“Já se divertiram o suficiente. (…) Não precisam de escrever mais”

A detenção de David Miranda durante nove horas, no aeroporto de Heathrow, não foi o único ataque à liberdade de imprensa no Reino Unido provocado pela publicação das sucessivas notícias com base nos documentos revelados por Edward Snowden. O The Guardian, o jornal onde Glenn Greenwald publicou a maioria das histórias sobre os sistemas secretos de vigilância electrónica da NSA, foi ameaçado pelo governo britânico: ou entregava a documentação ou a destruía. Caso contrário seria fechado judicialmente. Durante meses sucederam-se as pressões e os telefonemas. Até que os editores decidiram destruir o disco rígidos que continha a informação, na presença de funcionários do executivo britânico.

Foi uma destruição simbólica: a maior parte do trabalho sobre este tema já é feito em Nova Iorque ou no Rio de Janeiro. Os documentos estão guardados em várias localizações, por várias pessoas e as notícias sobre o assunto continuarão a ser publicadas. Ainda assim, o governo manteve-se inflexível. 

O resto do computador destruído. Fotografia:  Roger Tooth

O resto do computador destruído. Fotografia: Roger Tooth


Na segunda-feira à noite, o editor do The Guardian, Alan Rusbridger, contou toda a história, na sequência da detenção de David Miranda. Esta é a parte mais impressionante. 

“A little over two months ago I was contacted by a very senior government official claiming to represent the views of the prime minister. There followed two meetings in which he demanded the return or destruction of all the material we were working on. The tone was steely, if cordial, but there was an implicit threat that others within government and Whitehall favoured a far more draconian approach.

The mood toughened just over a month ago, when I received a phone call from the centre of government telling me: “You’ve had your fun. Now we want the stuff back.” There followed further meetings with shadowy Whitehall figures. The demand was the same: hand the Snowden material back or destroy it. I explained that we could not research and report on this subject if we complied with this request. The man from Whitehall looked mystified. “You’ve had your debate. There’s no need to write any more.”

During one of these meetings I asked directly whether the government would move to close down the Guardian’s reporting through a legal route – by going to court to force the surrender of the material on which we were working. The official confirmed that, in the absence of handover or destruction, this was indeed the government’s intention. Prior restraint, near impossible in the US, was now explicitly and imminently on the table in the UK. But my experience over WikiLeaks – the thumb drive and the first amendment – had already prepared me for this moment. I explained to the man from Whitehall about the nature of international collaborations and the way in which, these days, media organisations could take advantage of the most permissive legal environments. Bluntly, we did not have to do our reporting from London. Already most of the NSA stories were being reported and edited out of New York. And had it occurred to him that Greenwald lived in Brazil?

The man was unmoved. And so one of the more bizarre moments in the Guardian’s long history occurred – with two GCHQ security experts overseeing the destruction of hard drives in the Guardian’s basement just to make sure there was nothing in the mangled bits of metal which could possibly be of any interest to passing Chinese agents. “We can call off the black helicopters,” joked one as we swept up the remains of a MacBook Pro.

Whitehall was satisfied, but it felt like a peculiarly pointless piece of symbolism that understood nothing about the digital age. We will continue to do patient, painstaking reporting on the Snowden documents, we just won’t do it in London. The seizure of Miranda’s laptop, phones, hard drives and camera will similarly have no effect on Greenwald’s work.

The state that is building such a formidable apparatus of surveillance will do its best to prevent journalists from reporting on it. Most journalists can see that. But I wonder how many have truly understood the absolute threat to journalism implicit in the idea of total surveillance, when or if it comes – and, increasingly, it looks like “when”.

We are not there yet, but it may not be long before it will be impossible for journalists to have confidential sources. Most reporting – indeed, most human life in 2013 – leaves too much of a digital fingerprint. Those colleagues who denigrate Snowden or say reporters should trust the state to know best (many of them in the UK, oddly, on the right) may one day have a cruel awakening. One day it will be their reporting, their cause, under attack. But at least reporters now know to stay away from Heathrow transit lounges.”

O artigo completo pode ser lido aqui

1 thought on ““Já se divertiram o suficiente. (…) Não precisam de escrever mais”

  1. Pingback: Portugal Imprensa - “Já se divertiram o suficiente. (…) Não precisam de escrever mais”

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