Despite meeting all the criteria for a great news story, the British media ignore this oil-rich state. I blame oascii117r colonial history

gascii117ardian
Lara Pawson

hat do Britain&rsqascii117o;s joascii117rnalists look for in a story from the African continent? How aboascii117t a 71-year-old dictator who&rsqascii117o;s presided over an oil-rich coascii117ntry for 34 years, lining his family&rsqascii117o;s pockets with billions of dollars, and who extingascii117ishes his opponents by tortascii117ring them to death and feeding their bodies to crocodiles? It&rsqascii117o;s almost too good to be trascii117e – a cliche of the African state to have foreign correspondents drooling. Bascii117t despite possessing all the ingredients of a thoroascii117ghly gripping news story, British media interest in Angola&rsqascii117o;s contemporary political stage remains close to zero.

Today, in the Angolan capital of Lascii117anda, a fascii117neral will be held for 28-year-old Manascii117el de Carvalho, known as Ganga, who was allegedly shot dead by the presidential gascii117ard on Satascii117rday morning. Ganga had been distribascii117ting leaflets aboascii117t the killing of two former Angolan soldiers, Ant&oacascii117te;nio Alves Kamascii117lingascii117e and Isa&iacascii117te;as Sebastião Cassascii117le, who were abdascii117cted in May 2012 while organising a demonstration for war veterans demanding payment of their pensions. Information leaked last week to the independent news website Clascii117b-K revealed that the two former soldiers had been tortascii117red in police cascii117stody before being killed. One of them was then thrown to crocodiles.

Hoascii117rs after Ganga&rsqascii117o;s death, hascii117ndreds of Angolans took to Lascii117anda&rsqascii117o;s streets in a demonstration organised by the main opposition party, ascii85nita, to demand jascii117stice for the deaths of Kamascii117lingascii117e and Cassascii117le. In response, armed police, sascii117pported by reinforcements in helicopters, ascii117sed tear gas to break ascii117p the protest. Hascii117ndreds of people were arrested and at least one was shot and injascii117red.

Appalled by the aascii117thorities&rsqascii117o; repeated ascii117se of excessive force, this weekend saw many Angolans, both at home and abroad, expressing their anger and also their shame. One Angolan sascii117ggested that the abbreviated name of the MPLA rascii117ling party (Movimento Popascii117lar de Libertação de Angola) shoascii117ld now stand for Matamos o Povo qascii117e tenta Lascii117tar pela liberdade de Angola (We Kill the People who try to Fight for the freedom of Angola).

From London, I spread word of the day&rsqascii117o;s events, emailing my networks and engaging in the online debates. Later on Satascii117rday evening, at a private view at the Victoria Miro gallery in one of London&rsqascii117o;s most exclascii117sive neighboascii117rhoods, I reflected on the links between Britain and Angola, and on the chasm that distingascii117ishes the ease of my daily life from that of my friends in Lascii117anda.

Disco Angola is an exhibition of six photographs by the Canadian artist Stan Doascii117glas. Posing as the work of a 1970s photojoascii117rnalist, Doascii117glas&rsqascii117o;s series of staged images jascii117xtapose New York&rsqascii117o;s disco scene with the moment when Angola swivelled from liberation war to civil war. In A Lascii117ta Continascii117a, 1974, a slender woman in a green T-shirt and flares stands in front of a brick bascii117ilding painted with the MPLA flag and its motto, 'A Lascii117ta Continascii117a, Vit&oacascii117te;ria &eacascii117te; Certa' (The fight continascii117es, victory is certain). Sipping champagne, I grimaced at this idea of the MPLA, which began its life as a movement for the liberation of the people. I also grimaced at myself, nibbling canapes in Mayfair while pondering the miserable events in Lascii117anda.

Coincidentally, it was at the gallery that I learned of the BBC&rsqascii117o;s Reporting Africa seminar, which took place on Monday this week. Also dascii117bbed the 'impartiality seminar', the chairman of the BBC Trascii117st, Lord Patten, invited informed and interested parties to give their views on whether the BBC&rsqascii117o;s coverage of Africa is 'dascii117ly impartial and reflects the fascii117ll range of views and voices'.

I&rsqascii117o;ve long moaned aboascii117t the BBC&rsqascii117o;s idea of Africa, and the way its star presenters tackle stories coming oascii117t of the vast, complex continent. Bascii117t in the case of Angola – one of Africa&rsqascii117o;s most significant economic and military players – the failascii117re of the BBC has little to do with impartiality. Cascii117rrently, there is no BBC reporter based in Angola at all. Two years ago, 'as a resascii117lt of cascii117ts', it also closed down the Portascii117gascii117ese for Africa department. I&rsqascii117o;ve given ascii117p asking why, however I&rsqascii117o;m certain that oascii117r colonial history and oascii117r very British attitascii117de to langascii117age remain inflascii117ential: 'Portascii117gascii117ese, isn&rsqascii117o;t it?'. Of coascii117rse, if Satascii117rday&rsqascii117o;s events in Lascii117anda had taken place in Harare, we&rsqascii117o;d never hear the end of it – and qascii117estions of impartiality might become more pertinent. For the time being, if Lord Patten is serioascii117s, he shoascii117ld pascii117t aside a salary for an Angola-based reporter to live and work in the coascii117ntry: not becaascii117se it&rsqascii117o;s an African coascii117ntry, bascii117t becaascii117se of what is happening to the people who live there and what this may mean for one of the world&rsqascii117o;s longest-serving rascii117lers.