Think of It This Way: "The Right To Fight"   

That's what American journalists have, and it is envied.

"Freedom of information," we like to say. "The right to know," people sometimes call it. But Richard Tebere of Uganda, a journalist who has just spent nine months here, may have described it better. The press in this country, he said, is blessed with "the right to fight" for information.

Richard writes for the Monitor in Kampala under the pen name "Pole Pole," which means "go slowly" in Swahili. He has not been going slowly here.

He is among 17 journalists from 17 countries who have just finished an academic year at Maryland's journalism school, including field experiences coast to coast. We asked them for observations that might help us with the next crop of Hubert H. Humphrey Fellows in Journalism, part of the USIA-funded Fulbright program, who will be at Maryland and Syracuse.

What would they like to say first about the press in this country?

For Richard, the key to it all is "the right to fight for access to information." He has observed how many forces try to control or stop the flow, and he understands the good fortune of American journalists because of their standing and power to hold their own.

He knows this is an everyday challenge, though, and his own future is involved. "If American journalists give up the struggle, even with the First Amendment," he said, "what will happen to the rest of us?"

The fellows have talked about various journalistic foibles, misuse of power by the press, the blank spots in coverage of important matters. But the main answer was: To them we are unbelievably fortunate.

Robinson Makayi of Zambia once spent a year in prison, six months of it in solitary, for what he had written. His best jailbird friends were two bank robbers. (That may or may not tell us something about journalists.) He intends to be a builder of journalism institutions and journalism training once back home.

Yuri Sigov, a Russian, said he had wanted to know whether journalists are very influential here and found they are. "These dogs do have a bite." In Russia now, he said, journalists "can criticize anybody and nobody listens."

Bill Ramirez of Bolivia concluded that our press is very business-oriented. Alberto Donadio of Colombia was impressed by the "accountability" that the press imposes upon public figures. Jae-Hak Lee of Korea was surprised at how well American journalists use information systems and libraries to fill in gaps in their own knowledge.

"It is easy to be a journalist here," said Boris Spiridonov of Bulgaria, where it is not easy. Eugen Serbanescu of Romania, also emerging from a communist past, found that journalists command respect here because of their role in society. (And, he said, once back in Romania he must "invent copy editors.")

These 17 journalists, now bonded to each other, have a remarkable commitment to developing and keeping a free press. Some are deeply concerned about their immediate futures because of assaults upon journalists and civil turmoil. All return home as privileged people and yet, compared with journalists here, are in some ways deprived.

A haunting note came from one. He may be more frustrated than ever when he goes back, he said. "It is like seeing a wonderful feast and not being able to eat." l