Twitter
Facebook
Email Lists
DonateAn increase in press freedom violations last year created a surge of need among journalists, driving a record number of assistance cases for CPJ's Journalist Assistance Program in 2012. More than three-quarters of the 195 journalists who received support during the year came from East Africa and the Middle East and North Africa, reflecting the challenges--including threats of violence and imprisonment--of working in these repressive regions. Here are some of the highlights of our work over the last year:
Committee to Protect Journalists
CPJ Blog
Press Freedom News and Views
Journalist Assistance
(CNN)
The imprisonment of journalists hit a record high in 2012, driven by the growing use of anti-terrorism charges to silence critical voices. This video, a centerpiece of CPJ's new Free the Press campaign, details the plight of imprisoned journalists worldwide and describes how international advocacy can make a difference in winning the freedom of jailed reporters, editors, photojournalists, and bloggers. (4:40)
Read our special report "Number of jailed journalists sets global record" and view our database of journalists in prison.
In 2010, following midsummer negotiations between the Catholic Church and the government of President Raúl Castro, Cuban authorities began releasing imprisoned journalists, sending them into forced exile with their families. In April 2011, the last of more than 20 journalists arrived in Spain. They had been granted liberty and respite, and were promised support from Spanish authorities while they settled into the new country. But almost two years after the first crop of journalists arrived in Spain, the four who remain in the country are living under extremely difficult conditions, struggling even to feed themselves.
Desperate realities call for hope. It is not just a game of words, because you don't play with hunger and the future (my own and my family's). It is about going deeper into another version of circumstances. And seeing the rainbow where others see a gloomy sun and a stubborn and relentless rain.
I am writing this declaration of optimism now that the Spanish government has withdrawn the financial aid that it had provided us, when in the summer of 2010, directly from the Cuban jails, we arrived as former prisoners of conscience along with others there just by coincidence, or not.
Kassahun Yilma left Ethiopia quickly in December 2009. He didn't have time to save money for the journey, choose a place to go, arrange housing or a job. He left his wife, his mother, his house and all his friends behind. Yilma didn't know what lay ahead. He only knew that if he stayed, he risked becoming a victim of a government-waged campaign against Addis Neger, the newspaper where he worked as a reporter. "I ran away just to save my life," says Yilma, "because I was in fear for it."
Three years ago Sunday, an unidentified assailant gunned down veteran crime reporter José Armando Rodríguez Carreón in the driveway of his home as his 8-year-old daughter watched. Amid a climate of violence and impunity in Mexico--where 10 journalists have been slain since 2008 and no killers convicted in any case--it seems unlikely that anyone will face prosecution for Rodriguez's murder. Two investigators working on the journalist's slaying were also shot to death.
Mikhail Beketov can walk now--using an artificial leg and propping himself on crutches. He's moving around his house in the Moscow suburb of Khimki. It was here, in his front yard, where the newspaper editor was attacked two years and seven months ago. It was in this yard where assailants left him for dead. The fact that Beketov can stand on his own again is testament to the sheer strength of the man, whom friends describe as a born fighter. He could be obstinate, they say, and that's why he would never turn away from what he believes in.
Mikhail
Beketov is lucky to be alive, although I'm sure there are days when he
doesn't think so. On November 13, 2008, the environmental reporter who
campaigned against a highway that would have destroyed a forest in Khimki, a
town outside
For the better part of the last 20 years, Tedros Menghistu has been a refugee, forced to flee his Red Sea homeland of Eritrea not once, but twice—first as a young man displaced by war in the early 1990s, and then as a professional journalist escaping political censorship and military conscription a decade later. Menghistu is also one of a handful of enterprising former professional journalists uprooted from 
I arrived in New York in April 2003. It was cold.The streets of Brooklyn seemed too wide to me and the buildings huge. The number 3 train would pass over and over again like a luminous monster. From the window of my apartment, I would watch this train go by. I would also watch people walk without speaking to one another. My days were monotonous and nightmares invaded my nights. I recalled vividly how in Haiti my family and I were threatened with death several times, culminating in an evening when unidentified gunmen targeted my house. In the days after that, they assaulted and attacked other journalists working for the same media outlet as me. Such heinous acts haunted my dreams.
I went into exile.
Subscribe
