Introduction

Common professional wisdom indicates that corruption is one of those issues in which journalists can perform the role of ‘custodians of public conscience’ (Ettema and Glasser, 1998), discovering and making public, behaviours that undermine the general interest. We intend corruption as an ‘umbrella concept’ (Varraich, 2014) including several unfair behaviours, such as embezzlement, clientelism, bribery and so on, that imply ‘the abuse of entrusted power for private gain’ (Transparency International, 2009) and that take place at the intersection of public and private domains. In the so-called liberal model of journalism, the coverage of corruption cases becomes a competitive resource while embodying the ideals of watch-dog functions: a large literature exists stressing how free press may curb corruption (Brunetti and Weder, 2003; Stapenhurst, 2000). However, this is not always the case: the conditions under which this may happen and with what language is the focus of this Special Issue of the European Journal of Communication.

In many countries, the coverage of corruption cases is a tricky business, packed with ambiguity and confusion: most of the times, the leaks from which corruption stories originate derive from dubious sources, first of all from secret service agents; the interests that motivate the leaks are often obscure; journalists themselves play blurred and contradictory roles and, not rarely, they are exposed to a number of pressures that are inserted within networks of unfair and illegal behaviours. Obviously, some of these conditions can be observed also in well established democracies. This is what emerges from many of the articles included in this Special Issue dealing with corruption coverage in new/transitional democracies while other contributions highlight successful initiatives of investigative journalists mostly in well-established democracies.

The context surrounding professional journalism activity may indicate some of the reasons for the weakness of the role of ‘custodians’. Indeed, ‘journalism does not grow up in a vacuum’: specific conditions are needed because investigative journalism could become an obstacle for the diffusion of unlawful behaviours. These conditions pertain to the most general structure of the society and its political culture and we are becoming progressively aware that they can be observed, as Curran and Park (2000) once stated, just in a ‘tiny handful of countries’ (p. 3), while in large parts of the world we observe very different conditions. Political volatility, instability of rules, personalized politics with frequent overlappings between business, politics and media seem to represent serious obstacles for the development of successful operations of investigative journalism. Within these conditions, journalistic independency is continuously threatened, and it is the subject of frequent limitations. Moreover, it is further influenced by poor economic resources that do not allow to employ a sufficient number of reporters on the investigation of single stories. The frequently discussed crisis of journalism of the last few years worsens further the scarcity of economic resources.

These conditions are in line with what the existing literature on corruption highlights: it flourishes particularly in those countries that are characterized by political instability, weakness of the legal apparatus, diffused state intervention in the economy and, more generally, poorer economic conditions (Treisman, 2000). The motto ‘A free press is bad news for corruption’, deriving from one of the best known studies on news media and corruption (Brunetti and Weder, 2003) can hardly be applied in these countries where a framework of often contrasting and illegal interests profoundly addresses the coverage of corruption.

The articles of this Special Issue, in large part deriving from the European Union (EU) funded project ANTICORRP (Anticorruption Policies Revisited), ¹ show how it is possible to see a major difference between the representation of corruption cases in the so-called established democracies that are examined in the following pages (United Kingdom and France) and in new/transitional democracies of Central Eastern Europe, while Italy (analysed in several of the papers included here) highlights specific features pertaining to both groups of countries. In new/transitional democracies, corruption appears much more widespread and mainly in politics and public administration: its coverage is deeply affected by all the limiting conditions that have been discussed so far. In the more established democracies of Western Europe, an important check against corruption derives from civil society, and particularly from the press. Here, the coverage of corruption cases involves very often businessmen, corporations, foreign trades and foreign public officials, while very few are the cases of corruption involving home politicians and public officials.

The essays in this Special Issue do not allow us to state that established democracies are less corrupt than new/transitional democracies (even if there are other indicators confirming this statement), rather it appears evident that in new/transitional democracies corruption coverage is part of what John Thompson has defined as ‘the politics of trust’ (Thompson, 2000): where and when political parties are weaker, where and when politics is mostly personalized, where and when public institutions and their proceedings are not well established and media scandals, mostly corruption scandals, become a perfect occasion to attack and destroy the reputation of the opponent. The coverage of corruption cases itself becomes part of the political struggle, and political competitors try to use this instrument as much as possible, also thanks to their ability to limit and address the work of reporters.

In a way, ‘the politics of trust’ exacerbates even further the perception of corruption in those countries where undoubtedly it exists and is widespread. This emerges clearly from the paper by Szanto et al., where they point out the main focus of national and local cases of corruption in the new democracies of Central and Eastern Europe, with a major attention on the agent, who in most of the cases is a politician or a public official. In this article, they talk of ‘institutionalization’ of corruption, that is, repeated cases of corruption involving multiple actors. On the contrary, French and British journalism focuses mostly on international cases of corruption. ‘The politics of trust’ emerges clearly also from the paper by Gerli, Mazzoni and Mincigrucci that highlights all the surrounding conditions producing a sort of ‘pseudo-investigative journalism’ whose major goal appears to become an active player in the political struggle rather than being a neutral defender of the ‘public conscience’. Milojevic and Krstic show how strong (and rarely dangerous) can be the pressures on the reporters in several countries of ex Jugoslavia to influence their coverage so that it becomes instrument of political and business competition.

When journalists report on corruption cases, as it emerges from the article by Bratu and Kazoka, they are inclined to use a metaphorical language that, while it simplifies the events to be described, often risks allowing corruption to appear as something inevitable.

New opportunities for investigative journalism are finally discussed in the article by Pollack and Allern: the growth of the Internet and the recent tendency of investigative journalists to cooperate represent new occasions to monitor and reveal unlawful behaviours. This is clearly demonstrated in the corruption case discussed by the two scholarisms, such as it emerges from the much covered case of Panama papers too. This paper shows also how corporations based in Western, supposedly less corrupt realities take advantage of the higher level of corruption in foreign countries.

We learn from the articles of this Special Issue that the world of journalism is manifold, that it does not respond to a unique professional model that is deeply affected by the surrounding conditions addressing its ‘mission’ and, in many cases, limiting the possibility to foster common good.