Ladies and gentlemen,
Friends,

Welcome to Oslo! And thank you for the invitation to speak on a topic that has made a profound impression on all of us: the tsunami disaster and its aftermath.

As we now watch in horror the images from the earthquake devastation in Pakistan, we are reminded once again how powerless we are in the face of natural disasters, and how important it is that we come together as a world community to alleviate the pain and suffering they cause. We cannot stop these events from occurring, but we can improve our response to them. This is why it is crucial to take the time to look back, and to learn from what has gone before. It is crucial for governments – and it is crucial for the media.

The sheer scale of the tsunami made it a news story of unusual proportions, but there was more to it than that. We saw this in Norway for sure, but I think also in most other Western countries. From the first uncertain reports of the wave that trickled in right after Christmas, until the enormous numbers of deaths were confirmed weeks later, this was a story like few others. Hordes of journalists descended on the region, as did aid workers and government officials. Relationships between your people – the journalists, and my people – the aid community, varied greatly, from courteous and cooperative to contentious. Often over the whole range in a single day.

Nevertheless, we depend on each other in situations like this.

And I believe we all have something to learn from the events that unfolded in Southeast Asia last Christmas.

It is important that we meet to discuss these issues. The 20/20 of hindsight helps us see what could have been done, what should have been done – and what we must try to do next time a disaster of this magnitude strikes.

I will offer my views on the tsunami coverage as seen from my vantage point – the Ministry of Foreign Affairs here in Norway, and I look forward to a frank and fruitful discussion with all of you afterwards.

The media

The American civil rights activist Malcolm X said that

“ The media is the most powerful entity on earth. They have the power to make the innocent guilty and to make the guilty innocent...”

And I would add: the power to capture the world’s attention, to engage the public, to make people open their hearts and their wallets.

We saw this clearly in the aftermath of the tsunami.

The tsunami, estimated to be one of the ten worst natural disasters in recent history, caused record numbers of deaths, devastation on a scale we could hardly fathom, and a long-term impact that will be with us for generations.

It also gave us record amounts of media coverage.

Listen to this:

According to Reuters’ “AlertNet”, the Indian Ocean tsunami got more media attention in the first six weeks after it struck than all of the world’s “forgotten” emergencies combined had received in the past year. This was based on an analysis of more than 200 English-language newspapers. The “forgotten” crises were Congo, Sudan, Uganda, HIV/AIDS, infectious diseases, West Africa, Colombia, Chechnya, Nepal and Haiti.

We saw the same thing happen here.

Over those first six weeks, the media coverage in Norway was immense. The response was immediate and compassionate. Television, radio and newspapers overflowed with reports of tourists caught in the disaster areas, heartbreaking stories of loved ones lost and lives forever changed.

There was coverage of the local impact of the disaster, but often as viewed by visiting Norwegians. There were stories of locals helping Norwegians, of Norwegian helping locals, of hotel managers whose livelihoods were destroyed, of beach geography before and after the wave – all described by some tourist or another.

Watching the news unfold from Norway, the main story seemed to be “the tsunami impact on Norwegians”. My understanding is that the coverage was similar in many other European countries, focusing on the “home” aspects of the story. Journalists followed the travellers closely, often too closely in my opinion. The victims’ fear, grief and anger poured out, raw and unfiltered. It was a compelling story, and one that needed to be told. The question is whether it was the main story, and whether it needed to be told so many times – considering the scale of the pain and suffering of the local population.

A key part of the coverage was the Norwegian government’s response to the travellers, which was perceived to be inadequate. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs was criticised for lack of speed and sympathy, for lack of personnel and resources on the beaches of Thailand, for cumbersome administrative routines, for not appropriately serving the Norwegians involved –for doing pretty much everything wrong. The media coverage turned quite aggressive, with the top management at the Ministry singled out for unrelenting complaints and personal attacks. Altogether it became a firestorm that has left a deep impression on our Foreign Service personnel around the globe. It has profoundly changed the way our ministry responds to crisis situations where Norwegians may be involved.

Overall, I would say this was a good thing. Much of the initial tsunami criticism was justified. We could have done more, faster, better.

But some of the criticism was too harsh, possibly fuelled by an urge to “get” an institution traditionally perceived as elitist and uncaring. In my opinion, some of the complaints also highlighted the fact that the level of service expected by some travellers is just not possible for any government to deliver. When a disaster of this magnitude strikes, governments will always fall short.

The criticism has had a serious impact on the Foreign Service. Its response to the tsunami was analysed by a government commission earlier this year, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs is taking great care in following up their recommendations.

The scale of the tsunami took everyone by surprise – and forced many to make changes. Over the past nine months, we have seen considerable changes in the way parts of the government respond to crises around the world. We will never be able to deliver everything critics want, but our service has improved and our budgets have been increased.

So we have changed. The tsunami taught us a lesson. But today I would like to turn it around and ask you: What about the media? Did this enormous disaster change the way you operate in any way? Did the media’s handling of the situation reveal strengths and weaknesses that were previously unrecognised? Have the media, like the government, seized this as an opportunity for introspection and improvement? Did the magnitude of the tsunami reverberate into the newsrooms and reaffirm the need for knowledge-based, long-term coverage of faraway regions and the money to pay for it? Has there been a shift in the coverage of foreign news? As the crisis deepened, did the journalism follow suit? Or was “the story” mainly over by the time CNN went home?

Let me tell you how it looked to me – as a government minister, as a frequent traveller to crisis regions, and as a former journalist. I will start by looking at the coverage in general.

Media coverage

The tsunami was a huge story in terms of lives lost. But the numbers were still small compared with the number of people killed in conflicts like those in Sudan and Congo, or dying from preventable diseases every year. Why, then, is the tsunami story so much more compelling?

The US newspaper Christian Science Monitor recently ran a commentary piece by an NGO representative, Graham Wood from Ockenden International, about why the tsunami disaster received such massive coverage all over the world. Wood offered the following reasons why the tsunami was such a compelling story, and why it triggered such unequalled generosity:

• It offered dramatic pictures and easy news, requiring a lot of sympathy but little analysis or debate.
• It affected many people in developed nations – which meant that it became local news, long-distance.
• It reinforced our perception of those in the region as victims. This made people more willing to give money to this specific cause, but did little to educate the public about the contributions necessary to reduce long-term poverty in the region and make people better equipped to meet future challenges.
• It happened at Christmas – a time of year when people tend to think more about others. (On a more cynical note, I would add that it was also a slow news time, when there was plenty of air time and print space to be filled.)

While the generosity brought about by the tsunami is commendable, we need to remember this: Money spent on one crisis usually means less money on another. Governments have limited aid budgets. The generosity of the general public is finite over a given period of time. I think we might see that now, when it may be difficult to come up with similar amounts for the earthquake victims. And as for the media, if travel budgets are not replenished after such an extraordinary event, it will mean that other crises go uncovered.

If governments then cut down on other aid spending, the public feels that it has done its good deed for the year, and reporters have to stay home for lack of funds. The combined effect of this is that we are making poor people in other parts of the world pay for the help to the tsunami victims. They could have been supported, their plight highlighted, but no – they’ve got to wait for a new year, a new budget cycle. This did not happen here– in Norway and some other countries - but it did in a number of other donor countries.

Next Christmas, the media will again descend on the tsunami region to tell the “one year after” stories. There are many questions that should have been asked during this past year. Did we get the story right? Did we do what we said we would do? How have local governments dealt with the situation? What are the effects on the conflicts in the region? Has the aid money been well spent?

Important questions all of them. But we must not forget the rest of the world. How did this disaster affect other poor countries? Did governments, NGOs and the media manage to keep other poor people from becoming unintended tsunami victims as well? Did everybody pay equal attention to the millions caught in “silent tsunamis” like hunger and preventable diseases? The answer, I’m afraid, is no – especially when it comes to the media.

The region

Let us look for a moment at the situation in the tsunami region and some of the stories I found to be missing from the coverage.

Although I do not mean in any way to minimise the great losses suffered by many Western tourists, I think it is important to keep things in proportion. I am not comparing or contrasting individual suffering. The pain of a parent who has lost a child is unbearable regardless of who and where they are. I am merely looking at the scale of death and destruction, which was so much greater for the people of Aceh, the Sri Lankans, the Indians and the Thai. Yet, their voices were not the dominant ones in our media. We most often heard about them through tourist encounters – and we heard considerably more about Thailand than about other areas where the damage was greater. Part of the reason was that Thailand was easier to get to than areas such as the most heavily damaged parts of Indonesia – but part of it must have been that so many Norwegians knew the beaches where the wave had struck. It was the sense that “I could have been there” that made Thailand the most compelling story – even though the worst destruction had taken place elsewhere.

The tsunami was an enormous challenge for the governments of the affected countries. Two of the areas, Aceh and Sri Lanka, had to address additional complications due to long-standing conflicts. Initial hopes that the tsunami would unite people and bring a halt to the fighting were only partly fulfilled. Political, ethnic and cultural differences within each country have added other complications. Unfortunately, so has the international community.

International involvement has been enormous. Aid has poured in, a huge number of NGOs have set up shop, governments and the general public have opened their wallets – assuming that their money would be put to the best possible use. Over the past nine months, we have seen that this has not always been so.

For the governments of these countries, the international aid has been a mixed blessing. With heavy aid flows come competing interests, enterprising NGOs in search of funding, ideas good and bad – and a huge need for coordination and control. Not easy for anyone– particularly not for the relatively weak local and national government apparatus found in many of the affected areas.

It is a sad fact that the tsunami aftermath has set another record – what I would call the greatest “donor circus” ever. NGOs and governments have competed for influence, and in the rush to secure a piece of the action, many have ignored the lessons we have learned from previous disasters.

We know that the end result is less than optimal if actors in the field do not coordinate and harmonise their efforts. When everyone does a little bit of everything, in their own way, with their own people, following their own ideas, we know that the overall aid effort will suffer. We waste precious resources.

When outside forces descend and decide, the end result is not as good as when local knowledge and local power lead the way. We have seen this again and again, in every part of the developing world. The aid community knows this – but it does not always practise what it preaches.

This story has been mostly absent from the Norwegian media. Why is this? Because the media has turned its attention elsewhere? Because journalists lack knowledge of development issues? Because it does not fit the image of aid being an act of pure kindness? I don’t know. You tell me. All I know is that we need this story to be told, if we are ever to reach our goal of using humanitarian and long-term aid in the most efficient way possible.

I would also like to make a plea for more in-depth coverage of the conflict areas in Indonesia and Sri Lanka.

In Sri Lanka, the tsunami did not do much to reconcile the fighting parties. On the contrary, international aid was hampered by local distrust and disagreement. Cooperation problems have led to a situation where most of the international assistance has gone to the more peaceful, southern part of the country. Instead of unity in the face of a common challenge, we have seen the differences between the various groups hit by the tsunami increase and deepen.

In Indonesia, the picture is more mixed. In Aceh province, NGOs and other actors in the field have seen their work suffer because of internal disagreement, bureaucracy and continued fighting. In the country as a whole, however, the tsunami has brought about a more conciliatory attitude between the central government and the separatist forces. Indeed, a peace agreement has been signed.

This is also a big part of the story. Because the tsunami did not happen in a vacuum. It happened in a region beset with difficulties on an ordinary day. Conflict, long-term poverty, local and international cooperation – all of this must be part of a well-balanced media meal for audiences in the West. Spontaneous generosity is good – but long-term knowledge and support are even better.

The Norwegian government and NGOs

NGOs played a key role in tsunami relief operations. The Norwegian government contributed a total of NOK 1.1 billion, money that did not come out of existing aid budgets. The money was put to good use by NGOs – NGOs that were screened by the government for experience, efficiency, ability to work with local authorities, ability to fight corruption and more.

Most of the official Norwegian aid money was channelled through NGOs and the United Nations, and the Norwegian NGOs were swift and flexible in their approach. Their work was impressive, and the cooperation with the Norwegian authorities excellent. Yet, this was an aspect of the tsunami response that went largely unreported. At a time when few kind words reached the staff in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the positive feedback from the NGO community was a welcome respite. The Norwegian organisations were nearly unanimous in their verdict: The government had acted as quickly and as decisively as the situation warranted, creating the basis needed for excellent cooperation, and securing swift funding for relief operations in the region.

I know for a fact that many NGO representatives talked to the media about this. It would have been nice for those of us who felt they did a pretty good job if this piece of information had stemmed the avalanche of bad press that hit the authorities. But this story never made it to the public. Why? Didn’t it fit with the rest of the news? Would it have made the picture more complicated? Of course it would – but then world events and our responses are rarely simple and straightforward. And the public need to know this.

You may say, well, it is the media’s role to be critical, to shine a light on aspects that have been ignored, neglected, botched.

In that case, here is my follow-up question. Why haven’t we heard more about the aspects of NGO work that have not been as successful as we would have hoped? We saw that some NGOs arrived on the scene without the experience and knowledge necessary to do a good job. They did not receive funding from us – but they got money from others. While I believe our money went to organisations that had proven their ability to succeed in disaster relief operations, we see that other NGOs from other countries complicated the efforts because they did not have the background or manpower that was needed.

There are too many NGOs involved, and too little coordination. Duplication of effort, lack of streamlining with local government, attitudes of superiority, ignoring local priorities or advice – all of this is happening on a scale we have never seen before. Where is that story? Yes, it is important to cover the continuing grief back in the home country, but haven’t the media gone too far – covering every aspect of tourists’ traumas, yet ignoring some of the most important issues deciding the fate of millions in the disaster region? I think so – but you might disagree.

Priorities - lessons learned

We all know that media coffers are not bottomless. We also know that competition for the public’s attention is fierce. We know that audiences do not want all broccoli in their media diet – they want chocolate as well.

But the trend over the past few years has been frightening, especially when it comes to the “broccoli” of in-depth foreign news. We know the facts – the number of foreign bureaus has been cut, travel budgets are limited, and the number of journalists with sound regional, cultural and linguistic knowledge is dwindling. In their place come “parachute journalists”, reporters who travel from crisis spot to crisis spot, usually arriving with little more than a superficial knowledge of the area. Their strength is to convey a sense of shock, horror and outrage – the feelings of the moment, as seen through our outside eyes. When the TV lights dim, the story’s over, they head home, the world moves on to the next story.

My question is: Do we need so many of the stories of these reporters? And do they all need to be in the same place at the same time? With a public that is better educated than ever, and a world that influences us in a myriad of ways, wouldn’t it be better to expand rather than limit coverage of foreign news?

I believe we need foreign news that can give an accurate and informative picture of world events, and show us how events and processes are connected. Disasters, poverty, environmental damage, conflicts – on topics like these we need more than quick snapshots of the situation. We need well-informed reporting by well-informed people, over a sustained period of time. And if it is too expensive to do this by sending Norwegian journalists or German ones for that matter - well, every country in the world has knowledgeable writers who could complement our own views. Use some of them.

And we need coverage that is in proportion to the actual event itself, coverage that includes other major events in the world, even when something as momentous as a tsunami strikes. Let me give you a concrete example of what I am talking about.

Two weeks after the tsunami struck, the Sudanese government and the SPLA were to sign the peace agreement that brought a civil war of three decades to an end. This was a war that had affected millions, in Africa’s largest country. Here, Norway played a key role. I was there, as were a large number of other government ministers and officials – and journalists. Where was the Norwegian press? Not present. Even the regular NRK Africa correspondent had been dispatched to Thailand - two weeks after the Tsunami hit.

Your question today was whether media and government are friends or foes. More often than not, I think we are friends – especially in crisis situations. We are working towards the same goal – to make sure the public understands the situation, to make sure that help reaches those in need, to make sure everybody does their job and does it well. Some of our priorities will be similar – others will diverge.

Sometimes it is your job to be critical of people like me. That’s fine - and I may add, this is a job you perform superbly. Today I have taken the liberty of returning the favour, since I think we all have something to gain from a closer look at an event as momentous as the tsunami. I look forward to your comments and to a frank exchange of views.

Thank you.