Consider the scene. A man with untold blood on his hands finds himself in the state’s warm embrace. The military establishment, keen to keep his head firmly pressed to its bosom where it belongs, has gone the extra mile. With a single swoosh of its magic wand, which comes in a rather dashing little khaki-camouflage number, Pakistan’s security set-up has demonstrated its rather progressive side. For it has quite disarmingly turned the traditional notion of a fairy godmother on its gendered head by granting Ehsanullah Eshan three wishes. First off, the existing charges registered against him by the sate have been done away with. Similarly, he has been afforded immunity from any additional moves toward due process. And finally, in the very best of goodwill gestures — the military establishment has assumed the role of his public relations manager. Poor Malala. If only she had been a born a poor boy from a poor family. Reality bites in Pakistan. Indeed, we should have our own scripted reality television shows where the audience decides who should cool it and who should blow. But until then, the media seems to be doing a pretty good job of stepping in. That the one-time spokesperson for the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan and the Jamaat-ul-Ahrar was scheduled to appear on the country’s largest private television network to dish the dirt on his former masters and their alleged funding by foreign donors speaks volumes. And gives a whole new meaning to the old gramophone logo, His Master’s Voice. PEMRA was right in pulling the plug on the interview. The media, of course, has no business in providing any kind of platform to one who will never have to answer for his crimes. Unless, of course it is the British media we are talking about. And then there is absolutely no compunction in seeing a thrice-elected former prime minister go all talking heads rather than be hauled before the courts for war crimes. Yet this notion of responsibility extends beyond mainstream media. Documentary makers often like to refer to themselves as filmmakers to underscore the balancing of technical input with creativity. And that is all well and good. Except that such narratives are a genre of journalism, meaning that they, too, need to follow a certain code of conduct. Two recent features spring to mind within this context. Both made by women about crimes against women. Both exceptionally good. Yet both raise similar questions when it comes to the media compromising the tenets of a free and fair trial. Leslee Udwin’s India’s Daughter focuses on the 2012 brutal gang rape and murder of New Dehli physiotherapy student Jyoti Singh. Controversy arose when the Indian government came to know that it features an interview with one of the rapists, who at the time of filming and subsequent broadcasting was still awaiting his appeal hearing. Thus Delhi pulled the plug on it mere days before it was due to air. Though this was insufficient to push the BBC into holding off on international broadcasts. Which brings us to the following. When a documentary maker is granted permission to film subjects for whom the path of due process has yet to reach its final conclusion — both those behind the camera as well as the intended broadcaster should be duty bound to clarify timeframes. Meaning that it must be made clear to audiences, as well as the relevant authorities, whether the final footage has been re-edited to follow a certain order of chronology. In Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy’s beautifully executed, A girl in the River: The Price of Forgiveness — confusion surrounds the timing of statements given by the arresting police officer as well as those of Saba Qaiser’s father and uncle, both of whom were charged with her attempted murder. For, once again, the final edit places these as occurring before the two men faced trial. Sensitivity towards a particular subject matter or, indeed, subsequent calls for justice should in no way mean a compromise of journalistic ethics. For when this happens — it becomes all too easy for the guardians of patriarchy to change the conversation from that of pre-mediated violence against women to that of an out of control media. By donning a pair of the softest kid gloves that it could find for its handling of Ehsanullah Ehsan, Pakistan’s security establishment has done much to demonstrate its sharing and caring side. Yet it would do well to rediscover its steel fist. If not, it will find that the bloodshed will seep through and stain those gloves. And, much like Lady Macbeth, no matter how much it tries to wash them clean — that damned spot will never be rinsed away. The writer is the Deputy Managing Editor, Daily Times. She can be reached at mirandahusain@me.com and tweets @humeiwei