Quick quiz:Where is Darfur?
How many people have died in conflict to date?
Who is responsible for the killings?
Having trouble answering these? Sadly you’re not alone. The majority of Americans are largely ignorant of the daily horrors occurring in Darfur – massacres, mutilations, beheadings, burnings and gang rapes to name a few. It’s a tragedy in the fullest sense. One that, I think we all would agree, is deserving of front-page headlines. But when it comes to Africa, news isn’t really news. T.I.A. as they say in the recently released movie Blood Diamond. This is Africa. Death, disease, plague, famine – such horrific happenings are the perceived norm in Africa, not the exception. The world seems eager to ignore.
I don’t claim to be any different. Oh, I had done some cursory research on the issue and knew a few of the details about the crisis, but, like most, I was basically clueless. It was easier that way, I guess – more comfortable than investing my time in understanding the problem and trying to do something about it, certainly.
The news media, it seems, has abetted the world’s desire for ignorance: In 2004, CBS Evening News devoted three minutes to the crisis in Darfur. Three minutes for the entire year! The next year the network devoted two. According to New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof, the total amount of coverage given last year to the genocide in Darfur was eclipsed by coverage of one incident – John Mark Karr’s confession to killing Jon Benet Ramsey, something that would later be proven untrue.
“You look at it and feel embarrassed as a journalist,” Kristof said Monday night to a capacity crowd of more than 700, who had filled an auditorium at the University of Oregon.
Kristof, who was the culminating speaker of a weekend-long conference on genocide, spoke for more than an hour about his travels through the country and his extensive reporting on the crisis, reporting which earned him a Pulitzer Prize in 2006. Kristof’s tales of young lives destroyed by the strife and accompanying photos of the victims were, in a word, haunting. In one of the stories Kristof told of a young woman who allowed herself to be captured by the Janjaweed militia so that her younger sister could escape. The woman later shared the story of her brutal rape and beating with Kristof as a way to fight back against the militia and bring attention to the crisis. “I hope we can learn to emulate that kind of moral courage,” Kristof said.
One photo in particular – a close-up of an elderly man, whose back had been set ablaze by the murderous militia – moved me in a profound way. It was the first time, for me, that the conflict was no longer an abstraction, but a human tragedy. No longer were the dead just statistics on a page or a collection of lurid anecdotes, they were sentient beings with lives and families and rich personal histories. Looking into the man’s eyes, I felt empathy for the man’s suffering and indignation at a world that could ignore such atrocity. Kristof’s columns have fomented these feeling across the country and helped raise awareness of this continuing tragedy, something which is badly needed. As Kristof said, the crisis won’t be solved by military intervention, but by turning the public spotlight on Darfur, with the ensuing political pressure engendering a peace agreement.
As I left the talk, I felt none of the sadness I had earlier expected. Instead I felt strangely inspired. Inspired by the passion and commitment, which so obviously inform Mr. Kristof’s every action. It helped reaffirm my faith in journalism, a faith that is consistently shaken by the tabloid nature of today’s news. As trite as it sounds, the speech confirmed for me that journalism does matter and that we as journalists can indeed make a difference. For most of us, it won’t be from covering genocide, wars or famine, but by reporting on the issues of importance in our own communities – poverty, health care, education, etc.
While it is paramount that we as media practitioners put the spotlight on the Darfur genocide, it is equally important that we raise more principled, passionate journalists like Kristof, journalists with the “moral courage” to champion issues the world would rather ignore.
It is because of people like Kristof that we can feel proud as journalists.
To read Nicholas Kristof's writing:
New York Times or
Pulitzer-Prize-winning commentary
During the decade Adrian Nicole LeBlanc spent writing and researching her opus Random Family, she slept on cockroach-infested couches, spent time in some of New York’s most dangerous neighborhoods, filled hundreds of reporter’s notebooks with detail, and transcribed more than a thousand of hours of taped interviews. In the process, she lost her savings, her sanity and her relationships.
