Radio 021: From Fires and Pressures to Absurd Lawsuits | BIRN

Slobodan Krajinović joined 021 at the end of 1999. He started as a reporter and has held various editorial positions, and since 2005, he has been the editor-in-chief. He is also the director of the company today.

We spoke with him about how 021 has survived for nearly three decades, what it means today to be an independent local media outlet in Serbia, and what price the editorial team pays for reporting on protests and legal proceedings.

You joined 021 back in 1999. How do you view that beginning today, and what did it mean to you to work in that newsroom at the time?

It was a great honor for me. I was proud to tell my friends: “Hey, I’m working here now,” because we all listened to that radio station. It had enormous listenership.

It was the only truly independent media outlet, despite being partially funded by the then city authorities. It was independent in its editorial policy and always focused on protecting the public interest.

What was it like to work in independent media during the Milošević era?

It was not easy. Journalists at 021 were often taken in for questioning by the police during the 1990s. The transmitter was confiscated twice, which meant that the program was forcibly interrupted.

This was a time when the internet practically did not exist as a means for a local media outlet to reach an audience. Transmitting information to the citizens was extremely difficult, and the struggle for every moment on air was very important.

One of the most dramatic events was the fire at 021’s premises in April 2000 at the Workers' University, where our offices were located on the top floor.

In the fire, a woman who worked one floor below, at Duga TV, lost her life. It was never determined whether the fire was deliberately started or if the electrical installations caught fire.

Our premises were completely burned down. Everything was lost, from the transmitter to the vinyl records that the editors brought. But the program was quickly restored, and we continued to work.

After October 5, it seemed that independent media would have an easier time. Did that happen?

The problem changed. Independent media could be funded through donations during the 1990s. A few days after October 5, the then director held a meeting with the staff and said something I remember as if it were yesterday.

He said: “Half of the donors packed their bags and left Serbia yesterday, and the other half is considering leaving in the next year.” This meant that if we wanted to work and survive, we had to turn to ourselves, to marketing and market positioning. This has remained the case to this day.

How important is financial independence for editorial independence?

It is crucial. National media depend on large advertisers and marketing agencies. It’s a controlled market. Without agreements, deals, and reciprocation, it is difficult to access that money. There’s also funding from public enterprises and the state.

If we relied on advertisements brought to us by large marketing agencies, we could simply shut the company down.

We developed a different system. About 90 percent of our advertising comes from the local small economy. We have around 200 clients annually. We sell directly, without intermediaries.

We have created a good commercial media outlet. Independent, informative, but commercial.

Small media in smaller communities often lack an economy from which they can charge for advertising. They have no means to survive except perhaps from a local pizzeria.

They can either receive funding from the local government and be under its control or try to rely on donor assistance. Novi Sad is, after all, a large city that is growing and has enough small businesses for such a model to function.

In the past year, 021 has been particularly visible due to reporting on protests. What was that period like from the newsroom perspective?

It was hell for us. In Novi Sad, something was happening practically every day. Sometimes it was a large demonstration, other times it was just a blockade of an intersection.

We realized that the audience expected constant reports from us on the ground. When something happened, people came to us and waited for relevant coverage.

Because of this, we attended absolutely every event, along with all the other stories we were working on.

We calculated that we published around 9,000 different pieces of content, articles, videos, and social media posts over the year. That’s about 30 a day.

How large is the editorial team that produced that content?

About 12 people. On the website, we have three administrators who perform editorial tasks, three or four field journalists, a freelance contributor for analytical and investigative stories, and three people on the radio.

It’s a small newsroom. And that’s why it took a significant toll.

What kind of toll?

People became exhausted. There were no days off, annual vacations were shortened or postponed. If someone needed to take a vacation and you sensed that something would happen, you told them to postpone it.

One colleague said she could no longer continue and left. A colleague fell during the protests in front of the Faculty of Philosophy and received a kick in the kidneys from a police officer. After that, he resigned and said, “This is not for me.” That’s the price the editorial team paid.

As an editor, how did you decide how much risk journalists should take in the field?

Our guideline was to avoid entering violent events and that journalists didn’t have to be right in the center of everything. When we see a problem arising, we pull them back. But you can’t predict everything.

At the Faculty of Philosophy, our journalist was in a crowd, under tear gas and in the dark, and was beaten by a police officer. It didn’t matter that he was showing a press card.

On the other hand, the journalists were incredibly dedicated. I remember seeing in the internal group at ten in the evening that students were organizing a traffic blockade at four in the morning, and a heavy downpour was forecasted. I wrote: “Please, don’t go. We don’t have to be at every event.” They went. They got soaked and reported. And I’m proud of them.

Are there today any direct political pressures on 021?

We don’t face physical threats or political calls in the sense that someone calls us and tells us what to do. But we are not liked. They don’t invite us to events. It’s difficult to get responses. We receive threats in comments and emails, and there are accusations on social media. And we have lawsuits. All of these are pressures and difficult working conditions.

One of the current cases is the lawsuit from Nemanja Šarović. What happened in this case?

We reported on a statement by Ana Brnabić from RTS, in which she said that Nemanja Šarović was “Đilas’s mercenary.” RTS published her appearance in full. We faithfully reported the news from RTS, cited the source, linked to it, and clearly indicated what her quote was. We did not comment or alter anything.

Šarović sued us for defamation. The court ultimately ruled against 021, ordering us to pay him 70,000 dinars in damages, along with court costs. At the same time, his lawsuit against Ana Brnabić, the person who made that statement, was dismissed. So, the person who said something is not responsible, while the media that reported it is.

What do you find most controversial in that ruling?

The court accepted that we did not receive a denial. It acknowledged that Šarović is a public figure and must endure greater criticism. It also recognized that we acted professionally, responsibly, and that we accurately reported the statement. Yet it still ruled against us.

The judge believed we should have additionally called Šarović and sought his response. Then the question arises: what is the purpose of the media if you cannot report what a government representative said on a public service program, but you must call four or five people she mentioned and wait for their responses for several days, when the news is no longer relevant? That’s why we appealed the ruling.

You also mentioned lawsuits over photographs and recordings from protests. Why do you consider them particularly problematic?

One lawsuit we are expecting relates to a recording from in front of RTS. It is a recording showing a gendarme hitting a police officer in civilian clothing. That recording was of exceptional public interest because it showed what actually happened. We took a screenshot from it.

Now we are being sued for nearly 400,000 dinars for copyright infringement. We have another similar case involving a recording of a car that passed through a crowd at a blockade and seriously injured a girl. Again, we took a frame from the video as a document of what happened. And we are going to court again.

Do you consider these lawsuits to be SLAPP actions?

I cannot say that these are classic SLAPP lawsuits, like in cases where someone targets a small media outlet with dozens of lawsuits to financially drain it. However, we occasionally see exceedingly questionable political connotations in the lawsuits we receive.

As far as we know, regime tabloids and media have not been sued for the same things. I cannot assert anything, but it is suspicious.

A cloud of doubt has recently appeared over these lawsuits, whether they are truly just civil lawsuits regarding defamation, reputation, or copyright, or if there is something more behind them.

When you look back over nearly three decades of 021, what is the most important thing the editorial team has managed to preserve?

021 has long grown into a brand of Novi Sad. Not just a media brand, but a brand of Novi Sad. We have preserved the principled stance regarding what professional and responsible journalism is and what it means to report in the public interest.

From the period of Slobodan Milošević through the various governments that followed him, I believe we have managed to endure a great deal and become a respected media outlet.

Author: Aleksandar Đorđević

Source: BIRN