On war and my birthday

HAPPY WORLD PRESS FREEDOM DAY and happy birthday to me

Do you know how I always brag about how close my birthday is to Karl Marx’s and Sigmund Freud’s? Marx was born May 5, 1818, while Freud May 6, 1856. And I was born… May 4, 1983. I think May 4, 5, 6 are the best birthday-dates, ever!!

Oh and plus, May 3 is the World Press Freedom Day. Happy #WPFD fellow journalists, press freedom all the way!!

I think my best birthday gift this year is the discussion I attended last night at AJI Jakarta to celebrate the World Press Freedom Day [the second best gift would be a book called 13 Bankers: The Wall Street Takeover and the Next Financial Meltdown to be soon given by one of my good friends -- he said the book is on its way tho].

The discussion last night was about the very important aspect related to one of my biggest dreams of being a war correspondent [I know it's not a noble ambition, hoping for conflicts in the world, but I have some arguments]: safety for journalists covering the conflict zones.

AJI Jakarta invited three seasoned journalists Andi Riccardi from AP [the coolest dude, ever!], Qaris Tajudin from Tempo, and Arie Basuki also from Tempo [a photographer]. Qaris and Arie shared their latest experiences covering Egypt and Libya’s uprisings, while Andi shared his many many experiences covering conflict zones both in Indonesia and overseas.

What makes the discussion so special for me? Well, despite the fact that I learned how important it is for journalists to have a good company that can back them up with good insurance and equipments needed in covering conflicts or wars, the discussion got me to believe that yes, I still can be a war corro. Oh, yes, Indeed, I can!!!

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Coz journalists don’t have nine lives

“NO STORY IS worth your life.”

My former editor, @apathoni, tweeted the credo late Tuesday after confirmed news on the death of a journalist in Mount Merapi flooding our Twitter’s timeline.

It is indeed mournful to read the story confirming Yuniawan Nugroho’s death. Yuniawan — known to his close friends as Wawan — was the head of the political desk at news portal Vivanews.com assigned to cover Mount Merapi’s eruption.

He passed away in the Merapi’s gatekeeper’s, Mbah Maridjan, house [his names was only Maridjan, mbah is a Javanese word for grandfather] who was also killed during the eruption.

Both were in Mbah Maridjan’s house in the Kinahrejo village, on the slope of the mountain — about 4 kilometers from the peak of Mount Merapi. Wawan went there to interview the 83 year-old man. As the mount’s gatekeeper, many believe Mbah Maridjan had the power to speak to the spirits of the volcano. Many believe he could tell when the mountain would erupt and when it would stop.

You all probably have read the news, how Indonesia has been suffering from natural disasters lately. The earthquakes, floods, and the latest in Mentawai Islands, West Sumatra: a tsunami. And in Central Java, we have one of our volcanoes erupted.

The disasters claimed hundreds, including a journalist, Wawan.

Journalists, those dudes who always want to go in, when everyone else wants to just get out of the catastrophes.

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Who’s committing suicide, media mates?

I SORT OF felt like a hero two days ago, after, literally, revealing truth and saving the face of Indonesian glorious media. Well, not to a big audience tho, just to a taxi driver who was a hundred percent sure that the Indonesian National Police Chief Bambang Hendarso Danuri has just committed suicide.

What? You ask did the National Police Chief actually commit suicide? Of course not. He just went missing somewhere nobody knows healing his gastro problem as claimed by his spokesman [finally today he showed up, tho!]. And there, what I meant by revealing truth. Plus, yes, saving the face of Indonesian glorious media!

A bit blur this one. Not a good pic I took. Try to see one below!

A clearer one, but accidentally cut one word: DIRI.

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Compare yourself to Assange!

A doorstop interview in the House of Representatives PHOTO: M. Andri Nurdiansyah

I FEEL so small reading Philip Shenon’s reportage on the moves took by the Obama administration to crack down on WikiLeaks, related to some 70,000 documents on Afghan war they released recently.

It’s not Shenon’s piece that impressed me [although, of course, I still give him my highest respect for securing an exclusive headline], it’s the ‘actor’ in the Shenon’s article.

He is Julian Assange, an Australian-born journalist/programmer, editor-in-chief of WikiLeaks who is now believed to be in a big trouble because of the leaks he spread. Assange has been described as someone who doesn’t actually have a real home and that he travels and stays at friends or supporters’ houses around the globe.

Reading how he has been very bold [and yet careless, some critics said] in leaking the documents he received — and that American government is now trying to get him along with hopeful helps from their allies Germany, British, and Australia — left me ponder.

Compares to what Assange has done and is planning to do [releasing some 15,000 more documents], I am absolutely nothing. [this also goes to all war correspondents at across the universe!]

I don’t wake up in the morning for some jets or gunshots or suicide bombs. I don’t travel to dangerous places or conflict zones. I don’t have police or state intelligence agency officials interrogate me in the middle of a night due to some stories I write.

Julian Assange in or before 2006 PHOTO: Wikipedia

I wake up every morning to the sound of the sun, and I walk to the Parliament to meet some sources. I write some stuff, telling people what’s going on, bringing their voices in my writings, criticizing politicians’ wrongdoings etc. I always believe that I am here guarding democracy — now this idea making me laugh, coz compare to Assange?

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Does Gaza need you?

I DREAM big. So giant am dreaming of becoming a war correspondent one day. I understand that’s not one noble ambition, because by wanting to be one I need at least a war to be covered. And surely, I despise wars.

I am here not talking with the “vampire-journalists” perspective who feed on blood. The only reason of me wanting to be sent away to a war zone is because I want the world to know what really happens. I want to help people and give them hopes through my writings. Criticizing attackers and war criminals, pushing responsible parties to act and punish human rights violators.

My destination is fixed: Gaza.

I have been reading stories and reportages on Gaza for the past two years now — both from mainstream and indie media. I also follow many Gaza activists on Twitter. I must admit that I probably get a bit “obsessed” with Palestine-Israel conflicts. I badly want to go there — interviewing people, writing exclusive stories, witnessing what happens and later on telling the world all of it.

So as you have heard, read, and seen on newspapers and televisions, Israel has gone mad again by attacking Freedom Flotilla earlier this week. A ship carried aids with international peace activists on it, floating in international waters.

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