Among other things, Ms. Dutt and her network NDTV, have been accused of hysterical and sensational reporting, of broadcasting live images of sensitive locations and operations, and airing unconfirmed reports as fact.

At least two Facebook groups have been started, with thousands of members discussing the shortcomings of the Indian broadcast media, and what is being called "shoddy" and "irresponsible" journalism.

Ms. Dutt, who is the managing editor of NDTV, refutes these charges. In a formal statement posted on NDTV.com, she writes, "… we would have been happy to stand at a distance much further away from the encounter sites had anyone, anyone at all, asked us to move … We often delayed live telecasting of images that we thought were sensitive so as to not compromise the ongoing operation. Not once were we asked by anyone in authority, to switch our cameras off, or withold [sic] images."

Ms. Dutt is certainly not the only journalist to have come under scrutiny - Arnab Goswami, chief editor of Times Now, and Rajdeep Sardesai, editor-in-chief of CNN-IBN being some of the others - though as one of the most prestigious and well-known, she is possibly the easiest target for criticism.

"I find that Barkha Dutt is one such presenter where you've got almost the best and the worst of both worlds," says Kaustav Bhattacharya, 33, co-creator of the Facebook group "Barkha Dutt for worst senior journalist on the planet" who lives in the UK. "You have a very charismatic, very emotional person, who obviously connects with the viewer, and with the people that [she's] interviewing. But on the flip side, when placed in a situation where a lot of extreme demands were placed upon her and her colleagues, it didn't really work out the way I guess it should have."

In the days that followed, what began as criticism of the broadcast media's coverage by a few bloggers and viewers, has become a discussion in the country on the role of the media, the government, and the security agencies, in situations such as these. In a press conference last week, Navy Chief Admiral Sureesh Mehta said, "I think you need to consider if there is really [a] need for this extensively heavy reporting of the kind that we have seen from Mumbai. There are tactical implications. When there are ongoing operations you show commandos coming down from a helicopter and these terrorists were getting information on their cell phones."

A quick look at the archived video, however, suggests that the security agencies, including the Navy, provided the media with interviews and sound bites, and in several cases, details of ongoing operations. In the absence of a unified front, different agencies gave various members of the media separate, and sometimes, conflicting versions of events.

As Ms. Dutt points out, "There was no central point of contact or information for journalists who were often left to their own devices to hunt down news that they felt had to be conveyed to their country. No do's and don'ts were provided by officials."

At one point during the siege, TV news channels in South Mumbai were blacked out for forty-five minutes following an order by Sheela Sial, Deputy Commissioner of Police. Though intended to prevent impediments in police action, this temporary blackout may have, however, been responsible for creating panic and rampant rumor-mongering as the public relied on the news channels to provide information.

But despite the television media's claims that they did abide by the guidelines and do their jobs, several grave errors were made along the way.

In his commentary at Forbes.com, Michael Pollack, an American who was at the Taj Mahal Palace, describes how the hotel staff escorted them down to The Chambers, a members-only area, where 250 people hid in six rooms. He recalls being told that this was the safest place because the army was now guarding its two entrances.

"But then," he writes, "a member of parliament phoned into a live newscast and let the world know that hundreds of people - including CEOs, foreigners and members of parliament - were 'secure and safe in The Chambers together.'"

During a crisis such as this, breathless and panicked reporting may be forgiven. But the elitism displayed by many among the news media has left viewers cringing. Why is it, many are asking, that the Taj of the wealthy was given more coverage than the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus of the common man? As the broadcast media proudly proclaimed the Taj "an icon of India," they forgot to mention that only a tiny percentage of the population of Mumbai, and indeed India, can afford to step foot inside its doors. In contrast, the CST - which is also an icon - is one of the busiest railway stations in the country and the site of the largest number of casualties.

As the American and British media focused on their own, counting the number of American and British casualties, the Indian English-language media focused on its own - the elite and upper middle-class that frequents the Taj and the Oberoi Trident. While many have admitted to and rectified this oversight, during the three days of the siege, the plight of the common person at the CST was grossly neglected.

What grated on the sensitivities of viewers even more were the sensational headlines ("Enough is enough: India's 9/11," "War on Mumbai - The Longest Running Horror Show"), the lack of any real information, and the constant references to information shared by "inside sources," which in many cases turned out to be inaccurate.

While the TV channels were busy chasing "exclusives," no one stopped to question the dangers of revealing the locations of still-trapped hostages or airing information about the captured terrorist and his interrogators. Indeed, in the rush to get the latest scoop, reporters forgot to analyze why, despite their claims that the number of the deceased would double, the figure hardly moved. In proclaiming our commandos as brave heroes, they became biased, incapable of questioning any holes in the operation. In showing Indian flags and pointing fingers towards Pakistan before any proof materialized, they became responsible for influencing public perception.

In an article on Tehelka.com, Ammu Joseph, a freelance journalist and media analyst, writes that the electronic media did not live up to the recently unveiled self-regulatory Code of Ethics and Broadcasting Standards adopted by the News Broadcasters Association, and despite their rebuttals, did not abide by these self-regulatory guidelines.

But all this media-bashing, while necessary and true, is diverting the spotlight from other important players: the government and security agencies.

The National Security Guard (NSG), which praised the electronic media's coverage and often provided them with details of the operation, is now pushing for restrictions on media coverage during operations. The government too has recently sent out guidelines for media coverage, asking, among other things, that the broadcast networks not indulge in politician-bashing.

"I think there's a bit of buck passing going on," says Mr. Bhattacharya who is a software engineer working in the field of social media. "Some of the Indian news channels need to really focus in on how they as an industry, as peers who work with each other, [and] compete against each other, come to either a written, spoken, or even to some degree an unspoken consensus of standards that they abide by."

The Indian broadcast industry is still relatively new in its current form. After Independence, India mostly had state-run television, and it is only over the last decade that private players have come of age.

And while pointing a microphone at a concerned relative and asking him if he's worried may be bad form, it is not criminal. The charge of endangering lives, which has squarely fallen on the media's shoulders, takes the focus away from the people who actually had that responsibility - the government and the NSG.

What is being termed a failure of the media, is in fact, a huge failure on the part of our security forces. The real fault lies, not with the media, who reported what they were legally permitted to, but of the heads of security who went on camera and gave away operational details, of the officers who admitted on-camera to a lack of manpower, lack of planning, and lack of equipment.

The media was the messenger and a less-than-stellar one at that. But what was, and continues to remain disturbing, is why the people who were entrusted with the responsibility of protecting the country were not able to protect their own men from a few irresponsible members of the media. If the media was getting in the way, as the NSG is now saying, why were they continually given access during the siege?

In the answer to that may lie the bigger evil: It wasn't just the terrorists that used the media as a tool to get their fifteen minutes of fame, but also the politicians, the top security officials, and editors and reporters themselves.

And allowing them to do so without responsibility may have been the media's collective failure during the Mumbai siege.



About the Author
Mridu Khullar is an independent journalist from New Delhi, India. For the past six years, she has written extensively about human rights and women's issues in Asia and Africa. Her work has been published in Time, Elle, Marie Claire, Ms., Women’s eNews, and East West, among others.

Khullar is currently a Visiting Scholar at UC Berkeley's Graduate School of Journalism. Visit her website at www.mridukhullar.com.