Big Brother is Watching: Surveillance Regulation and its Effects on Journalistic Practices in Zimbabwe

ABSTRACT

In many African countries, including Zimbabwe, journalists have been subjected to various policy regulations that have widely been criticised for making the practice of journalism difficult. Part of the reason has been the advent of competitive politics that have left the ruling regimes scrambling to limit freedoms and stop opposition onslaught on their power. One way the Zimbabwean government has limited freedom of expression has been through the introduction of the Interception of Communications Act, a surveillance regulation law that has had a chilling effect on the practice of journalism. This paper utilises Pierre Bourdieu’s journalistic field as theoretical lenses, focusing on the concepts of journalistic field to explore how journalists have been affected by the threats posed by this law in their daily newsgathering and production activities. The study is based on qualitative interviews with Zimbabwean journalists and civil society activists with an interest in the media, sampled from the private print media. The article argues that state surveillance has disrupted the journalistic field in the country by damaging the relationship between journalists and their sources, thus compromising one of the basic tenets of journalism. Journalists can no longer follow the widely held newsgathering routines as a result of state surveillance policies. Furthermore, investigative journalism, which was already under pressure from political influence, has been further eroded. We argue that Zimbabwe journalists need to develop reporting practices that expose surveillance and find creative ways to negotiate and resist surveillance.

KEYWORDS:

• Surveillance
• Interception of Communications Act
• journalistic field
• Zimbabwe
• journalism practice

Introduction

The growth of terrorism and terrorist attacks across the world has led to rising practices of surveillance as governments scramble for possible responses. After the terrorist attacks in the USA on 11 September 2001 (9/11), most governments hastened to enact legislation that would allow for snooping of private data (Richards 2012). For instance, the USA passed the Patriot Act, a law that gives state agencies unfettered powers of surveillance (Richards 2012). Every government, including those remotely affected by terrorism, rushed to enact typical legislations (Richards 2012). The American Bar Association (ABA 2017) notes that one of the most common characteristics of surveillance laws after 9/11 was that they violated fundamental freedoms of individual citizens and, hence, most of them did not pass the international standard of necessary and proportionate test (UN Human Rights Commission 2015). The 2013¹ revelations by Edward Snowden that governments across the world were performing surveillance on their citizens showed that surveillance practices have risen yet to another level. Snowden’s disclosures, however, do not ascertain the extent of surveillance practices especially in the global south—Africa in particular. There has been nothing in the revelations about the scope of this practice in Africa. This by no means, is a confirmation that African governments have not been spying on their citizens.

This culture of surveillance does not demarcate liberal from illiberal states, as most countries are clandestinely involved in this practice (Right2Know 2019). As Turow and Draper (2013: 141) note, technological innovation has created for societies “a new surveillance ecosystem” where targets of surveillance are categorised and personalised, and where the weapons of surveillance can define individual preferences, activities and reputations. The targets of surveillance have vastly expanded as nations continuously evaluate or imagine their enemies. What is certain is that these targets vary from one country to another and carry different weight of threats.

Literature on the effects of surveillance on journalists is still embryonic both in the global north and south. The International Consortium for Investigative Journalism (ICIJ) has, on numerous occasions (2016, 2017 and 2018), argued that journalists have been subjected to surveillance, unjustifiably so, in many countries, including the so-called liberal nations like Britain and Australia with a long tradition of democracy and liberalism. The threat of surveillance, real or perceived, can have a chilling consequence on how journalists gather news, approach sources and report the news (Lowenthal 2015; Waters 2018). In some instances, research has shown that when journalists suspect surveillance, “they adapt their workflows to regain some form of strategic advantage to publish freely” (Waters 2018: 96). It is logical for people who suspect surveillance to alter their behaviour (Bell and Owen 2017).

Surveillance on professions like journalism has been worse in authoritarian and semi-authoritarian regimes (Flaherty 2009). These regimes pose many dangers, especially to investigative journalism. In these environments, states can spy on journalists, who often have little to no chance of recourse to the law. This is because such regimes often lack a set of laws that act as oversight to state surveillance. There are no statutory institutions that fence off certain privacies, such as privacy of data from the state, unless a compelling case of criminality has been proved. Journalists operating in these environments with little to no legal protections are often “held back” in the way they do their reporting, especially when it impacts the state (Flaherty 2009). These dangers are often heightened for investigative reporters who seek to expose elite wrongdoing. Once they become victims of surveillance, journalists more often than not become victims of all forms of harassment by state agencies and other pro-state institutions. The state, the world over, has always been anathema to an inquisitive press (Munoriyarwa 2018). Digital forms of surveillance have worsened the surveillance of journalists because they are hard to detect (ICIJ 2018). This includes activities such as hacking of emails, tapping of private calls and retrieval of individual social media charts (Posetti 2017).

There is currently little existing literature on surveillance policies and their effects on the practice of journalism in Africa (see Duncan 2016 and Mare 2016). This is despite many countries in Africa having enacted surveillance laws that directly or indirectly affect journalism practices (Duncan 2018; AmaBhungane 2019; R2K 2019). Lately, there has been scholarship emerging in South Africa on surveillance in general (Duncan 2014, 2016, 2018). There is no scholarship known yet in Zimbabwe on how surveillance is affecting journalism practices. Journalism practice in this article is taken to mean the conventions of gathering and reporting news (Greenberg et al. 2007). The purpose of this article is to explore how one law, the Interception of Communication Act (ICA) of 2007, specifically meant to enable state surveillance, has affected newsgathering practices of journalists in four mainstream newspapers—The Daily News, Newsday, The Independent and The Standard. These four newspapers are all privately owned. The primary question being investigated in this paper is: to what extent does the ICA, the policy that regulates surveillance in Zimbabwe, influence journalism practices in the four selected newspapers? The article proceeds as follows. The context of the research will be sketched first. The context of this research includes two central issues—the surveillance regulations of Zimbabwe and contemporary news-making practices in the country. Thereafter, the theoretical framework is laid out. This is followed by the paper’s methodology. Lastly, findings, a discussion of the major findings and a conclusion follow.

Context and background

Zimbabwe’s surveillance regulations

Zimbabwe is a political and militarised semi-authoritarian regime (Makumbe 2009; Masunungure 2011; Sachikonye 2012). Since the heightening of what is called the “Zimbabwe crisis” in 2000,² there has been an intrusion of the security sector into the political arena (Masunungure 2011). The state has introduced several laws that have put a chilling effect on freedom of expression and the practice of journalism in the country. Most of the clauses providing for surveillance are “scattered” in different laws. For example, the Public Order and Security Act (POSA) provides for surveillance of individuals suspected of disturbing public order and threatening national security. At the same time, the Presidential Temporary Measures Act allows the president to promulgate emergency measures that can provide for the surveillance of individuals and groups. This makes it difficult for any individual who feels aggrieved to challenge the laws, as this would mean challenging huge chunks of the constitution.

The ICA passed on 3 August 2007 is the law that makes a broad attempt to consolidate surveillance in one piece of legislation. It was passed,

To provide for the lawful interception and monitoring of certain communications in the course of their transmission through a telecommunication, postal or any other related service or system in Zimbabwe; to provide for the establishment of a monitoring centre; and to provide for any other matters connected with or incidental to the foregoing. (ICA 2007: 1)

The act stipulates how digital surveillance can be carried out by state surveillance agencies—for example, the Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO), the Zimbabwe Military Police and the Zimbabwe Republic Police. These agencies are allowed to access people’s private data by digital means, including interception of phone calls and emails, collection of metadata and video surveillance. The ICA provides for either targeted or mass surveillance of any persons residing in Zimbabwe.

When the Act was passed, human rights non-governmental organisations (NGOs) argued that it was an extension of growing repression under the administration of the former President Robert Mugabe (Veritas 2007). These groups viewed this law as a calculated assault on peoples’ private communication and infringed on the Constitution. For example, it allows for the state to spy on peoples’ private communication without judicial oversight. This is a severe violation of Section 57 of the Constitution, which guarantees the right to privacy. Also, the ICA falls far below international standards of policing surveillance. For instance, international standards of surveillance provide for judicial oversight of surveillance and not executive oversight (Flaherty 2009).

The most contentious clause of the ICA is the provision that an application for interception may be made by the Chief of Defence Intelligence, the Director-General of the President’s Department of National Security, the Commissioner-General of Police or the Zimbabwe Revenue Authority Head. The ICA further states that the Minister of State Security would make the final approval for surveillance, and his/her approval was not reviewable in the Courts. Ministers and heads of security agencies and director-generals are political appointees. NGOs and private media journalists feared that blanket surveillance was not far off the horizon because of these clauses. For NGOs, such fears are understandable considering these organisations’ tortured relationship with security apparatus. State security institutions have always dabbled in politics (Mlambo 2005), and have been the cornerstone of ZANU PF’s grip on power (Makumbe 2009; Masunungure 2011; Sachikonye 2012).

News-making and reporting practices in Zimbabwe: a synopsis

Zimbabwe journalism and news-making practices have always operated under severe economic and political conditions. On the economic front, journalism practices have been dogged by the deep economic crisis bedevilling the country. The crisis has manifested itself in hyperinflation, which has eroded journalists’ income (Mabweazara 2018). The economic crisis has led to the adoption of “an unprecedented mercenary approach to journalism” (Mabweazara 2018: 99). One of the manifestations of this “mercenary approach” is “moonlighting”—a practice where journalists take a second full-time or part-time job for a variety of reasons including covering up for meagre salaries in a hyperinflationary environment (Kanyane 2005). The practice has ethical and professional implications in the sense that journalists find themselves in conflict-of-interest situations where their professional interests clash with the private interests of their employers. Declining ethical and professional standards have been a serious cause of concern on Zimbabwe news-making and journalism landscape (Chuma 2007; Mabweazara 2018).

Added to this are the chilling effects of state repression on journalism practices (Mano 2005: Chuma 2007; Munoriyarwa 2018). The ruling regime in Zimbabwe has occasionally used strong-arm tactics to reign in journalism practices that it sees as aberrant. These tactics have varied from warning journalists to outright ejection from journalists’ posts (Mabweazara 2018). In post-2000 Zimbabwe, the state’s tactics of repression have assumed both legal and extra-legal dimensions. On the legal side, the state has enacted draconian media laws like the Access to Information and Protection of Privacy Act (AIPPA). The provisions of the Act make it almost impossible for journalists to access information held by state-related bodies, despite the irony that the statute purports to promote access. Restrictive legislation regimes like AIPPA, the POSA, have been enacted in the name of maintaining public order (White and Mabweazara 2018). Neo-patrimonial regimes in Africa, like Zimbabwe, have exploited these restrictive laws to limit public discourse in all its forms and limit scrutiny and criticism to their rule (White and Mabweazara 2018).

Also, Zimbabwean journalists have not mustered a united front, always divide by political affiliation, in what Chuma calls, “a polarised media landscape” (Chuma 2007). The political differences that have divided them have led to the practice of different types of “journalisms’ ranging from ‘patriotic journalism’ to nationalistic journalism” (Chuma 2007). The state elites have exploited these divisions between mainly state media journalists, who are perceived as pro-regime, and private media journalists, who are seen as anti-regime, by fanning further the discourses of division, calling private media journalists sell-outs and public media journalists patriots. The net effect is that journalists cannot muster a united response against repressive legislation or negotiate the impact of the economic crisis on news-making and reporting practices in unison. Added to all these challenges on journalism practices is the ICA. This paper seeks to explore how this particular legislation has impacted news-making and production practices in an environment that has already been negatively affected by existing draconian legislation and a deteriorating economic landscape.

Theoretical framework: the journalistic field

Newsroom ethnography has been the preferred theoretical and methodological approach to analyse journalistic practices. Newsroom ethnographies examine news organisations and journalists’ daily routines. Newsroom ethnography focuses on micro-practices that are visible to the researcher, for example, daily newsrooms routines, while macro-practices such as societal and economic structures are often invisible to the researcher and thus lie outside the researcher’s analytical domain (see Benson and Neveu 2005). Therefore, newsroom ethnography focuses on agency, whereas theories such as political economy of the media and sociology of news production often pay attention to structure. Willig (2013) states that the work of Pierre Bourdieu can inspire bridging the gap between agency and structure. Bourdieu’s field theory helps to explain the forces, both internal and external, that shape the journalistic field. Field theory views society as being composed of different but interconnected fields, with each field having its specific logic. Journalism can, therefore, be understood as a subfield within the broader field of cultural production—it is thus a separate field with its practices and rationalities (Willig 2013). While previous newsroom studies mainly focused on particular organisations and internal dynamics (see, for example, Tuchman 1978), field theory has the advantage that it takes into consideration “the relations between the newsroom and the journalistic field and between the journalistic field and the field of power” (Schultz 2007: 192). The relationship means that agents (journalists) follow specific rules of the game guided by institutional logics but are also influenced by more significant developments in the political and economic realms.

In discussing the analytical concept of journalistic field, one needs to consider the roles of habitus, doxa and capital. Habitus refers to entrenched habits, skills and dispositions. Thus, habitus is the dispositions that people have accumulated throughout their lives, as expressed through their attitudes and behaviours towards issues. For Bourdieu, habitus enables us to look at how people’s behaviour is reproduced by both individual action and the influence of the structures these individuals inhabit. Habitus allows field theory to account for people’s agency within fields (Benson and Neveu 2005). Journalists are carriers of relatively fixed dispositions that reflect their trajectories and their position within the field. They follow the rules of their field. Bourdieu attributes these to a “common social background and training (or lack thereof)” (Bourdieu 1990: 36). In addition to habitus, Bourdieu (1990) emphasises the importance of doxa, which means the universe of tacit presupposition that organises action within the field. Or in other words, the rules of the game that exercise a limiting influence on the potential course of action for the agents in that field (Bourdieu 1990). Agents in a field share a common doxa in as far as they agree the game is worth playing (Grenfell 2014). However, they (agents) do not always agree on the rules of the game. Agents who want to transform the game may try to change the rules of the game. Conservatives agents who wish to maintain the status quo would resist the change and a struggle would ensue (Benson and Neveu 2005). Thus, agents make use of their power (capital) to create and impose rules that favour them the most. Therefore, doxa is about “the journalistic gut feeling” (Schultz 2007: 45). For example, doxa accounts for how journalists make decisions on what is newsworthy and what is not—a nose for news. Capital is yet another essential tenet of the journalistic field. Capital entails the cultural, social and symbolic resources that journalists bring into the field. For news production and dissemination to take place, the agent has to invest capital into the process. For example, journalists can bring into the newsroom many years of experience, excellence and awards won in the process as forms of capital.

Bourdieu (1990) notes that the journalistic field is prone to dynamism, caused by changes within or without the field. Internal dynamics, however, mostly reproduce the structure of the field, and within the field include, amongst other issues, the journalists’ academic and professional background, how they rose within the field and where they attended school. Internal dynamics are also influenced by the habitus, doxa and capital. These factors can trigger changes in the field. Of central importance to this paper, however, is the second source of dynamism in the field—the pressure from neighbouring fields, or “external shocks” (Benson and Neveu 2005: 3). Bourdieu (1990) states that such external shocks, “could include new political orders brought by democratic processes, dramatic changes in the overall legal and economic policy environment, as well as specific media regulations, social and cultural, and economic crises” (Bourdieu 1990 quoted in Benson and Neveu 2005: 6). Therefore, this paper explores the extent to which the promulgation of the ICA contributed to such “external shocks” to journalism practices in Zimbabwe.

A note on methodology

This paper relied on in-depth semi-structured interviews with journalists working for four newspapers and media activists who share an interest in media issues in Zimbabwe, a total of nine journalists from The Daily News, Newsday, The Independent and The Standard. One former journalist at a state-controlled media house was also interviewed. It was challenging to get more respondents as the subject of surveillance is treated as a “sacrosanct” area in Zimbabwe, where only a few “brave ones” openly talk about it. Therefore, the researchers had to make do with available sources rather than to sample sources, as the population was small. In addition to available journalists, activists from two freedom-of-expression NGOs—the Media Institute of Southern Africa (Zimbabwe Chapter) and Digital Society of Zimbabwe (DSZ)—were interviewed. These NGOs have vast knowledge of surveillance policies in general and how these policies have affected journalism practices in the country. “Partial anonymisation” was adopted. This is when the identity of journalists is hidden as requested by participants, but other respondents indicated that they had no problems with disclosure.

Once transcription and collation of data was done, thematic analysis (Braun and Clarke 2006) was used to derive insights from the interviews. Thematic analysis is the process of identifying patterns or themes within qualitative data Braun and Clarke (2006). Braun and Clarke (2006: 84) distinguish between two levels of themes: semantic and latent, the former referring to the surface meanings of the data and where the researcher is not looking for anything beyond what a participant has said. The latent level looks beyond what has been said and identifies underlying ideas, assumptions and ideologies beneath the semantic level. The researchers used the semantic level of thematic analysis where themes emerged from the participants’ responses.

Presentation of findings

Using the theoretical framework discussed earlier, the next section presents empirical information on how the ICA has affected journalism practices in Zimbabwe. From the interviews, it was noted that investigative reporting had been the most affected by surveillance. Investigative reporting had suffered in three significant ways: (i) manufacturing fear amongst journalists, (ii) limiting the number of sources journalists have access to and (iii) the threat posed by metadata retention clauses. It was noted that surveillance has become a mechanism of journalists’ manipulation that has led to two broad consequences: (i) increased self-censorship amongst journalists and (ii) the ever-increasing panopticon tendencies of the state—and a way by the ruling elites to “police the Zimbabwean crisis”.

The effects of the ICA on investigative reporting

This section explores how investigative reporting, a central function of the press, has been affected by surveillance regulation policies in the country.

The manufacture of a climate of fear

One of the consequences of the ICA as a policy has been the creation of a climate of fear amongst journalists. Respondents said certain clauses in the ICA exerted real terror on journalism practices. They asserted that investigative reporters were targeted mainly because of their critical work of unravelling the malfeasance. Chief amongst these clauses was provision that provided for the Minister of State Security to be authorised to issue interception warrants if there is reasonable grounds that a person or persons’ gathering of information, “concerns an actual threat to national security or to any compelling national economic interests” (ICA, Section 6(1) (a)). The policy also provides that a warrant of surveillance may be issued by the minister responsible, director-general of intelligence or any other person designated as such, if the activity of information gathering by a person or persons, “concerns a potential threat public safety or national security” (ICA, Section 6(b) (1)). These clauses, among many others, are specifically tailored to ensure state surveillance institutions close off journalists from doing their work of information gathering and dissemination. More so,

These clauses if you carefully read them, you can see that they seem specifically tailored for journalists … otherwise, who else gather information … Look, the minister, the director generals and everyone listed as capable of giving permission for surveillance are all political figures … . (Respondent 1, personal communication, 12 April 2019)

Another respondent noted,

We cannot gather any news without being followed and remember it will be legal because there is a law authorising that … I remember when we were doing a story as a special project on the looting of diamonds at Chiadzwa mines … we occasionally received information from friends that we were being tracked … this was a sensitive matter … our communications were compromised … (Respondent 2, personal communication, 23 April 2019)

Such surveillance policies have triggered inhibitive fears amongst journalists. Good journalism thrives on free reporting, with no fear of being watched by an all-powerful state and its agencies (McStay 2017). In the Zimbabwean case, the journalism field now interacts with powerful agencies in the form of the state’s surveillance legal architecture and agencies that exert an influence on how newsgathering practices will take place (McNay 1990). A respondent noted,

Fear of surveillance is real in Zimbabwe because surveillance is taking place … especially amongst activists and journalist … the problem is that when you are an activist, you need to speak to journalists … now journalists are afraid to speak to us because the next time they speak to you, they are bugged, hacked and many such evidence of surveillance … . (Evan Mawarire (human rights activist), personal communication, 3 June 2019)

A journalist noted,

In the long run, what we call journalism in Zimbabwe will be dead … surveillance regulations are hanging out there like an axe, ready to cut to pieces any meaningful journalism … it is even worse when you work for a serious investigative paper … (Respondent 4, personal communication, 4 May 2019)

The law itself, journalists admitted, has “tattooed” the newsgathering and reporting context with,

A fear of the unknown, a fear that naturally governs you from expressing yourself as a journalist and storyteller … you are not sure where you will end up at … and when you hear stories of suffering through state agencies that your colleagues have suffered, then you have every reason to be cautious … (Respondent 3, personal communication, 23 April 2019)

The activist we interviewed at Digital Society Zimbabwe argue that the law is specifically tailored for journalists and activists.

I do not think it has much to do with everyone, it is about activists and journalists … even if the state is not surveilling on them often, the existence of the law itself makes one fearful … what happens if I venture to write stories that the state does not like? … (Tawanda Mugari, personal communication, 12 April 2019)

Thus, surveillance regulation limits journalists’ activities in the field. It becomes a significant factor in the practice that practitioners have to think of as part of the game, exerting an unfamiliar form of “occupational hazard” in the journalism field. One respondent noted,

When we were investigating the illegal export of diamonds by the military-owned company, Anjin at Chiadzwa, we occasionally received direct threats from military intelligence agencies that we were playing with fire … this was our secret project … we called it a special project which was top secret … but our military sources developed cold feet … they had been threatened … obvious the military was following our digital trail … we are certain that the internet cafes we have been visiting sold our information … remember we had vowed not to use our workplace computers we knew that might be seized … (Respondent 5, personal communication, April 2019)

Hitting brick walls: the death of investigative reporting in Zimbabwe

As a result of this policy-induced climate of fear, journalists noted that access to confidential sources necessary for investigative reporting has been curtailed. The overall view amongst respondents was that while surveillance broadly targeted all journalists, as a critical mass of society, it was worse amongst private-owned press journalists who did not take instructions from the state or any of its agencies and, hence, could not be “whipped” into line. Surveillance was also a response by the state to the economic and political crisis that bedevils the country. Zimbabwe has been in an economic crisis characterised by high inflation, declining wages, unemployment and general disillusionment (Makumbe 2009; Sachikonye 2012). The economic crisis has been worsened by a crisis of legitimacy that has routinely followed every election. Journalists say the state’s surveillance activities have been targeted at investigative journalists in order to,

… limit and censor the discourses of the crisis that the private-owned media churns out … surveillance is an attempt to strike fear in the hearts of investigative journalists so that they fear digging rot about the state and its elites and any stories that discomfited those in power … (Respondent 6, personal communication, 23 May 2019)

Another journalist responded, “Surveillance by the state strikes right at the centre of investigative practices” (Respondent 5, personal communication, 23 May, 2019).

Another journalist explained,

Surveillance activities by the state make us afraid of digging deep in matters of corruption, mismanagement of state resources, and rampant misgovernance (sic) … you know these factors have been at the centre of the economic problems … you do not know what happens when you start digging too deep … it’s easy to say you are threatening national security … or the economic interests of the state … (Respondent 7, personal communication, 24 May 2019)

Targeting investigative journalists has broadly negative consequences for the practice of journalism. Investigative reporting is one of the serious functions of the media (Coronel 2010). By targeting investigative reporters, state surveillance is targeting the very essence of the media’s survival. Surveillance regulation enables the state to retain information that journalists need to write stories on grounds of state secrets. Part of the ICA clause (section 7) states that the minister of state security, or any person acting in his/her capacity, can classify information as state secrets to protect the economic and political interests of the republic. There are no conditions for this classification provided. This means it is whimsical—the minister can act according to his/her whims. This limits the amount of information at the disposal of journalists. This is even worse when they are investigating wrongdoing by the very senior elites in the party and government. One respondent stated,

When we were investigating the issue of illegal land barons in Harare, we hit brick walls … council would not give us land parcelling reports … they said the reports were with the minister of local government … the minister refused flatly … he said these reports were classified and were subject to criminal investigations … (Respondent 8, personal communication, 23 May 2019)

Another activist said,

It is difficult for the journalists, like any other activists to interact with sources without being targeted by digital surveillance … the capabilities of the state in this regard seem to be growing … (Natasha Musonza, personal communication, 5 April 2019)

This means that even with the greatest of efforts, journalists’ efforts to protect their sources can only be achieved for a few fleeting moments. Once upon a time, journalists risked incarceration in defence of their sources (Zelizer 2009), but the ubiquity of state surveillance now means that state surveillance apparatus can easily track journalists’ sources. This was confirmed by another journalist, who said,

My encounter with surveillance was when, in 2008, we investigated OSLEG³ … we knew the military was benefitting from the diamonds and minerals in the DRC … but … when we wrote the first instalment of the illegal benefits … our sources went cold … we knew the military had tracked them down and silenced them … and we knew they have been tapping our conversation somehow because we had not reached out to our sources via email … (Respondent 5, personal communication, 2 April 2019)

Investigative reporting thrives on secrecy of sources and their protection (Ball, Lyon, and Haggerty 2012; McStay 2017). On the other hand, surveillance violates this privacy (Ball, Lyon, and Haggerty 2012) which investigative reporters often require, “to be able to deliver knowledge that is particularly damaging” (McStay 2017: 17). One journalist explained the immediate consequences,

Because everyone suspect that the state is surveilling them … it is now difficult for our sources to provide us with information we need … they are also afraid that since they hold important information, the state might be surveilling on them … In one of our stories, we worked together with the Centre for Natural Resources Governance (CNRG). But mid-way through the investigation, their computers were raided … our correspondences were seized … but the raid came after a long period of surveillance … the state wanted to find out who was providing stories about mineral leakages at the Reserve Bank and in the diamond fields … (Respondent 6, personal communication, 6 April 2019)

An activist at DSZ said, “I think if you relate Zimbabwe’s surveillance policies, you will agree that they make it difficult for whistle-blowers to come forward” (Tawanda Mugari, personal communication, 12 March 2019). Thus, the historically sacrosanct principle of the secrecy of sources around which successful investigative stories have been built (Coronel 2010) is no longer guaranteed in the age of wanton state surveillance. Lashmar (2017) notes that surveillance makes sources’ protection a critical concern in the practice of journalism: “The current [surveillance] situation will present all but the most determined from speaking to journalists. In effect, the threat of mass surveillance may all but eliminate confidential sources” (Lashmar 2017: 9). The socialised norms of the journalistic field—for example, the protection of sources (Bourdieu 1990 quoted in Benson and Neveu 2005)—become meaningless in surveillance contexts where the state can access the journalists’ sources by tracking their digital data.

Furthermore, journalists’ sources are a form of capital that they bring into the field (Bourdieu 1990). However, when these sources are jeopardised by new actors who invade the field, like surveillance agencies, it therefore means one of the journalists’ forms of capital is compromised, making it difficult for them to fulfil society’s expectations of journalism as a Fourth Estate (Coronel 2010).

Metadata retention clauses as a threat to investigative reporting

Some journalists noted that the ICA’s metadata retention is even more threatening to investigative reporting than any of its clauses. Metadata refers to data about data (Ball, Lyon, and Haggerty 2012). Examples of such include personal addresses, names, the contacts that have been called on a person’s phone, IP addresses, records of web domains visited and the location of data senders and receivers (McStay 2017). With regards to metadata retention, the ICA of Zimbabwe, Section 9(1) (a), states that:

A service provider must ensure that—(a) its postal or telecommunications systems are technically capable of supporting lawful interceptions at all times in accordance with section 12; (b) it installs hardware and software facilities and devices to enable interception of communications at all times or when so required, as the case may be; (c) its services are capable of rendering real-time and full time monitoring facilities for the interception of communications; (d) all call-related information is provided in real-time or as soon as possible upon call termination; (e) it provides one or more interfaces from which the intercepted communication shall be transmitted to the monitoring centre … 

Such provisions, journalists and activists say, allow state surveillance agencies to build a profile of their targets, the cases they are investigating and the sources they are contacting for information. One journalist said,

If through metadata retention clauses in ICA, the state can have all this information, then investigative reporting is as good as dead … there is no secrecy at all … (Respondent 4, personal communication, 24 April 2019)

Another respondent noted,

This means entire newsrooms can easily be placed under surveillance without knowing, as ISPs send this metadata to the state upon request … it’s clear you will never be safe as a journalist … (Ray Mwareya, personal communication, 12 March 2019)

One other consequence is that sources of information cannot be protected at all as the state can easily trace these sources. This is worsened by the fact that,

In Zimbabwe, people are afraid of losing their jobs … no one will volunteer information to anyone if they are afraid of being surveilled and if the consequence of such is losing one’s job … (Evan Mawarire, personal communication, 3 June 2019)

This provision has chilling effects on any journalists involved in investigating powerful elite forces. This provision of metadata collection is not unique to Zimbabwe. It has been adopted in many countries including the United Kingdom (see Anderson 2015). Collection of metadata is deemed cheaper than traditional methods of surveillance (Lyon 2013; McStay 2017). In the Zimbabwean context, mobile network operators (MNOs) and internet service prodivers (ISPs) help surveillance agencies to rely on ISPs and MNOs for the collection and provision of such metadata as provided for by the ICA. It is also easy because it relies on journalists who naturally and unwittingly offer plentiful metadata about themselves through everyday digital communication as they build stories—“digital footprints” (McStay 2017: 45). Thus, the journalistic field is ruptured and has to contend with many challenges on top of the traditional ones of chasing paper trails to build a story. Surveillance policies become a cat thrown amongst the pigeons.

Surveillance as a mechanism of journalists’ manipulation

The aims of state surveillance in Zimbabwe also include inducing paranoia as a strategy. Ultimately, journalists are manipulated by ether real or threatened surveillance. One respondent noted,

We would then have to consider when we get a tip of a story, is it not too sensitive that I may end up being on the receiving end of surveillance. You know when the National Oil Company (NOCZIM) looting scandal exploded in around 2010? We were hesitant to tackle it … it’s because the senior intelligence officials, the military, the police and powerful cabinet ministers were involved … we could not take the risk … I think everyone was surprised why we were quiet … (Respondent 7, personal communication, 24 May 2019)

Another respondent noted,

When you get a tip about let’s say looting of a parastatal as is common in Zimbabwe these days, you have to think twice, who are involved with the parastatals … it will not end up well if this include the military or state security agencies … You see in 2013, we were comfortable reporting the looting of the Constituency Development Fund … it involved members of parliament, and remember even those from the opposition were involved … (Respondent 2, personal communication, 23 May 2019)

So, surveillance is a mechanism to keep journalists away from matters that are important by inducing as much fear of surveillance consequences as is possible. One respondent noted in addition, “The state deliberately sends a wave of fear by [deliberately] stocking suspicions of surveillance both real and imaginary … ” (Respondent 5, personal communication, 22 May 2019).

Respondents also stated that to achieve the manipulation of journalists and keep them away from essential stories, the state thrives on extra-legal surveillance. Section 11(a) of the ICA stipulates that authority to surveil shall be granted by the Minister of State Security. However, journalists and activists think such ministerial consent is never given,

We have had proven cases of journalists handling certain stories being surveilled … with tapped phone calls, emails bugged … I really doubt in all those instances ministerial permission has been granted … We know that, for instance, journalists who were investigating the massive looting of the National pension fund administrator, NASSA, had their communication bugged … remember the looting of NASSA is still shaking the corridors of power … (MISA activist, personal communication, 24 May 2019)

Another activist said,

Once you become aware that your colleagues are being monitored, you naturally tone down … even your enthusiasm about a certain story dies … it is difficult to seek accountability from a state that bugs your emails and tap your phone calls, … you are actually at their mercy. (MISA activist, personal communication, 24 May 2019)

Another respondent noted that the dismissal of some journalists in the state-owned newspapers in early 2019 was based on information gathered through surveillance.

I know some colleagues of mine were demoted and transferred to be “bureau chiefs” which is a demotion. They all agree the state surveil on them … it is no secret that the state follows us and knows more through its digital surveillance activities … I am convinced we are monitored by the state … (Respondent 2, personal communication, 24 May 2019)

Foucault’s (1977) panopticism states that surveillance makes the observed assume submissive roles within an existing power structure. Foucault further says that the surveilled, in a bid to conform, may become more docile and hence easy to control and manipulate.

Discussion

The article has explored the effects of Zimbabwe’s surveillance policy, the ICA, on the practice of journalism in the country. Surveillance has ruptured and disrupted the journalistic field in Zimbabwe. It has induced fear amongst journalists, who are no longer able to practice, especially investigative journalism, without fear of being threatened by the state. Journalists note that they can no longer hold the state to account without fear of reprisals. What makes this kind of surveillance, as is happening in Zimbabwe, lethal is the fact that there is no proven evidence that it happens within established rules and regulation, no matter how porous these rules are. Because much of this surveillance on journalists has nothing to do with crime and terrorism, it has become a manipulative exercise by the state to keep journalists at bay as corruption among top political elites spread, and accountability breaks down in the Zimbabwe state (Makumbe 2009; Sachikonye 2011). As (journalist) sources are watched, they shy away from being important whistle-blowers and cease to be conduits of the media’s watchdog role. Every serious journalism practice would rely on paper trails (Munoriyarwa 2018). For the Zimbabwean journalist this comes at a cost, and the cost is digital exposure of their own identities, their metadata, which the state has manipulated for the purpose of keeping the media away from corrupt and unaccountable behaviour.

Surveillance, both real and perceived, has disrupted the predictability of journalistic practices—how journalists gather their news and report their news has been disrupted. Surveillance policies hang, like an abatross on journalists’ necks, making it difficult for them to be sure about whether specific stories can be pursued without risks to them and their sources. The symbolic capital of journalists, for example their connections to essential individuals with news and connection to news (Mason et al. 2016), is adulterated and compromised by the entry of new agents into the journalistic filed—the state and its surveillance institutions. Journalists, as a result of fear, fail to tie down new sources and existing ones cease to make meaning as they fear state surveillance. The field of journalism has been “invaded” by more powerful agents in the form of state surveillance agencies who now wield too much power over the media, which, ideally, should be fenced off from manipulation and interference by the state.

There are issues of trust that arise as a consequence of surveillance. The journalistic field thrives on different levels of trust. Firstly, journalists ought to trust that the state will allow them to execute their mandate as the fourth estate without fear. On the other hand, journalistic sources ought to divulge information that helps expose wrongdoing without fear that they will be exposed and persecuted. In this regard, trust is a two-way system—between the journalists and the state; and between the journalists and their sources. This trust is, however, ruptured when surveillance is thrown into the mix—like the proverbial cat amongst the pigeons. Surveillance, therefore, is targeted at both the journalist and the source. Once these two agencies fail to build sufficient trust for each other, the journalistic field is disrupted. Consequently, journalists have scaled back from criticising and reporting on serious matters that sit at the heart of state accountability to citizens. Thus, debates are stifled, and the press goes for “soft stories” that raise no misgivings from those in power. This stifles a free and inquisitive press which is a prerequisite of any democracy.

In conclusion, this paper has noted that surveillance policies in Zimbabwe have interrupted the collective “journalistic habitus”. Journalists can no longer follow the “acknowledged” and widely held newsgathering routines as a result of the interference of state surveillance policies. Common-sense practices that engender doxa are equally disrupted. There is a need for future research to delve into issues of surveillance resistance. How do journalists navigate the minefield of surveillance? Future research may also widen into the region for a cross-national comparison of how journalists are routinely affected by state surveillance policies.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Notes

1 In 2013 Edward Snowden revealed that the US government was involved in massive surveillance practices that targeted many individuals and were extra-legal.

2 Starting in the late 1990s and still ongoing, Zimbabwe has experienced a profound economic and political crisis that is complex and multifaceted.

3 OSLEG (Operation Sovereign Legitimacy) was a codename given to the military intervention by Zimbabwe in the Democratic Republic of Congo in 2001. But even after the withdrawal from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), the military top commanders are said to have remained in the DRC and were involved in illegal mining and timber exploitation.