A mediated catastrophe
Ethan Zuckerman
Most of us are lucky enough not to be on the frontlines in Kharkiv or Mariupol, and thus our understanding of Russia’s invasion and Ukraine’s response is necessarily through the lens of a TV camera or now, more often, the mobile phone. Media is an inescapable part of the war, with everyone from government officials to Ukrainian refugees shaping the global narrative, while Russia has moved back to the days of centralised media control, threatening lengthy prison sentences for anyone who steps outside the state’s preferred nomenclature of a “special military operation.” The predictable result of this media crackdown has been the closure of Russia’s few remaining independent media outlets, such as the fearless Novaya Gazeta, and the departure of major international bureaus including that of the New York Times.
Think back to the Arab Spring, that brief period from 2010-2012 where it looked as if a wave of democratic protest would transform the Middle East and North Africa forever. Protesters famously embraced social media to co-ordinate their efforts and communicate what was happening on the ground, while Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak sought to cut the country off from the internet to stop protest movements spreading. Triumphant headlines declared Facebook one of the winners from the Arab Spring, as it emerged as a key technology behind the revolution. There’s some truth to that narrative. The Arab Spring actually began in Tunisia, where protests in Sidi Bouzid triggered by the self-immolation of Mohamed Bouazizi were broadcast on Facebook, the only video-hosting site the government headed by Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali had not blocked. Tunisia was generally a closed country for journalists, but demonstrators documented these protests and shared them with activists in the diaspora, who passed them to Al Jazeera and other international networks.