‘Truth’ and ‘Politics’ -
the Mass Media in Independent Ukraine 1991 - 2001

Acknowledgements

First and foremost my gratitude must go to my tutor, Dina Iordanova, for her excellent supervision and infinite patience. I would also like to thank my father, Hartmut Wächter, for his comments and valuable support. Further thanks are in order to Valerii Ivanov, Brigitte Schulze and Viktoria Davydova, all in Kyiv, as well as to some of the members of the FSUmedia e-mailing list, all of whom furnished me with information and let me ‘pick their brains’. My sincerest gratitude goes to Debra Warner for her invaluable child-care services. Finally, I want to thank my husband, Richard Williamson, for his patience and support.

A note on language and transliteration

Throughout this paper I have used the modified Library of Congress system of transliteration (e.g. http://www.history.uiuc.edu/steinb/translit/translit.htm). This means that Ukrainian and Russian place names and words are transliterated literally, not phonetically. So, for instance, the capital of Ukraine is ‘Kyiv’ not ‘Kiev’. The only exception to this rule is for places that have common names in English, such as ‘Moscow’ or ‘Crimea’. Also, all Ukrainian names and places appear in Ukrainian, which in some cases might be slightly less familiar than the Russian. For example, the infamous nuclear power plant is at ‘Chornobyl’ not ‘Chernobyl’, the Western Ukrainian town of ‘L’viv’ is called ‘Lvov’ in Russian, and many names are differnt, as well. The Russian male first name ‘Nikolai’, for instance, is ‘Mykola’ in Ukrainian, ‘Georgii’ is ‘Heorhyi’ and ‘Vladimir’ - ‘Volodymyr’.

All translations are marked ‘tr’ in the reference and are mine.

Finally, a word on geography: the terms ‘Eastern Europe’, ‘Central and Eastern Europe’, ‘former Soviet bloc’, as well as ‘post-communist’, ‘former socialist’ countries, etc. are all emotionally and ideologically charged to some extent. Much could be said on why one or the other expression should be chosen or avoided. However, such a discussion would not significantly contribute to the present discussion and all these terms are used more or less interchangeably throughout.

Contents

1. Setting the Scene

Unfortunately, such cases are the norm rather than the exception in Ukraine, a country which is struggling to overcome its Soviet past and has ostensibly embraced democracy as a goal for which to strive.

Introduction

This study aims to bring together information on the development of the mass media in independent Ukraine. It is a generally historical account and analysis of this development and will address issues such as the relationship between the state and the mass media, the nature of the contemporary Ukrainian system of mass media, as well as its role in the process of transformation.

The monumental transformation of the face of the European continent in the years 1989-1991 has sparked marked interest in the media systems of the newly democratic states in Eastern Europe. So far, however, most attention has been concentrated on Central Europe and Russia, to the detriment of countries such as Ukraine. It is particularly unproductive to homogenize the post-sovietized countries (Downing, 1996: 15) and each of the new countries that emerged after 1989-1991 deserves a detailed account of its genesis, which must necessarily include its mass media.

John Downing argues that it is nonsensical to examine mass media in a vacuum or, vice versa, to investigate political, economic or historical processes without also taking into account mass media (Downing, 1996: xiii ff.). Instead, the researcher is well advised to look at society in all its facets. However, this is not an all encompassing account of Ukrainian society in the years 1991 - 2001, nor is it a detailed examination of all things mediated and communicative in Ukraine during that period. It is a first attempt to present some of the trends with a mass media dimension which took place in Ukraine in the chosen period. The emphasis is on mass media, by which I mean, for the present purposes, the traditional media forms of broadcasting and the press, and to a lesser extent the Internet. Little or no mention will be made of magazines, book publishing, cinema or popular music, let alone everyday communication such as meetings, graffiti, or fashion. While all of these doubtlessly offer much interesting material, the scope of this paper is not sufficient and such study shall be left for future work.

The study of any media system only becomes meaningful when placed in its historical, social and theoretical context. I begin by giving a brief overview of the major political and economic events in Ukraine in the period under review and leading up to it. The next section looks at the situation from which the current system emerged, by examining the mass media in the Soviet Union and the legacy which Ukraine inherited upon gaining independence. After a brief examination of existing research on Ukraine and on media in transition, chapter two lays out the theoretical considerations that underpin the present work. The study of media in transition has led several scholars to question the validity of accepted media theory and call for a reevaluation of existing frameworks. While the present work is not suited to propose any new major theory, it does form part of this reevaluation.

My choice to focus on the political economy of Ukrainian mass media is as much inspired by the availability of material, as by personal preference. The chapter explores the chosen framework and its implications for methodology and then concludes with a discussion of the concept of ‘transition’, what it means for a country’s media system and how this might apply to contemporary Ukraine. Under the general heading of ‘media and democracy’ the next chapter examines the concrete interrelationship between state, economy and media. ‘Ownership and control’ is one of the basic focuses of a political economy approach. This section examines the rise of commercial print and broadcast media, investment, and the emergence of the ‘oligarchs’ who have come to dominate the media market. I have taken ‘media policy’, the title of the next section, to mean the institutional frameworks, such as legislation and regulatory bodies, which outwardly shape the media system. This section also includes a discussion of the influence of Russian media on the Ukrainian market, which causes great concern among legislators. The conclusion attempts to answer some of the questions about the nature of the Ukrainian system of mass media and speculates about possible future developments.

While being generally historical in methodology, this paper nonetheless includes events as recent as March 2001. The situation is liable to radical change at any time, as developments at the time of writing show only too clearly. While the political crisis following the murder of Heorhyi Gongadze shows no sign of being resolved, the country is yet again in turmoil, this time over a proposed no-confidence vote on Prime Minister Iushchenko.¹ The story continues.

Developments in Ukraine 1991 - 2001

Having spent most of its history under foreign rule of one form or another, Ukraine was an unlikely candidate for independence. Nevertheless, when the GKChP coup in August 1991 failed, the Ukrainian leadership, backed by former dissidents, declared independence on 24 August 1991. This was followed by a popular referendum on 1 December in which the majority of the population backed the move.

Elections to the newly created office of President were held simultaneously with the referendum. Democratic and reform-minded groups and parties were unable to agree on a single candidate, so the former Communist Parliamentary Speaker Leonid Kravchuk won a comfortable majority of votes (62%). With political parties in their infancy, Parliament (the Verkhovna Rada) was stalemated, unable to reach consensus on issues such as economic reform and democratization. This effectively increased the power of the President, and of the so-called partiia vlady - the party of power: an amalgamation of old-style nomenklatura and new capital, underpinned by a vast bureaucracy. Privatization and economic reform were not tackled effectively and in 1993 inflation reached an astronomical 10 225% average (Dyczok, 2000: 72).

Unable to deal with the situation, Kravchuk was forced to call early elections to Parliament (March 1994) and the post of President (June/July 1994). Surprisingly to many, former Prime Minister Leonid Kuchma emerged as the winner of the latter, having campaigned on a platform of promoting closer links with Russia (he spoke only Russian), but also on being tough on crime and corruption. Kuchma had been the head of a large aerospace concern, Pivdenmash, in Dnipropetrovsk, and represented the strong military-industrial interests in the East. Unlike Kravchuk, he had not been involved directly in politics prior to independence. Although the result of Ukraine’s first electoral process that could be considered democratic, “the contest between Kravchuk and Kuchma still represented an intra-clan feud within the party of power and not a contest between two political visions.” (Prizel, 1997: 355) With the Verkhovna Rada still dominated by the left-wing ‘old’ Communists and ‘new’ Socialists, the antagonism between President and Parliament became one of the defining features of Ukrainian political life for the years to come.

Under Kuchma, the economic situation began to show slow improvement. With the help of foreign aid, inflation was finally brought under control and in September 1996 a new currency, the Hryvnia, was introduced. Kuchma’s first term also saw the adoption of a Constitution on 28 June 1996.

With elections to Parliament taking place in March 1998 and presidential elections in October of the following year, 1997 - 1999 were years of almost continuous political campaigning and saw an unprecedented crack-down on the mass media (Ott, 1999: 5). The Communist Party remained the strongest in the new Rada, but it did not command the same large majority as before. Nevertheless, Parliament remained internally divided and continued its antagonistic standoff with the President’s office. With both pro-reform and moderate leftist parties unable to furnish the electorate with consensus candidates in the presidential elections, Kuchma comfortably beat his main challenger, Communist Petro Symonenko, in the November run-off.

The 18 months since Kuchma’s reelection have witnessed quite a number of opposing tendencies in Ukraine. On the one hand the appointment of former National Bank Chief Viktor Iushchenko as Prime Minister in December 1999 was seen by many Western observers as a very promising step towards Ukraine’s economic revival. And, indeed, 2000 saw the best economic performance in 20 - 25 years (Varfolomeyev, 2000), with GDP and foreign investment up and a positive trade balance. Also, a massive ‘migration’ of parliamentarians from leftist factions to a pro-presidential platform meant that for the first time since independence the Communist Party did not command the majority in the Verkhovna Rada.

The situation in the mass media, on the other hand, has worsened considerably. The so-called oligarchs, alarmed at Iushchenko’s reformist cabinet and policies, launched a massive smear campaign in the Ukrainian media, which they largely control. Although there were several casualties of this campaign, notably Deputy Energy Minister Iuliia Tymoshenko, Iushchenko himself has so far survived ². Most alarmingly, however, the disappearance of outspoken journalist Heorhyi Gongadze and the subsequent unfolding of the so-called ‘tape scandal’ at the end of 2000 and into 2001 have drawn international interest and widespread condemnation upon Ukraine (CPJ, 2000).

Since becoming independent, Ukraine has had to overcome vast difficulties: collapse of the economy and rampant inflation in the first few years of independence, threats to its geographic integrity, and internal disunity. The building blocks of a modern state had to be established in the form of a government, administration, ministries, foreign representations, armed forces and, of course, media system (Motyl, 1998: 8/9). A constitution was needed, and, not least important, Ukraine as an independent nation needed to be created in the minds of its citizens and the world as a whole. Its history of foreign domination has meant that, unlike in many other Eastern European countries, there were no democratic traditions (or elites) to fall back on. Also, Ukrainians seem dogged by a constant desire to prove their right to exist and not to be considered ‘Little Russians’.

The Soviet Legacy

The mass media and especially broadcasting were seen by the Soviet leadership as an important tool in reaching and ‘socializing’ the population (Mickiewicz, 1988: 26). As the ‘mobilizer of the masses’, mass media had an important role to fulfil and little attention was paid to audience tastes and preferences. The belief that mass media were able to directly influence what and how people think (still shared by many political leaders around the world) led the Soviet leadership to try and control the media as far as possible. This meant a centralized infrastructure, overt and covert censorship (for instance self-censorship, cf. Downing, 1995: 194, Splichal, 1994: 66ff.), licensing domestic journalists and rigid accreditation procedures for foreign correspondents, as well as controlling media influx from abroad by, for instance, jamming foreign radio and television and banning the import of all printed material.

All broadcasting was subordinate to the State Committee of Radio and Television Broadcasting (Gosteleradio) under the Soviet Council of Ministers in Moscow. There were no separate ‘channels’ but different editorial groups that produced material for each of the 4 national programs. Regional (‘republican’) and local tv-centers were simply considered ‘branch offices’ of the central media structure, not allowed to make own decisions and also not afforded the amount of training or technical improvement as the flagship Moscow-based mass media (Medjany, 1994: 99).

The centralized nature of broadcasting also meant that there was a well developed infrastructure in place which included satellite television and many regional retransmitters, in order to reach even the furthest corners of the empire. The ideological nature of the mass media and especially television encouraged the Soviet leadership to develop this infrastructure and to include massive production of television sets in their Five-Year plans. One observer estimated that there were 77 million television sets in the Soviet Union in 1982 (McNair, 1992: 303). The first satellite broadcasts occurred in 1967. By the early 1980s television had become the main source of information for Soviet citizens and the nightly newscast Vremia (Time) was watched by an average 150 million people, over 80% of the adult population. (Mickiewicz, 1988: 8)

The printed media were slightly less rigidly controlled. Nevertheless, centrally produced papers, such as the CPSU’s Pravda, which was printed via satellite fax simultaneously across the Soviet Union’s 11 time zones, were distributed across the empire. In addition there were many local publications, as well as smaller circulation periodicals and specialist journals. By 1989, 8000 daily newspapers produced about 170 million copies a year, and there were another nearly 8000 weeklies (Downing,1995: 196). Although these local and smaller publications were possibly not as closely scrutinized as the national papers, they, too, only existed at the whim and behest of the Communist Party and the central power structure, which controlled paper, newsprint and distribution.

This firm strangle-hold on the mass media began to erode in the 1980s and was officially abandoned under Mikhail Gorbachev, at least on paper. One of the focuses of Gorbachev’s policies of glasnost and perestroika in the mid- to late 1980s was information and clearly concerned the mass media. “In the new context it [glasnost] denoted the drive to voice endemic problems and embarrassing issues out in the open, instead of concealing them or cloaking them in officialese.” (Downing, 1995: 202) In July 1990 a Media Law was passed which guaranteed “freedom of expression in journalism and the creative arts, broad rights of access to information and the means of its dissemination, and specified the obligations of authorities in respect of these rights.” (McNair, 1992: 300) The law also outlined the rights and responsibilities of media workers, removed censorship, and extended rights of ethnic minorities for media in their own languages.

There can be no doubt that Gorbachev’s policies played an important part in changing the face of the media across the Soviet Union, and indeed more than that. Nevertheless, one must not overestimate the impact of these policies on the lives of ordinary Soviet citizens in the 1980s, especially outside the urban centers. Local ‘mini-Stalins’, media professionals with their ‘inbred’ self-censorship, as well as the public as a whole, who were unaccustomed to ‘free speech ’, even in limited form - all this ensured that the central attempts at reforming the empire would be very slow to take hold in practice. In Ukraine, for instance, direct personal intervention by Gorbachev was needed before the opposition movement Rukh was able to publish its draft program in Literaturna Ukraina, the Ukrainian Writers’ Union official organ (Prizel, 1997: 337).

Nevertheless, the Media Law significantly changed the media landscape of the Soviet Union. In conjunction with a relaxation of the ban on private enterprise, it allowed for independent media outlets (newspapers, television and radio stations) and removed the media from under the supervision of the Communist Party, at least on paper. What followed was a veritable explosion of independent publications throughout the Soviet Union, many of which, however, soon realized that more was needed than enthusiasm to run a paper and soon collapsed again for lack of funds or readership (Pryliuk, 1993: 284).

Many of these new publications focused on topics which had not been publicly discussed or available in the Soviet Union, such as pornography and sensationalism. This came as a disappointment to many in the democratic camp, as there had been high hopes for a pluralist, democratic media which would serve, inform and support the newly emerging democratic public and become part of civil society. There had been hopes that the media would actively help in the transformation of society. Instead, it seemed that the mass media were being subject to the worst excesses of the market. Similarly, the quality of television deteriorated after 1991. Lacking the funds and in many cases the technical and professional skills, the vast majority of new private and cable channels provided a diet of imported (often pirated), badly dubbed ‘popular entertainment’ of the lowest order. In a sample survey carried out in Russia in 2000, 60% of respondents thought tv had become ‘vulgar’ since the collapse of the Soviet Union, 26% thought it had become more interesting. Soviet television was seen as a ‘golden age’ by 56% (Rozanova, 2000: 220/21).

The picture in Ukraine very much followed that of the rest of the Soviet Union. Ukrainian ‘republican’ television (UT) was established in 1972, and there were also local broadcasts in the larger cities. Needless to say, all television was controlled by the Communist Party apparat. The well developed broadcasting infrastructure meant that when the Soviet Union was dissolved, there was indeed a broadcasting system in place which could now be used by the newly established state broadcasting company DRTKU (State Radio and Television Company of Ukraine). However, this infrastructure was still tied in to the old ‘All-Union’ infrastructure and Ukraine continued to receive broadcasts directly from Moscow, a practise which continued into the mid 1990s. The inherited centralized infrastructure also meant that Kyiv remains to this date the only possible location from which to broadcast on a nation-wide scale. Broadcasters based in other regions are necessarily local broadcasters unless they adopt satellite technology, or until a new technical infrastructure is introduced.

Upon gaining independence, the Ukrainian mass media were able to break free from Moscow’s direct control, but were also immediately faced with a host of problems. The most serious and urgent of these were the lack of a legal structure, questions of financing, a substandard technical basis, and low professional standards of mass media employees. Among the laws that were listed as vital and urgent by the Ukrainian Parliament as early as 1991 were 11 dealing with the mass media, including the law “On Printed Mass Media (Press)”, and “On Television and Radio Broadcasting” (Medjany, 1994: 100). However, it would take several years until even the most basic of these were passed.

2. Defining the Field - Theoretical Considerations and Literature Review

Before examining some of the key issues and events in the Ukrainian mass media over the past ten years, it is important to clarify the theoretical framework in which they are presented and the method according to which they were selected. This, it appears, is not a straightforward task, as the study of the media in societies in transition in recent years has lead to the call for a thorough review and reevaluation of media theory as a whole.

Literature Review

Since Ukraine gained its independence in 1991 a number of books on various aspects of the new state have appeared. Mention should be made here of the work by Birch (2000), Dyczok (2000), Kuzio (1997, 1998), Magosci (1996), Motyl (1993), Prizel (1997), and Wolchik and Zviglyanich (2000). Of these only Dyczok, Motyl and Prizel make any mention at all of the mass media, and when they do it is only as one aspect of politics or culture, rather than as a central issue of the transformation process. The others all suffer from what Downing has called “the bemusing capacity of some political science approaches to handle these transitions without significant reference to key communication processes.” (Downing, 1996: xiii). Particularly ‘bemusing’ is Birch’s detailed analysis of the Ukrainian electorate and voting behavior which she manages to carry out without a single reference to the media or to communication.

Although there is no comprehensive account of the mass media in Ukraine since independence - and it is doubtful if any account could ever be comprehensive - and although most larger works on contemporary Ukraine tend to ignore or neglect mention of communication issues, some work has been carried out on this subject. Firstly there are articles on Ukrainian media included in collections on media development in Eastern Europe. Medjany (1994) offers an account of the the mass media in Ukraine’s first years of independence, including a brief survey of the Soviet media, information on television, radio, printed press, but also news agencies, cinema and video production, as well as limited information on media content. Pryliuk (1993) examines the role of the Ukrainian mass media in the transformation processes and in the formation of a national identity. The short article by Price (1998) also focuses on the forging of a national imagery for Ukraine. Another author who has written on contemporary Ukraine, Alexander Ott, recognizes the mass media as an important component in the process of democratization, examining the role of the mass media in the electoral process (Ott, 1999).

Chrystyna Lapychak writing for OMRI’s Transition, as well as Andrei Richter for the Post-Soviet Media Law and Policy Newsletter have contributed to an understanding of Ukrainian media, respectively on issues of press freedom (and its abuses) and media law and regulation (see bibliography). These two publications also contain much basic factual information, as well as some analysis, as do publications such as the European Institute of the Media’s Ukrainian Media Bulletin, RFE/RL Research Reports, The Ukrainian Weekly, and Ukraine’s English-language newspaper the Kyiv Post. Information and analysis is also available in reports from international organizations and NGOs, such as the OSCE Representative on Freedom of the Media, the Committee to Protect Journalists (http://www.cpj.org), and the Kyiv-based, US-sponsored IREX ProMedia (http://www.ipc.kiev.ua).

Furthermore, we must not neglect the work carried out and published in Ukraine itself. This, admittedly, is both limited and difficult to gain access to. Most important to mention here is probably the work of Valerii Ivanov, mainly on legislation (Ivanov, 1999, 2000a, 2000b). Also publications such as the review of media legislation edited by Onufriichuk (1998), the recent study of Ukrainian media in the regions by the Tsentr “Suspil’stvo” Fund (2000), the Center for Media Initiatives’ Handbook on Television and Radio (1997), and Pavliukh and Krok’s survey of media outlets (1993) help in completing the larger picture. Finally, there are Ukrainian Internet resources, such as Parliament’s site (http://www.rada.kiev.ua), and on-line publications, such as Ukrains’ka Pravda (http://www.pravda.com.ua) and Part.org.ua (http://www.part.org.ua).

These works on Ukrainian media form part of a much larger body of work which examines the mediatic aspects of the transition processes in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union as a whole. Firstly there are several authors, writing before or just after the collapse of the Soviet Union, whose main interest lies in the media structure and policy of the Soviet Union itself, as well as in the collapse of the system (Mickiewicz 1988, McNair 1989, Androunas 1993). Secondly, there are a number of studies on individual countries, some more historical, others contributing to a better overall understanding of the processes in general. These include the work by Goban-Klas (1997), Kettle (1997), the later work by McNair (1992, 2000), as well as a few collections which include comparative analyses (O’Neil 1997, Hallenberger and Krzeminski 1994, Manaev and Pryliuk 1993).

Finally, there are the authors who examine the concept of ‘societies in transition‘ and the role of mass media in this process, and upon whose work much of the present study is based. These include John Downing’s ground-breaking study of the media in Russia, Poland and Hungary (1996), the analysis of the transition processes in the Visegrad countries by Colin Sparks (1998), Oleg Manaev’s account of the dynamics of transition and the role of the media in these processes (1993), and Slavko Splichal’s early examination of the relationship between media, state, economy and civil society in the post-communist countries (1994).

Reevaluating Media Theory

Writing in 1993, Peter Gross stated that “[t]here are no theories to help explain a society’s transition from a form of Marxism-Leninism to a non-totalitarian/authoritarian system, or mass media’s role and its effects in the process.” (Gross, 1993: 86) Since then many scholars from various disciplines have embarked upon the onerous task of developing such a theory. There seem to be two main difficulties in developing a theory to explain the transition processes in Central and Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union at the end of the 20th century. Firstly, there is no one single transition process. Each of the countries involved was affected and dealt with the issues arising differently, nor do they all have a single goal for which to aim. Secondly, in most cases the transition is still taking place. This is ‘work in progress’ and is all the more difficult to slot into neat compartments or even to describe in an all-encompassing way.

Studying media in independent Ukraine means studying media in transition. The transition processes in Eastern Europe are unprecedented and require new conceptual and theoretical frameworks. The examination of especially the mediatic dimension of the transition has lead several scholars to question the validity of some of media studies ‘ more established theories. Most influential so far in this respect is the work by Downing (1996) and Sparks (1998 and 2000).

One of the frameworks under scrutiny is Siebert, Peterson and Schramm ‘s seminal work Four Theories of the Pres which has figured prominently in media theory since its publication in 1956, and has been much maligned in recent years. It is an attempt to classify the world ‘s media systems according to four main theories. One of these was the theory of a socially responsible press (as exemplified by the ‘Anglo-American liberal model ‘), another was Soviet theory (McQuail, 1994: 127ff.). “It is an entailment of the explicit methodology of Four Theories of the Press that the actual shape of any given media system be traceable to the ‘core values ‘ of the society within which it exists, and of which it is, fundamentally, an expression.” (Sparks, 2000: 38) It needs to be added that to a large extent this was a work on normative theory, setting out general principles and not necessarily intended as a description of reality, although especially in the case of ‘Soviet theory ‘, it was often taken as just that.

Essentially, “Four Theories” was inspired by a Cold War mentality and fit the ideology and preconceptions of the time. Since the end of the Cold War it has been condemned on a variety of points. Sparks, for instance, identifies three basic assumptions that are embodied by the work of Siebert et al. and which have “entered the collective unconscious of the profession” (Sparks, 2000: 36). Firstly, there is a (still widely held) belief that political and economic power are fundamentally different, as are the effects of each on the media. Secondly, it is assumed that media systems form coherent wholes and can be traced back to a set of ‘core values’. Finally, media tend to be studied not as the primary players and sites of power struggles which they are, but as adjuncts of government (Sparks, 2000: 37). He argues that a close examination of the processes of change (in media and society as a whole) in Eastern Europe over the past two decades must lead to the conclusion that “Four Theories” should be abandoned as a theory. For a start, Siebert et al.’s description of the Soviet theory of the press did not correspond to reality - the media in Central and Eastern Europe, certainly by the 1980s, were much more open and freer than the normative work would admit (Sparks, 2000: 38 - 40). Also, it is becoming apparent that far from being a reflection of some impenetrable ‘social value system ’, mass media actually tend to be shaped much more by material determinants and the conflict and interaction of political and economic forces. (Sparks, 1998: 179 -181).

The study of transition media in Russia, Hungary and Poland lead John Downing to devise a wholesale critique of the body of media theory and research, both mainstream (e.g. agenda-setting, ‘uses-and-gratifications’, cultivation theory, gatekeeper theory) and critical (e.g. the works of Gramsci, Horkheimer and Adorno, Williams, Hall, etc.). The former are criticized for being too ‘segmented ’, that is they tend to focus on the mass media exclusively without taking into account broader issues of society and other institutions within. Also, they are largely based on research conducted in the United States and Britain and their findings do not translate well to developments outside that framework (Downing, 1996: 178 -198). The latter, on the other hand, are described as ‘totalist’ (Downing, 1996: 178) and the author asserts that while they might offer valuable pointers as to where future investigation might take us, they do little to illuminate the actual processes occurring in Eastern Europe (Downing, 1996: 199 -228). Not only are existing theories inadequate for studying media in Eastern Europe, but a closer look at the processes in that region has shown that existing theories are not particularly useful for the rest of the world, either.

It seems, then, that media theory and media research are facing several fundamental problems and challenges. Firstly, as is implied by titles such as De-Westernizing Media Studies (Curran and Park, 2000) and Internationalizing Media Theory (Downing, 1996) there needs to be an acknowledgement of the fact that much media theory is still based on analyses of US or British media. It has become clear that, far from being the norm, stable Western democracies do not necessarily afford the best insights into the way the media work on a global scale, or in different national settings. In the words of John Downing: “T]o extrapolate theoretically from such relatively unrepresentative nations as Britain and the United States is both conceptually impoverishing and a peculiarly restricted version of even Eurocentricism.” (Downing, 1996: xi )

One attempt to redress this imbalance, adopted in works such as the reader edited by Sreberny-Mohammadi et al. (1997), has been to analyze media on a more global scale and/or look at issues of globalization per se. Without doubt this is a timely and worth-while exercise. However, national differences in mass media should not be underestimated. The influence of the nation-state on media is strong in issues of regulation, audience preferences, as well as national identity (Curran and Park, 2000: 11ff.). Furthermore, basing much media theory on such a relatively unrepresentative nation as the United States has lead to the assumption that commercial media are guarantors of democracy and free speech. In other words, that the fundamental opposition is between commercial media and “state” media. However, an analysis of the close relationship between political and economic power and the media, not only in Eastern Europe, but in regions as diverse as South America and China, even Britain, shows the American pattern to be the exception rather than the rule (Sparks, 2000: 45).

If there needs to be a broadening of horizons in geographic terms, there equally needs to be such a broadening in temporal terms. Downing calls for a prioritization of “the seriously neglected topic of how media operate over time and during major societal change” (Downing, 1996: 234, italics original). In other words, more attention should be paid to historical processes, the role of the mass media in these, as well as their influence on the media. To introduce a metaphor: it is no longer useful to study a snap shot, we need to start paying attention to the entire film.

Finally, there is still not enough interaction and mutual recognition among the works of political scientists on the one hand and communications scholars on the other. Downing refers to the ‘insulation’ of which both students of media and other social scientists are guilty (Downing, 1996: 179). Political, economic and other accounts of society are less than meaningful if they ignore the communico-mediatic dimension. It is equally important that media be studied in context and not as mere government appendages.

Understandably, none of the above-mentioned authors offer a comprehensive new theory for media studies and the search for a ‘grand unified theory’ in communication studies continues. If the ‘old’ theories are discarded and new theories have yet to be developed, we must nevertheless find workable frameworks within which to study media, as empirical data by itself is not yet meaningful. In the words of James Halloran: “Without an underlying theory of society, any research program will fragment into bits and pieces that can never possibly tell us anything about the relationship of media and society[...]” (Halloran, 1995:41). On the other hand, we must not lose track of reality. Theory, too, is only meaningful if it is backed up by research and can be tested and applied to real situations (ibid.).

This potential new theoretical framework would have to fulfil the following criteria: Firstly, it would have to take into account regional variations and peculiarities and stop trying to extrapolate from relatively unrepresentative nations, such as the United States. Secondly, it would have to emphasize historical processes and change over time. And, thirdly, it would have to place media and communications in their social, political and economic contexts. Obviously the present work does not allow for the development of such a theory. What it can do, however, is contribute to the overall search for such a theory by offering an overview and analysis of the Ukrainian situation with these points in mind.

Conceptual Framework

The framework for the present study follows the tradition of political economy. Many of the issues raised above on how media theory needs to change in order to accommodate a changing global media landscape are addressed by so-called critical political economy. The key points of this school of thought can be summed up as follows: critical political economy is holistic, looking at relations in society as a whole and not only individual aspects, it is historical, it is concerned with the balance between the market (capital) and the state, and it is committed to moral philosophy, to questions of justice and equality (Golding and Murdock, 1996). The political economy tradition of media research is part of a much wider school of thought that takes its initial inspiration primarily from Marxism. There have been many variants of the political economy approach to media studies over the years, but “there is a common core in all versions [of political economy] which acknowledges the necessity of incorporating economic forces and processes into social analysis.” (Downing, 1996: 27). Early contributions to this approach focus on the mass media as industries and economic entities, and as sites of great power in society (e.g. Schiller 1995, Murdock and Golding 1995).

Within the general political economy perspective of the present work, two main ‘themes’ (rather than ‘theories’) stand out: a study of ownership and control³ and issues of media policy and regulation.

Firstly, I shall examine issues of ownership, economic power and control in the media. In its simplest form, a political economy approach studies media corporations and the business aspects of the mass media. More detailed studies would include issues of ownership, influence, control and power. As is made clear by the chosen label (‘ownership and control’), this paper shall examine both these aspects. On the one hand I will be looking at the structure of the media system after independence, for example, the establishment of new newspapers and the introduction of commercial television. On the other hand the section will include discussions of the new Ukrainian power elite and its relationship with the media.

The description and analysis of the balance between state regulation and market forces in shaping a media system are a key task for a critical political economy approach (Golding and Murdock, 1996: 21). It is therefore appropriate that the second ‘theme’ should be media policy. Policy can take the form of legislation, as well as more informal forms of regulation, such as professional standards and codes of conduct, which in turn allow insights into the general underlying principles and beliefs which inspire it. New ‘democratic’ governments in Eastern Europe were keen (or were urged) to adopt a Western media model, in which the mass media’s independence and democratic function were supposedly guaranteed by a market economy and based on “three key concepts in the liberal canon - the media as public watchdog, public representative ( ‘fourth estate’) and source of public information.”(Curran, 1996: 83). This generally includes the introduction, at least on paper, of some form of public service broadcasting, as well as the licensing of commercial media outlets and deregulation of the press.

Several authors argue that classical liberal notions of the media no longer apply in Western democracies and certainly should not be used as normative concepts in the post-sovietized states of Eastern Europe (Splichal, 1994: 79 ff.; Curran, 1996). Nevertheless, this liberal notion remains a benchmark against which we can measure not only the performance of Eastern European countries, but also the performance of the mass media in the West.

Both of these ‘themes’ relate to the more general concept of ‘media and democracy’. “[T]he very idea of society communicating freely was in the center of the democratic struggles in East Europe in the late 1980s.”(Splichal, 1994: 8) It therefore seems fitting to examine whether the basic premise of establishing a democratic society, which, in any definition, must include an independent media, has been met by countries such as Ukraine. This issue is intimately linked with both a political economy approach and questions of (de)regulation and organization of the media.

Of course, the term ‘democracy’ is not a straightforward one. For the purposes of this discussion, however, I will adopt an ‘institutional’ (to introduce a label) definition of democracy along the lines of Bruce Parrott’s (1997). He sees the existence of competitive elections, together with certain preconditions, such as a free press, as the key element of a democratic system (Parrott, 1997: 4/5). Parrott himself lists the potential pitfalls of such a minimalist definition: On the one hand it does not necessarily include a number of citizens’ rights which many would consider vital parts of a democratic system. Also, the freedom and fairness of elections can be called into question and even democratically elected governments can behave thoroughly undemocratic and even despotic. Nevertheless, “[c]ompetitive elections are arguably a precondition for the other political benefits that a democratic system may confer on its citizens, and they are a valuable yardstick for analyzing and distinguishing among postcommunist countries.” (Parrott, 1997: 4)

While there seems to be a general consensus among Western social scientists that free media form a central part of any democracy, few pay attention to the actual role of the mass media in processes of democratization (O’Neil, 1997: 3ff.). This means examining the relationship between the state and the media, for instance during election campaigns, the attitude of the ruling elites towards the media and the mechanisms of control.

Methodological Considerations

When studying the mass media of a country, there are necessarily choices to be made. This is especially true if one is starting with a more or less clean slate, as is the case with Ukraine, where the amount and scope of research is still quite limited. There are many aspects of media and communication worth studying. My decision to focus on the relationship between the media and the state in the broadest of terms is as much inspired by the availability of materials and sources, as by personal preference. This is not to suggest that other approaches, such as audience studies or examining media content, are less valid or less interesting.

This type of study, with a large descriptive and historiographic component, does not lend itself well to original research in the form of, for instance, questionnaires, focus groups or content analysis. There are necessarily limitations in studying a media system to a large extent through secondary reports. For instance, the available material already indicates a selection of some kind that does not necessarily provide a complete picture. However, this approach seems justified for two reasons: firstly, there is to date no authoritative work on the mass media in independent Ukraine available in any language. It therefore seems that the first task must be to collect the available (published) data and structure them in a meaningful theoretical concept. Secondly, the present work does not allow for a definitive study of media in Ukraine (if indeed that were possible). A full review of primary sources (interviews with editors and politicians, statistics, etc.) while desirable and something this author would have greatly appreciated, surely goes beyond the scope of the given framework. The examples taken from practice and the insights offered by practitioners and other observers of the Ukrainian media situation have been chosen mainly to illustrate general points.

Several authors have pointed out the difficulties and limitations in studying mass media in post-sovietized societies (e.g. Manaev 1993, McNair 1992, Pryliuk 1993, Splichal 1994). Not only is the study of media in Eastern Europe, and especially in Ukraine, one that has so far attracted only limited academic research, but the very nature of the societies under observation (i.e. the fact that things are still constantly changing) makes them difficult subjects of study. Furthermore, as Manaev points out "[t]he secrecy which continues to shroud the political and economic, financial, first of all ‘root system’ of mass media in a post-totalitarian society makes the results of any research on their interaction with other social institutions [...] not quite informative or even adequate.”(Manaev, 1993: p. 121)

Downing also lists a number of limitations that most existing sources on East European media have in common. Among them the dominance of television, the focus on capital cities, as well as an emphasis on news media to the detriment of entertainment and other media forms (Downing,1996: 122 -125) As this is a paper based largely on existing sources, the fact that these limitations will inevitably be replicated to a certain extent is noted. However, attempts to redress this imbalance will have to be addressed in future work.

The study of control and influence in the mass media has been the most complex, as these relationships tend to be quite elusive (McNair, 2000: 80). As mentioned above, ownership structures and spheres of influence are difficult to examine, as those in power are often intent upon keeping them secret. Nevertheless, political affiliations are often revealed by content, and informed rumors on ‘who owns what’ abound in Ukrainian media circles. The recently published Vse pro media rehioniv Ukrainy (Tsentr “Suspil’stvo”, 2000) is a valuable source in tracing these influence patterns and mechanisms.

By examining the institutional framework, I hope to uncover some of the general beliefs and fundamental assumptions that underpin media regulation. Downing quotes Price who states that “especially at times of transition, formal statements captured in the words of laws cannot be taken at face value ... the language of media statutes may have a purpose of camouflage or may be designed to placate an international community rather than serve as the operative guide to conduct.” (Downing, 1996: 125) Nevertheless, media regulation in the form of laws, draft laws, decrees, codes of conduct and even parliamentary hearings can throw up interesting angles and is an important part of the whole picture.

To sum up, then: in line with certain underlying ‘themes’ - ‘ownership and control ’, and policy and regulation - there are several general questions which this work will address. Firstly, what are the media ownership patterns and mechanisms of control and influence? Secondly, what is the regulatory framework for the mass media in Ukraine and do the words on paper have anything to do with reality? More generally, I will be asking what the relationship between the state and the media is, as well as the nature of the mass media in the transformation and democratization process in Ukraine. I am under no illusion that I will find a definite answer to these questions. However, I hope to sufficiently illuminate these issues as to be able to make some educated guesses and to contribute to a better understanding of Ukraine on the one hand and of the processes of transformation on the other.

Ukraine - Country in Transition

Ukraine, like many of its neighbors, is often referred to as a country in transition. The idea and concept of ‘transition’ in general and as applied to the processes in Eastern Europe at the end of the twentieth century is the focus of a vast body of literature from a wide array of disciplines and perspectives, from economic theory and political science to history and anthropology. Some researchers have even begun talking about ‘transitology’ (Sparks, 1998: 83). Clearly, a full review of the existing literature on this particular issue is a mammoth task for which the present format is not suited. The preoccupation of some media scholars with the transition process in Eastern Europe is reflected in the title of the Open Media Research Institute’s journal Transition, as well as the Internet magazine Transitions Online (http://www.tol.cz). McNair expresses what many social scientist must have been thinking when the Berlin Wall came down: that the former Soviet Union and its satellites are a sort of laboratory that offers a unique opportunity to study processes of societal change at work (McNair, 2000: 79).

In its most basic definition it would seem that ‘transition’ describes a process that leads from one stable situation to a different stable situation. But whereas in the case of Eastern Europe the point of departure is generally not disputed ⁴, there is much contention over the issue of where each of these countries, or the region as a whole, may or should be headed. Even if we adopt an ‘institutional’ definition of democracy (see p. 20), “it is important to maintain the distinction between transitions from communism and transitions to democracy.” (Parrott, 1997: 5). Using the term ‘transition’ to describe the period under review (1991 - 2001) underlines the constantly changing nature of the situation, as well as the dynamic of the historical process.

Reviewing some of the existing literature, Sparks identifies two prevailing interpretations of the transformation processes in Eastern Europe, each again divided into two subgroups. On the one hand there are those authors who stress the completeness of the transformation. The most prominent of these is Francis Fukuyama, by now (in)famous for his remark that 1989 represented ‘the end of history’ (Sparks, 1998: 6). Fukuyama and others argue that the collapse of the sovietized states was a total one and that what replaced it, even if not perfect, was fundamentally different in every aspect. Slightly more ‘moderate’ in tone, but still stressing the fundamentally different nature of the new states over what came before, are those authors such as Ralph Milliband to whom the main change lay in the restoration or establishment of capitalism. This is seen as a fundamental change which may, or may not in some cases, entail further social change (Sparks, 1998: 81 -84). Both these views are rejected by Sparks as“[t]he degree of continuity is much too great to support any theory of total transformation” (Sparks, 1998: 187).

On the other hand, there are those authors to whom the transition processes are more remarkable for their continuity, rather than their degree of change. They stress the similarities between the sovietized systems and the newly established states. Here again, there are varying degrees. At the far end of the spectrum is a school of thought which holds that there was no change at all. Writers such as Petras and Lomax maintain that if any transfer of power occurred in Eastern Europe, it was horizontal, rather than vertical (Sparks, 1998: 85 - 86). In other words, one authoritarian elite (‘Marxist-Leninist’) was replaced by another authoritarian elite (capitalist). In their view the level of continuity in all aspects of society, social, political and economic, is so great that it is unjustified to speak of transition at all, let alone of ‘revolutions’ (ibid.). Taking a slightly less radical view, Sparks himself argues that on the basis of the evidence he has been able to collect from the Visegrad countries, there seems to be a large degree of continuity, that certain aspects, however, have changed. He takes his lead from Alex Callinicos who insists that the Eastern European upheavals “represented a change in political regime rather than social system” (Sparks, 1998: 85).

For the mass media this would mean considerable economic continuity, as far as ownership and regulation are concerned, even if new groups that are now excluded from the ruling elite would probably push for some privatization. Significant personnel changes would be unlikely and political interference would continue (Sparks, 1998: 90/91). Both before and after the fall of communism the Eastern European mass media can be considered “large-scale, hierarchically organized, bureaucratic establishments in which there were elaborate procedures for ensuring the acquiescence to the will of the directorate.” (Sparks, 2000: 45/46) The main difference is that now there are conflicting sources of power which foster the development of at least a limited kind of pluralism.

Many of Sparks’s colleagues disagree with this view (Splichal, 1994; McNair, 2000). The Belarusian Oleg Manaev starts off in similar fashion, offering two ‘variants’ of transition societies. On the one hand he speaks of ‘reformative’ transformation, in which the ‘system-forming traits’ of society change in such a way that the result is essentially different from what came before. On the other hand he identifies ‘transformative’ transformation, in which various changes might lead to an outwardly different appearance, but the main traits of the preceding system are preserved (Manaev, 1993: 119 -120).

However, whereas Sparks speaks of different interpretations of the same process, Manaev asserts that in reality most Eastern European societies today display traits both of ‘reformative’ and ‘transformative’ transition. He also believes that even if full ‘reformative’ transition has not yet been attained, it is what is needed. Without expressly dealing with the concept of ‘transition ’, the Ukrainian researcher Valerii Ivanov adopts a similar interpretation of the situation in Ukraine (Ivanov, 1999 and 2000a).

Ukraine as a country in transition (e.g. Dyczok, 2000; Prizel, 1997) has set up an ostensibly democratic system of government with a separation of powers, competitive elections and a constitution which guarantees basic human rights. In the economic sphere, market reforms have started to take hold. All this is a departure from the sovietized system. Nevertheless, existing laws, as well as human rights, are not necessarily observed and there are still gaps in legislation. There is some doubt over the independence of the judiciary (US Department of State, 1999). Large sectors of the economy are considered ‘of strategic importance’ and not given over to privatization. In many cases there is considerable continuity of cadres (including the media). Maybe most importantly, attitudes among the ruling elite and among the population as a whole have been most immune to change. Therefore, ‘totalist’ interpretations of the transition are unjustified here. In the face of Ukraine’s difficulties in reforming the economy, the concept of economic transformation, followed (or not) by social change, seems equally inappropriate. We are left with the view advanced by Sparks of political revolution without social change. In how far this corresponds to reality and what this means for the mass media will be considered in the course of the present work.

Keeping in mind the general caveat that each of these nations needs to be looked at on its own merit and not ‘lumped together’ with the others, there are still certain traits that many Eastern European nations share, whatever the nature of the transition. Concluding this section on questions of transition, I would like to enumerate certain general features of societies in transition which can also be applied to Ukraine and whose significance will become important when we discuss the mass media in detail.

1. ‘Interpenetration’
of economics and politics One of the hallmarks of a transition society is what Sparks refers to as the ‘interpenetration’ of economics and politics (Sparks, 2000: 43). This means that politicians struggle to receive access to funding and economic elites vie for political power. In Ukraine, as in Russia, this ‘media-industrial complex’ (McNair, 2000: 85) is often referred to as the ‘oligarchs’: members of the elite ruling class (not necessarily legitimated by elections or indeed open to public scrutiny of any kind) who wield considerable power in political office, have stakes in the country’s large-scale industry (such as energy or steel), and also control one or more media outlets.

However, as has been mentioned previously, this close interaction between economic and political elites is by no means unique to societies in transition. Splichal speaks of the ‘Italianization’ of Eastern European media, referring, i.a., to that country’s integration of media and political elites, as well as the high level of media partisanship (Splichal, 1994, 143 -147). Sparks prefers a generally ‘European’ model, noting the ephemeral nature of the media systems on Eastern Europe, and the adoption of a more ‘northern’ European system of the press in the Visegrad countries (Sparks, 1998: 177 -179).

2. Nationalism
One important factor that most postsocialist countries share and that might be construed as a hallmark of a transitional society is the resurgence and emergence of nationalism (Splichal, 1994: 115 -126). Ukraine has been able to eschew the more dramatic and at times catastrophic manifestations of nationalism (such as in Yugoslavia or in the Caucasus). Most importantly, Ukraine has had to define itself as separate from Russia. Interestingly, much of the anti-Russian, nationalistic rhetoric comes from the government itself, and is not necessarily shared by large parts of the Ukrainian population, especially in the Russian-speaking East of the country. A complete lack of national sentiment, however, can be equally dangerous in “the creation and cohesion of a modern state; without it many citizens will lack an incentive to participate actively in democratic politics, as the case of Belarus demonstrates”. (Parrott, 1997: 10/11)

3. State control of mass media
Focusing more on the media aspect of transition, there are several features of the mass media in Eastern Europe that can be considered endemic to transitional societies and do not depend on the type of government in place (anticommunist or neocommunist) (Splichal, 1994: 144ff.). Firstly, alternative views are often excluded as either irrelevant or plain dangerous. Secondly many governments behave as if certain media (especially broadcasting) ‘belong’ to those in power and are free to be used and abused in order to ‘strengthen’ the state or ‘in the national interest’. Manaev and Pryliuk observe the trend that governments often present themselves as “the main guarantor” of media freedom, which, “under conditions of transitional society inevitably lead[s] to the strengthening of [their] control over [the media] and to the violation of basic human rights...” (Manaev and Pryliuk, 1993: xi).

3. Examining the Evidence - Media and Democracy

On 24 August 1991 the Supreme Soviet of the Ukrainian SSR ruled “to declare Ukraine an independent democratic state...” (Magosci, 1996: 673, italics added). Any definition of democracy must include an independent media (e.g. Sparks, 1998: 16), but “the absence of communism does not lead to democracy by default.” (O’Neil, 1997:1) Upon attaining independence, Ukraine was thus faced with a number of choices about the structure of its mass media: would media be privatized, and if so, which ones and in what way; what should be the nature of the regulatory framework and bodies overseeing the media; what guarantees, if any, were there to be to ensure the media fulfilled their democratic function. This chapter explores these issues by examining the structures of media ownership and control, as well as the regulatory framework that have so far developed in Ukraine since the declaration of independence in 1991.

It is generally accepted that a free and vibrant mass media is a vital component of democracy. However, even if these preconditions are present, it does not necessarily mean that the public is particularly empowered. Much of the discussion about media and democracy has focussed on the relationship between the state and the market, i.e. the ruling elite, and authors such as Sparks call for more attention to be paid to the relationship between the media and their audience, i.e. the population as a whole. “Democratizing the media means breaking the control of those elites over what are necessarily the main means of public speech in large-scale societies.”(Sparks, 2000: 47)

Ownership and Control

Press
The first independent newspapers and magazines began to appear in Ukraine shortly after the introduction of the Soviet Media Law in July 1990. The number of publications registered has been growing steadily ever since. While there were 1787 different titles registered in 1990 in Ukraine, this number had risen to 2450 by 1992 (Pryliuk, 1993: 284)and to 8500 by the beginning of 2000 (Ivanov, 2000a: 1). However, many of these titles appear(ed) only sporadically or not at all and over half are only distributed locally (ibid.). 673 of these are owned directly by the state or local authorities (OSCE, 2000: 3.1). The overall daily circulation of newspapers and magazines has been in steady decline from the outset (Lapychak, 1996: 61; Ivanov, 2000a: 1).This was a general trend in Central-Eastern European countries in the early 1990s: an increase in the number of titles, and a simultaneous decrease in print-run (Splichal 1994: 36ff.). Whereas in Soviet times it was usual for each family to subscribe to 3 -4 publications, in Ukraine in 1997 there was an average of one subscription to five citizens (Luk’ianenko, 1997). The cause of this fall in readership is most likely economic hardship, as well as disappointment and disillusionment at publications’ low professional and quality standards (Gourko, 1993: 58).

The print media market was transformed quite rapidly. Old established newspapers such as Pravda Ukrainy (Truth of Ukraine), the local version of the Moscow-based official CPSU party organ, and Nezavisimost (Independence) soon found new backers and political affiliations. State organs, as well as political parties founded their own publications. Of these, mention should be made of the parliamentary Holos Ukrainy (Voice of Ukraine) and the Cabinet of Ministers’ Uriadovyi Kur’er (Government Courier), as well as the Communist Party’s Komunist. The latter is very much an ‘ideological’ newspaper, read almost exclusively by members of the Ukrainian Communist Party. The majority of new publications, however, were private ventures, such as the popular Russian-language tabloid Kievskie Vedomosti (Kyiv Gazette) which was started by the private firm Dovira in 1992.

Since 1997 most media have been eligible for state support (Onufriichuk, 1997: 224 -236). Many countries practise some form of government support for the media, be it in the form of tax breaks, favorable tariffs for disseminating publications or outright subsidies (Splichal, 1994: 141). However, such support can easily be motivated not by the desire to improve or ensure pluralism of views, but, quite on the contrary, by a desire to control the media by making them financially dependent (Splichal, 1994: 42ff.).

Prior to this, government support for the mass media was regulated not by a law, but by various decrees of the President and Cabinet of Ministers and was granted, according to one commentator, “at anybody’s whim” (Luk’ianenko, 1997 -tr). In this respect, the law was an achievement, as it is aimed at supporting the (print) industry as a whole by, for instance, establishing reduced postal rates and abolishing VAT on printing and distribution (articles 4 and 5). However, although article 10 states that all media are to be treated equally under this law, media that are owned and/or run by state organs, regional or municipal governments (articles 6 - 8) are eligible for additional direct financial support. Furthermore, the law in effect turns state and municipal media journalists into civil servants with similar pay and promotion structures, pensions and other social security provisions. This means that journalists working for these media are under the direct financial and bureaucratic control of the powers that be, which increases the danger of self-censorship. At the same time, journalists working for non-state media are at a clear disadvantage, as their salaries, pensions and other benefits are not legally guaranteed to the same degree.

Nevertheless, the rapidly declining economy meant that government support for the press in the form of direct subsidies, as well as subsidized newsprint, paper and distribution, was no longer readily available. With the old source of funding dwindling and no new sources of revenue in the form of subscriptions and advertising coming in, many Ukrainian periodicals found themselves in dire financial straits. In this situation editors welcomed advances from investors and buyers, even if it meant relinquishing their editorial independence to some extent (Medjany, 1994: 101).

In contrast to other Eastern European countries (e.g. Downing, 1996: 158ff.; Kettle, 1997: 46ff.), Western foreign investors have largely avoided the Ukrainian print market. The reason for this low level of interest is most likely the overall unfavorable investment climate (Reid, 1999: 227ff.). Legally foreigners are allowed to own print media (Onufriichuk, 1998: 62) and there is no limit on foreign investment in print media. Russian investors and media groups have taken advantage of this fact and publish Ukrainian versions of Russian newspapers (in Russian) in Ukraine in order to avoid import duties and other costs (Schulze, 1999). The content of papers such as Komsomolskaia Pravda v Ukraine and Argumenty i Fakty v Ukraine is only marginally different from that in the better-known Russian versions.

Content of publications changed as well. In addition to glossy Western magazines (often imported from Russia), such as Cosmopolitan, a plethora of erotic and sensationalist ‘yellow press’ appeared, which had not been openly available in the Soviet Union. Indeed some of the most successful publications have been special-interest magazines (Tsentr “Suspil’stvo”, 2000: 12), such as the popular Ukrainian women ’s magazine Natali. However, the ‘tabloidization’ (McNair, 2000: 84) of the media market which occurred throughout the region led to disappointment among the original campaigners for democracy, human rights and, in Ukraine’s case, independence. The population as a whole suffered from what Gourko calls ‘freedom shock’ (Gourko, 1993: 53) which led to, i.a., “a kind of negation of media in general and ‘free press’ in particular.” (Gourko, 1993: 58)

Broadcasting
The broadcasting landscape of Ukraine was much slower to show any substantial change. In fact, from the point of view of ordinary Ukrainians, very little changed initially. Of the four national channels, the two that had carried ‘republican’ television prior to independence became ‘state’ television. The other two nationally-available channels were Russian - Ostankino (later ORT) and RTR - broadcast directly from Moscow. The State Television and Radio Company (DRTKU) remained almost completely unchanged - a Soviet style monopoly, still headed by Mykola Okhmakevich, who had been head of republican broadcasting since the Brezhnev era (Richter, 1993). Needless to say, program content did not improve greatly either and while Russian television had somehow become “miraculously younger and Westernized in the Gorbachev period” (Price, 1998: 82), Ukrainian programming tended to rely on ‘talking heads ’, dry round table discussions and no home-grown entertainment whatsoever (Medjany, 1994: 103/104). Not surprisingly, therefore, in 1992 Ostankino was named as a favorite channel by 79%, the first national Ukrainian channel, UT1 by 12% (Richter, 1993: table 2).

The face of Ukrainian television started to change significantly in 1995 and 1996. In September 1995 RTR broadcasts were stopped altogether to be replaced by Ukrainian programming, and the ORT signal was switched from the prominent first channel to the less widely available second. The official reason for this switch was that ORT owed Ukraine a substantial sum of money for the use of its transmitters, not to mention the fact that it generated substantial revenue from selling advertising which would also be broadcast to Ukrainian audiences and the Ukrainian channels did not receive any of this money. The switching of ORT to a different channel meant that it was no longer available in all parts of the country, which lead to public protests especially in the East and in Crimea (PSMLP, 1995). The government, however, did not bow to public pressure and in April 1996 ORT broadcasts were replaced completely by a new channel, the Russian-Ukrainian joint venture ‘Inter’ in which ORT owned 29% of the shares and which continues to broadcast Russian programs, including the evening newscast Vremia,, on Ukraine’s UT3 channel.

In addition to ‘state’ television, there are in the order of 900 privately owned and financed television and radio companies (Karpachova, 2000), a record number, not only in comparison to the West, but also to other East European countries (Richter, 1993). However, of these, only a handful broadcast regularly and many only on local channels. Although the broadcasting law permits private broadcasters to own transmission facilities (article 45) (unlike, for instance, in Russia; Richter and Krug, 1994), in practice commercial television and radio rely on state-owned facilities. This not only means that they can be denied access to frequencies (under some pretext), but also that a significant proportion of their budget goes towards paying for transmission, which leaves less money for vital technical improvements and to pay qualified journalists (Klein, 1994: 21/22). It is common practise for several companies to share the same frequency or channel.

Unlike in the print media, foreigners are not allowed to establish or own Ukrainian broadcast media, investment is limited to 30% and is controlled by the National Council (Onufriichuk, 1998: 83/84). In spite of this, and in spite of the initial lack of legal safeguards, foreign investors were more attracted to broadcasting than to the print media. All three nationally available commercial broadcasters have significant foreign investment: ‘Studio 1+1’ which is broadcast on the state-owned channel UT2 receives financial backing from the region’s “very own transnational broadcasting corporation” (Sparks, 2000: 35), Central European Media Enterprises. This Bahamas-based, US-financed company of cosmetics heir Ronald Lauder has investments in several Central European countries (Sparks, 2000: 43/44). ‘Studio 1+1’ won the right to be the only private company to broadcast on UT2 after ‘restructuring’ in 1997, which removed several analytical and potentially critical programs from the schedule, sparking accusations of censorship (Woronowycz, 1997).

The fourth national channel ICTV, which is aimed at a younger audience (Fedorishina, 1997) was set up as an American-Ukrainian joint venture, with 50% of the shares belonging to the Ukrainian state. The government sold its share in October 1998 and last year parliamentary deputy Viktor Pinchuk bought the channel outright.

Both the interest of foreign investors and of domestic politicians and financial backers alike can be explained by television’s preeminent position in the Ukrainian media market. Although they make up only 11.6 % of media outlets, broadcast media pay a “dominant role” (Ivanov, 2000a: 2 -3). The difficult economic situation means that the vast majority of the population relies on television, and to a lesser extent radio, for their main source of information (OSCE, 2000: 4.1).

The Oligarchs
The low level of foreign investment and the fact that it is nearly impossible to run a profitable media business (Ivanov, 2001: question 2), mean that most media outlets rely to some extent or other on the money - and personal protection - of some of Ukraine’s most powerful men, the so-called ‘oligarchs’.

Among some of the most powerful men in Ukrainian politics who also control large parts of the country’s mass media are the leaders of the Social Democratic Party of Ukraine (united) (SDPU(o)): leader Viktor Medvedchuk, who is also Vice-Speaker of Parliament and who is expected to run for President in 2004, honorary president of Dynamo Kyiv soccer club Hryhoryi Surkis and Oleksandr Zinchenko, the Head of the Parliamentary Committee on Freedom of Speech and Information. Between them, they control two national television channels (UT2 - Studio 1+1, and UT3 - Inter), several commercial television and radio companies, as well as a number of periodicals (Tsentr “Suspil’stvo”, 2000; RFE/RL, 1999; Gorchinskaya, 16/06/2000).

Another powerful ‘oligarch’ was former Prime Minister Pavlo Lazarenko. Forced to resign as Prime Minister in July 1997 because of corruption allegations, Lazarenko soon became President Kuchma’s main political rival and formed his own party,Hromada. In the course of 1998 two newspapers associated with Lazarenko ceased operation: Pravda Ukrainy was outright banned for alleged registration irregularities, Vseukrainskie Vedomosti was forced to close down after it lost a libel case and was fined $2.5 million (Markus, 1998). Commentators have referred to this as a “textbook case of a struggle between competing oligarchs or oligarchic associations in Ukraine.”(RFE/RL, 1999)

The influence these oligarchs have on ‘their’ media varies. In some cases an owner with clearly stated political interests (e.g. a parliamentary mandate or government position) exercises direct control over content and managerial decisions. This is the case, for instance, with the state-owned channel UT1 which is controlled by the Head of the President’s Administration Volodymyr Lytvyn, and whose news programs became Kuchma’s main campaigning tool in the election campaign 2000 (OSCE, 2000: 4.1).

At the other end of the spectrum is Kyiv mayor Oleksandr Omel’chenko who controls most of the capital’s media outlets, but who, according to reports, does not exercise a great deal of censorship on these several newspapers and one television channel. All of them, however, receive financial support from the city’s budget and it is unlikely that any of them would openly criticize Omel’chenko or his policies (Tsentr “Suspil ’stvo”, 2000: 15).

With most media outlets under the control of either the authorities or the oligarchs, some opposition-minded journalists have embraced the Internet as an alternative. When Heorhyi Gongadze launched the free Internet newspaper Ukrains’ka Pravda he explained that the switch in editorial policy on the daily Den’ (Day) had “been the last straw” (Gorchinskaya, 4/05/2000). Den’ had previously supported former Prime Minister Evhen Marchuk, one of Kuchma’s opponents in the 1999 elections, and had been known for its criticism of the incumbent, as well as for high professional standards of reporting. After the election, Marchuk accepted the post of Head of the National Security Council and the newspaper abandoned its criticism. Recent attempts by the government to monitor and control the Internet (Byrne, 2000), as well as Gongadze ’s ultimate fate (see Introduction) are indications of the fact that the Internet in Ukraine is not a guarantor of free speech. Furthermore, the question of access makes it doubtful whether the Internet will be able to contribute substantially to a democratization of the Ukrainian media market. Only about one in 300 Ukrainians currently has access to the Internet (Karpachova, 2000) and the technical prerequisites (telephone lines, computers) are only slowly improving.

If media outlets are not generating significant revenue, the owners of and investors in these media must be motivated to a large extent by something other than financial gain. “Media ownership translates economic power into political and economic power, which are the key resources in the maintenance of economic power, and so on.” (McNair, 2000: 88) The existence of media moguls who also wield considerable political influence is in itself not unusual (e.g. Curran, 1996: 92). However, the influence wielded by the oligarchs in countries such as Ukraine is intensified by the weak economy, as well as the fact that there are no real restraints on their power. Furthermore, the general mood of the population should not be underestimated. A nationally representative survey carried out in 1995 showed that many Ukrainians were not convinced of the need for an independent media (Connors et al., 1995). It would be interesting to conduct a similar survey now to see whether these attitudes have changed.

The power of the oligarchs in Ukraine has increased considerably since the forming of a pro-presidential majority in the Verkhovna Rada in 2000. If before there had been some modicum of pluralism by rival groups campaigning against each other on the pages of their respective publications, many observers now believe that it is impossible to publish material critical of either the oligarchs or President Kuchma (Byrne, 2001). Apart from the ideologically charged party organs of Communists and Socialists, there is virtually no opposition media left in Ukraine (Ivanov, 2000b: 2).

The explosion of the number of non-state media has not lead to a significant reduction in the overall power and control wielded by state organs especially over broadcasting. Where the government’s influence is shrinking, oligarchic interests are taking over. The public, as well as media employees, have little say in the organization and management of information resources. Privatization and deregulation have not lead to the establishment of a more democratic media.

Media Policy and Regulation

Legislation
Many observers and commentators of the Ukrainian mass media agree that there is little or nothing wrong with Ukrainian media legislation paper (e.g. Ivanov, 2000a; Richter and Krug, 1994). The Constitution bans censorship and guarantees the right of everybody to ‘freely collect, store, use and disseminate information in oral, written or any other form” (article 34). A number of laws deal with most aspects and forms of the media - press, broadcasting, intellectual property, publishing, cinema, advertising, etc.. Generally these these laws compare favorably to similar ones in Western countries, and include things such as the right to reply, antimonopoly provisions and private ownership.

As in many other countries, broadcasting is more heavily regulated than the print media. Both require licenses to operate, but broadcasting is additionally limited by restrictions on ownership (e.g. by foreigners) and the allocation of frequencies and airtime (Onufriichuk, 1998).

However, there are several fundamental problems with these laws and regulations. Firstly, there is a problem with some of the laws themselves: although the bulk of legislation is acceptable by Western standards, the wording of some laws is vague and unhelpful. For instance, according to the law “On Television and Radio Broadcasting” (Onufriichuk, 1998: 75 -99), the National Council is in charge of the “development and quality of television and radio broadcasting, as well as the improvement of the professional, artistic and ethical level of programs and broadcasts of television and radio organizations.”(article 5). There is no definition of what is meant by ‘quality ’, nor of professional, artistic and ethical standards. Legislation also tends to stress the responsibilities and duties of broadcasters, editors and journalists, rather than their rights. Clauses referring to the protection of ‘a person’s honor and dignity’ (e.g. Onufriichuk, 1998: 77) and invoking the state secrets act (Onufriichuk, 1998: 34 -44) limit and restrict the guarantees of freedom of speech and expression.

Also, some laws deal in detail with relatively minor matters, while failing to define some key terms. For instance, in article 18 of the law “On State Support for Mass Media and Social Protection of Journalists” (Onufriichuk, 1998: 224 -235) it states that the founder(s) of state-owned mass media must enable their journalists to use city transport (not, however, taxis) free of charge while on duty. On the other hand, none of the mass media laws includes a definition of what is meant by ‘commercial’ or ‘private’ broadcasters, although these terms appear frequently. While instances such as these might be attributable to a lack of legal tradition, it is also quite possible that such laws are intended as smokescreens, obscuring the real meaning intended behind the text (Jakubowicz, 1996: 18).

Secondly, even after the adoption of necessary legislation, the practise of governing by decree continues, leading to confusion and a regulatory framework that is subject to change at little or no notice. In the cases where laws were passed several years after independence, (e.g. the broadcasting law), those media outlets that operated were open to all manner of arbitrary decision by the authorities.

According to observers of - and participants in - the development of Ukrainian media policy, the majority of existing media laws are impossible to follow to the letter of the law (Poturaev, 2000, question 5; Ivanov, 2000b: 3). In most cases, supervisory bodies tend to turn a blind eye. However, these cases offer opportunities to shut down or severely disable uncomfortable media outlets, a practise which is widespread. One example of this would be the case, mentioned previously, of Pravda Ukrainy, a mouthpiece for Kuchma’s rival Lazarenko, which was closed down because of alleged ‘registration irregularities’. There are many similar cases (Hyde, 21/02/1999).

On the other hand, civil servants, government employees, even the government itself, routinely break the law. For instance, the broadcasting law clearly states that broadcasts are to be in the Ukrainian language. Regardless of this, a license was issued to the ‘Inter’ channel (and many other local channels) who broadcast primarily in Russian. More generally, the constitutional guarantee of the right to collect and disseminate information is rarely observed by the authorities (Ivanov, 2000b; Tsentr “Suspil’stvo”, 2000).

Instances of illegal censorship and harassment of media perceived to be oppositional abound (e.g. CPJ, 1999 and 2000). Popular methods employed by the authorities to silence uncomfortable media include repeated inspections by various state and city authorities, from tax inspectors to the fire department; declaring registration documents invalid; and, in the case of state-run printers, refusing to print a certain newspaper. One of the most ‘popular’ forms of media harassment is suing for libel. The Constitutional Court has ruled that it is illegal to publish any information at all about a person’s private life without their express consent. ‘Private’ information in this case included their date of birth, marital status, education, etc. (Ivanov, 2000b: 3). The law on libel foresees no maximum penalty for libel and does not take into account any real material losses; it also makes no distinction between private citizens and public figures (US Department of State, 1999: section 2). This has lead to cases where media outlets were literally sued out of business, such as the opposition daily Vseukrainskie Vedomosti. Finally, there are instances where the authorities are rumored to have been involved in the intimidation, beating and, as in the case of Heorhyi Gongadze (though he is by no means alone), killing of journalists.

These instances increase exponentially in the run-up to elections (e.g. Ott, 1998: 10/11; Woronowycz, 1999), leaving the question how ‘free and fair’ elections can be considered to be when they are not preceded by a ‘free and fair’ campaign which must necessarily include equal access to the media for all parties. This access is guaranteed by the electoral law, but monitors for the European Institute for the Media found that in many cases the law was not adhered to (UMB, 1998).

In some cases existing laws are not so much broken, as ignored. The struggle over the introduction of public broadcasting may serve as an example in this case. The law “On the System of Public Television and Radio Broadcasting of Ukraine” was passed by Parliament in July 1997. This was followed by several parliamentary resolutions concerning the establishment of “Public Ukrainian Radio and Television” (HURT) (Onufriichuk, 1998: 120 -122). Existing broadcasters, such as the channel ‘Inter’ and ‘Studio 1+1’ were reluctant to relinquish air time and there were fears in the government that HURT would be a ‘parliamentary’ channel (UMB, 1999) . In the end, all these supposedly legally binding documents were ignored and there is still no public broadcasting system in Ukraine. This climate of general lawlessness is clearly not conducive to the development of a democratic media.

Institutions
The fact that “[t]he main audiovisual mass media of Ukraine are state institutions” (Pryliuk, 1993: 283) is perhaps most obvious in the amount and nature of regulatory and supervisory authorities dealing with them. There is a whole host of state organs involved in the regulation, administration and supervision of broadcasting. The most important of these are the National Council for Television and Radio Broadcasting (National Council) and the State Committee for Television and Radio Broadcasting, Derzhteleradio. The National Council consists of 8 political appointees, four each from the President and the Parliament and is primarily in charge of licensing and frequency allocation. From December 1998 to June 2000, the National Council was effectively non-operational as the President refused to name his candidates in the time surrounding his reelection (CPJ, 1999). The National Council has sweeping powers to grant and revoke licenses and has been accused of political partisanship on many occasions (Gorchinskaya, 15/06/2000).

Derzhteleradio was created by presidential decree in January 1995 not long after Kuchma’s election victory over Kravchuk. It is a government department which is in charge of the National Television Company, the National Radio Company, and the regional state broadcasting companies in Crimea, Kyiv, Sevastopil and the country’s 24 regions (oblasti) (Richter, 1995). It also controls the Radio Broadcasting, Radio Communication and Television Concern (RRT), which runs communication channels and major transmitters and which had previously been a part of the Ministry of Communications. The Head of Derzhteleradio, as well as the directors of the two National Broadcasting Companies are appointed by the President.

In September 1998 President Kuchma surprised international and domestic observers alike by creating the joint-stock company Ukrteleradio and appointing the 30-year-old highly respected journalist Mykola Kniazhyts’kyi as its head. In spite of official assurance from the Minister of Information, Zinovyi Kulyk, that the new company would remain “100 % state owned” (Hodge, 1998), rumors abounded of the imminent privatization of state broadcasting. Kniazhyts’kyi has been a prominent figure in Ukrainian television since the early 1990s and forms part of a new, more vibrant generation of Ukrainian journalists. Before his appointment to Ukrteleradio, he had headed the private Kyiv-based ‘STB’ television station. One possible explanation for his appointment was that Kuchma hoped to be associated with this prominent and respected journalist in views of the upcoming presidential election, in the same way as Boris El’tsin in Russia had received support from prominent journalist Evgenii Kiselev in 1996 (ibid.). A more sinister interpretation suggested that Kuchma hoped to make use of the developing network of regional independent broadcasters which had been gathering under the umbrella of ‘STB’ (Intelnews, 1998).

However, two months later Kniazhyts’kyi had been replaced by Kuchma’s close ally Kulyk. The young journalist’s attempts to create a “Ukrainian BBC” (Hodge, 1998) had involved personnel changes, such as sacking television personality Vadym Dolhanov, a staunch presidential supporter and member of the ‘old camp’ (Hodge, 1998) and announcing a thorough audit of the company. These moves ran afoul both of Kulyk, with whom Kniazhyts’kyi had come into conflict in the past, and Kuchma himself, ending all hope, at least for the time being, for a thorough reform of Ukrainian broadcasting.

It seems then, that although important decisions such as the appointment (and dismissal) of key positions, the allocation of licenses, etc. are no longer the prerogative of totalitarian bodies such as the Communist Party, but of democratically elected state organs, “the fundamental relation of the dependence of the media on external political authorities and the reduction of the public to a mass of passive consumers” (Splichal, 1994: 48) has not changed.

Russian Influence
A cursory analysis of parliamentary debates and draft legislation reveals that all these policy issues are not high on most policy makers’ agenda. Instead, Ukrainian lawmakers and government officials seem to be obsessed with the creation of a ‘national information space’ and the encroachment upon this ‘space’ by Russian-language media. These catch phrases abound in legislation, in parliamentary hearings and resolutions (e.g. Onufriichuk, 1998; Drach, 2001; Hyde, 18/02/1999). The Constitution and the laws dealing with various aspects of the media stipulate the use of Ukrainian as the only official state language. However, about two thirds of the country’s periodicals are Russian or bilingual (Russian and Ukrainian) (Karpachova, 2000), Russian-language programs are still common on television, especially in the East of the country. Given the history of Ukraine, it is understandable that some parts of society (including many politicians) want to shake off the Russian domination of the Ukrainian informational space. In a vein reminiscent of the cultural imperialism debates of the 1970s (Sreberny-Mohammadi, 1996: 178 -181) they fear a media take-over from their larger neighbor and former ‘colonizer’.

The example of ORT, described in the previous section, might serve to illustrate the issue of Russian vs. Ukrainian in the Ukrainian mass media. The switching of ORT and later replacement with ‘Inter’ was motivated as much by a desire to limit the availability of Russian broadcasting, perceived as anti-Ukrainian, as by economic considerations. Policy makers seem torn between providing the audience with the programming they desire⁵, and the perceived need to forge a national identity (Price, 1998: 82).

These discussions on the negative influence Russian and Russian-language media are having on the young Ukrainian state ignore the real issues. The fact remains that large parts of the population prefer Russian programming (Hyde, 18/02/1999), probably due to the fact that so far Ukrainian broadcasters have been slow off the mark in producing informative and entertaining programs of their own, although the situation seems to be slowly improving (Bihun, 1998). A better understanding is needed of how the Ukrainian audience uses the (Russian or Ukrainian) media, an issue which has not yet been studied.

Jakubowicz identifies a number of motives that inspire media policy in Eastern European countries (Jakubowicz, 1996: 18). Among them are the desire to maintain government control and the desire for Western acceptance. Considering the fact that media legislation in Ukraine generally corresponds to Western democratic standards on paper, but leaves much to be desired in practice, it seems safe to assume that at least one motivating factor must have been the need to gain acceptance from Western allies and potential donor countries. Much of the reality of Ukrainian media policy, however, betrays a desire to maintain government control. While Parliament is busy discussing the effects of Russian-language programming on the Ukrainian national psyche, the government is ensuring that the media, especially broadcasting, remain firmly in its control. Regulation has not been effective in preventing oligarchs from dominating the media market. At best, Ukrainian media policy seems to be inspired by a perceived need to protect national interests and to forge a nation. At worst, it is motivated primarily by the personal interest of policy-makers.

4. Conclusion