There has been a significant change because of desktop publishing. The content has also changed dramatically. It now has advertisements.
Uni Tavur is certainly a newspaper in its own right. It has between 12 to 20 pages and a circulation of 1700.
It has a wide readership at UPNG and among subscribers in Papua New Guinea — and from Japan to Tahiti.
Jessie Waibauru is a first-year journalism student at the University of Papua New Guinea. Republished from the 20th birthday issue of Uni Tavur, 22 July 1994 via Pacific Journalism Review.
The Uni Tavur team at the time of the coverage of the Sandline mercenary crisis in 1997. The previous year, Uni Tavur won the Ossie Award for best student newspaper in Australasia and the Pacific. Image: Pacific Journalism Review
