In 1992, I had a chance to visit the United States as part of a journalist exchange programme. Among my travel stops was the newsroom of The Washington Post. Ben Bradlee, it’s legendary editor has just retired, but the ghosts of the Bradlee era and the infamous Watergate expose loomed large over the news space. All the Presidents Men had immortalised Bradlee and his two star reporters, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. But beyond celluloid, Bradlee retained the respect of his peers because he was a newsman till the very end. I sometimes ask myself: where are the great editors of our times who remain committed to the news and little else? There are a few in this country, but all too few. In too many newsrooms across this country, the editor’s role has been diminished: some have become fixers, others do netagiri. There are very few left like Bradlee: a 24 x 7 newsman who just loved the idea of a cracking good story. I did watch the American television series, Newsroom, earlier this year: it was a peep into a world where the journalist was bravely trying to retain a shrinking space that was being lost to the men in suits from the corporate world. The balance of power has shifted: there was a time when editors believed they ran the country, now they struggle to impose their presence on the news. We don’t need editors with king size egoes, neither do we need those who are timid enough to acquiesce to any intrusion in the sacred space of the newsroom. The Washington Post of the Bradlee era is a reminder of what we need to be: story tellers with passion and integrity who challenge and question authority, not be cowed down or intimidated by the scent of power. Bradlee RIP.
