Story

Anthony Mitchell

Nicholas Wadhams and Zoe Alsop, for the Pulitzer Center

The Associated Press has confirmed that Anthony Mitchell, one of its Nairobi correspondents, died in Saturday morning's crash of Kenya Airways flight KQ507 in Cameroon.

Anthony was a friend. He lived in Nairobi because Ethiopia's government expelled him in January 2006 for his reports of human rights abuses by Meles Zenawi's government. Anthony's expulsion drew little complaint from the governments of Britain, where he was born, or the United States, where AP is based. Yet inside Ethiopia, it was big news, and still is.

When we were in Ethiopia, more than a year after Anthony left, people were still talking about his reporting. Those with ties to the government were critical, of course; everyone else said he had done more to publicize Meles' abuses than any other journalist in his years there. Testimony to the quality of his work comes from Ethiopia's many bloggers, who are mourning his death. Lots of posts: here, here, here, here, and one with many comments here.

What could be a more obvious sign of the government's attitude toward the press _ and its confidence that the US would support it no matter what _ than its decision to kick out a respected foreign reporter, and one who worked for an American news agency, no less? One U.S. official told us the expulsion was simple: Anthony was told to leave because he was right. Coming from the Americans, that was saying something. The official described Anthony as the de facto leader of the Addis press corps and a rabble-rouser. His tough questions set the tone at press conferences, and people got uncomfortable with normally respectful Ethiopian reporters taking up his tactics.

Anthony told us that in the days before he was kicked out, Bereket Simon, a close Meles adviser, called him at home and threatened him. This was after Anthony helped break the news of an investigation that found police had killed more than 190 people protesting seriously flawed elections in May 2005. In an interview, U.S. Ambassador Donald Yamamoto called Bereket a straight shooter known for delivering the unvarnished truth.

It was no surprise that the Committee to Protect Journalists recently named Ethiopia the world's worst backslider on press freedom. Anthony's case showed that. Death threats in Ethiopia are a common tactic. We got one in a city called Jijiga, in the east, after we visited a prison where an ethnic Somali with a U.S. green card was being held incognito. He walked out to the interview with a pronounced limp that he had not brought to prison. After about 30 seconds, his guards cut off the interview and kicked us out.

When we returned to Nairobi, we asked Anthony about all the furor he had caused. He seemed pleased that he was responsible for so much trouble. He also seemed a little miffed that a couple of neophytes like us could roam around Ethiopia for a month while he, with all his sources and wisdom, would never be allowed to return to a place he loved.

A few weeks later, Anthony broke a story revealing that terror suspects were illegally sent from Somalia to Ethiopia for questioning by CIA and FBI officials. Typically, the Ethiopian government said that reporters who write such things live in an "Ivory Tower."

In February, I went out for a drink with Anthony to run some story ideas by him. As we finished up, a police officer carrying an assault rifle as long as my leg strutted past. I felt a bit cowed. Anthony looked up at the guy, and, with a healthy dose of sarcasm, asked: "You're not going to shoot us with that thing, are you?"

I lowered my eyes in embarrassment and fear. The policeman looked at him, surprised by the affront. Anthony smiled. He mocked the officer for Kenya's new policy that allows police to shoot robbers on site. I kept my eyes down, wishing he would shut up and worried we were about to get into trouble. At last, the officer let out a confused laugh. We stood and Anthony shook his hand. What a way to make friends.