John Martinkus and what we've got wrong about journalism

The pecking order in Australian journalism still remains, and how to challenge it.

I’m Bel Lopez, and this is Story Doula, a newsletter exploring why we tell stories and how we stay connected— with our communities, with each other, with ourselves.

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The Australian war correspondent John Martinkus died this week. John's reporting on East Timor, Papua, Indonesia and many other places helped shape history.

John’s journalism helped make me aware of what it was to be a citizen in my region, far more than my school education ever did, of belonging to a place in the world beyond Australia, and our obligation to understand the past and present that enveloped it.

And when I began to work in Indonesia and Australia, I came to understand that the pecking order of journalism, of star reporters and poorly-paid freelance stringers— as John had often worked — was not always a merit system, or reflective of the effort and dedication of a journalist's commitment to telling the truth about a place and its people. I was glad to see he was recognised with the Order of Timor-Leste last year by President Jose Ramos-Horta for his courageous reporting in 1999.

There’s a great interview on the ABC with his former colleague Mark Davis this week about his work and the price he paid for his dedication to East Timor and other struggles, long before the Australian press was paying attention. Mark said:

“The demons never left John…He was very frustrated that people weren't paying attention to the story… It's a trauma to live amongst that and to see people tortured and often people were killed…It really ate at him. It never left him.”

His work first appeared in small stories, a single voice that slowly helped attract a larger swarm of international mainstream media attention to human rights abuses in East Timor in the 1990s.

At the time, John was rarely granted access to the VIP club of international foreign correspondents; instead living off precarious freelance payments that sounded more like an honorarium than a living wage.

But now we are in a new era. The VIP clubs are closing their doors. Many of the bureaus overseas have shut down, and the foreign journalists have gone home. Life as an international freelancer has for many years been mostly untenable, perhaps even more so than in Martinkus’ time.

What often remains now are foreign journalists compiling articles from digital sources far away, and local journalists reporting on the ground at great personal risk. Most recent reports in Gaza state that more than two hundred Palestinian journalists have been killed in the conflict, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists.

In a great recent article, journalist Nour Swiriki told the ABC:

“In other wars, the vests and helmets are signs to keep open fire away. This is the norm in the world but not in Gaza," the journalist said.

“It tells me one thing — that my life is worth nothing to the world.”

Al Jazeera has compiled a list of names of those killed. ‘Israel deliberately kills Al Jazeera journalists’, the broadcaster now states.

Most of my subscribers are Australian, and so I think we also need to reckon with what it means to actually support journalism in our region, the place that we belong to. Last week, Pacific journalists were reportedly barred from Anthony Albanese’s press conference… at the Pacific Islands Forum!

The pecking order in Australian journalism still remains, and the measure of those who take the most risk is often inverse to those who reap the highest rewards.

I can offer one suggestion, particularly about the region of the world where John worked that I know best, in West Papua. It is to support the ecosystem of independent Papuan media outlets who work in often challenging conditions, including Tabloid Jubi, which accepts donations via their website, and Suara Papua, which allows monthly subscribers (a tiny AU$1.49 per month currently) via Facebook (and disclosure: I used to contribute to a now defunct newsletter called Voice of Papua, which summarised Suara Papua’s reporting in English).

Most of these outlets’ reporting is in Indonesian, but that doesn’t matter, even if you don’t read the language. Like Martinkus’ small articles, their reporting provides on-the-ground testimony from Papuans that is consumed in leads and quotes and news angles (not always credited!) by mainstream outlets in Indonesia and Australia, at a time when access to Papua is severely restricted, especially for foreign reporters.

Tabloid Jubi has recently published more stories in English with the Pulitzer Centre, another step in the proper recognition of its reportage internationally.

And for those in Sydney, you have an opportunity to hear the brave editor of Tabloid Jubi, Victor Mambor, speak in person. Victor has faced several threats because of his reporting and leadership, including Molotov bomb attacks at the Jubi office and his own home. Police later closed the case for ‘lack of evidence’.

Victor will be speaking and showing two excellent documentaries produced by Tabloid Jubi next Wednesday, 24th September, in Marrickville. Tickets are free! Let me know if you can come, and let’s meet up!