A lonely and deadly game.

Since the beginning of the internal strife in Algeria, at least 35 journalists, three of them prominent women, have been murdered. Journalists can not be seen to be biased in favour of either the State or the Islamists without putting their lives in jeopardy. But a strictly enforced code of reporting means neither can they be independent. Speaking in Paris, Salima Ghezali, managing editor of the French language weekly La Nation, made a deep impression on the audience at a forum entitled The Medias of Hate. Most of those present were hearing, for the first time, an Algerian journalist's personal account of the strictures under which journalists in her homeland are being forced to operate.

"We are no longer under a state of open dictatorship. The regime claims it is a modern state fighting against barbaric terrorism. It gives us a certain space within which to manoeuvre", Salima Ghezali, managing editor of La Nation, which reaches a readership of 60,000, told the Paris forum. But it soon became clear to those present, that the job of Algerian journalists is not so much difficult as impossible, in these troubled days. Caught up between the opposing factions of State and Islamists, many journalists live in fear of their lives, more than 35 have been murdered since the beginning of the internal conflict in the country.

Those attempting to do their job are constantly walking a tightrope. "If there is a clash, if someone is murdered, we cannot do our own investigation; we cannot send reporters, we cannot ask witnesses to fell us what they have seen. If one does, the newspaper is suspended for between 40 days and 6 months, you never know the length of the ban you are risking. Any information concerning security related matters must come from the official government news agency. Wecan only reprint the official communiques."

Clearly, adds Salima Ghezali, the image the press gives of the war is 'truncated and contradictory".

Between periods of complete silence, the government speaks of sabotages and barbaric terrorism, it distributes pictures of murdered women and of assassinated journalists as well as victorious press releases claiming that so many dozens of terrorists have been killed - but these communiques never mention the losses of the army. "It gives a somewhat absurd image of this war", says Salima.

"It is clear that two forces are in presence but we hear only about one side. It is definitely out of the question to mention the army's losses. We would be banned right away."

However, despite the inordinate lengths the government is prepared to go to, to prevent the truth leaking out, the people know what is really going on.

Information spreads via a sort of bush telegraph, over which the authorities have no power. "Friends or relatives living where the action took place talk together and information spreads. When the army claims 15 terrorists were killed in El Harrach, people living there telephone and tell us: 'Only two were really Islamist militants, The others were poor guys caught in the crossfire.' We know it, but we can't publish it".

Besides security related information, there are many other things that the Algerian press cannot publish including everything that might concern secret contacts between the regime and the Islamists. Such contacts are a permanent and ongoing feature of the Algerian political situation, claims Salima Ghezali. The go-betweens are personalities linked to one clan or another. "It is absolutely impossible to name these people because it would affect the balance of the hard-core of the regime.

"Corruption is another matter that can be dealt with in the press, in general terms but again, without mentioning names. Many politicians have files about specific people, but they cannot reveal them - they say their lives, and the lives of any journalists they might leak the information to, would be put at grave risk."

When writing about matters such as corruption and repression, a strange indirect approach must be employed. An Algerian newspaper can write that there are house searches, that there is torture, that whole districts of Algiers are constantly harassed, surrounded by tanks, and that the young people are increasingly becoming targets of the security forces. But this information must be 'dressed up' in a particular way, if it is to pass the censor.

"We can speak of repression, but without giving details", says Salima. "I can write that Bab el Oued went through a very hot night, but I have to do it in a literary way, without saying which branch of the security forces was involved, how many people were killed - without relating the facts themselves.

When we announce some murders, we say that the case is not very clear, that there was no independent investigation... we do it every week.

"So, no hard news, but commentaries, yes, we can and we do publish many of them, about the torture, the killing. Sometimes we write very harsh editorials.

After the battle in Ain Defla, we said that an army was shooting on its own people. Concerning the massacre of women, we have said that during a war women and children are bound to be victims of the fighting. And that no one should be misled by the tricks of power".

Explaining why her newspaper can get away with publishing such comments Salima Ghezali observed: "We don't deal with a unified regime, on the contrary, these people are so divided between themselves... And they are scornful of politics and politicians other than their own. Obviously, they would be happier if we were not here, but they know that our articles are not going to overthrow their regime. As long as they hang on to the essentials - money and security - they don't care". And, in addition, Salima notes, "The international factor, the solidarity, the international mobilisation in favour of the Algerian journalists has played a major role in ensuring that they retain some voice".

However, Salima is under no illusions "We know that if they pull out their scheme of organising presidential elections then they will turn the screw on us. They would like to imitate the Tunisian scenario, with an appearance of legality, a ferocious repression, and a consenting civilian 'elite'.

"Our main task", she says, "is to expose the contradictions of the regime; those in power are betting on the fact that the people will forget what they said one day, one week or one month earlier; we remind them. We also believe we are here to build bridges, to defuse the pervasive hate. This is why we give the legal opposition a chance to speak for themselves and why we ran interviews with people like Boukhemkhem and Djeddi, two leaders of the FIS, when they were released from jail".

Apparently this editorial formula is very successful, according to the feed back the newspaper receives in the form of mail, from all sections of the readership.

When Omar Attic, the publisher of La Nation, stopped publishing the newspaper last year from April to September, following two assassination attempts on the life of journalist, Abed Charef, he received thousands of letters from readers imploring him to resume publication. And after La Nation published its articles on the case of the murdered women, it received letters from obviously pro-Islamist readers who said: 'We do not share your views, but we respect you: at least, you are real democrats'.

"Our readers are tired of reading newspapers that unconditionally support the regime, and that are full of calls to hate", says Salima.

By necessity, Salima Ghezali is very discreet about her daily life. Born near Bouira in 1958, she is the daughter of a poor mason and one of 11 children, all of whom went to university.

After gaining a degree in French Literature from Algiers university she became active in a number of womens organisations and taught French in a lycee for 10 years. In 1990 she founded a review called Nyssa. After writing a column in La Nation, she was appointed managing editor in November 1994. These days, she says, she rarely sees her two children. Salima tries to avoid establishing patterns living with a few bags here and there, she shuttles from one flat to another. Is she afraid?

Frail looking but determined, Salima answers: "We all have a very ambiguous relationship with death. We were so scared when the first journalist was murdered but afterwards... And we have to do something. If we didn't, we wouldn't dare look at ourselves in the mirror".