There are two men in the Czech Republic who have their own regular TV programmes during which they sit down, look straight at the TV camera and then speak to the nation, in order to tell the citizens how they see things and what they regard as important for this country.

One of these men is Vaclav Havel. He is the President of the Czech Republic. His programme is broadcast by the Czech public service television once a year, on the 1st of January at lunchtime. The programme is called "The New Year Address of the President of the Republic".

The other man is Vladimir Zelezny. He is the chief executive of a small, but highly successful Central European "Nova TV". This television station broadcasts Mr. Zelezny's programme every Saturday at lunchtime. The programme is called ASK THE DIRECTOR.

Which of these two men has more opportunity to influence the public opinion in this country? Is it the first man, the President, whose mandate is underlined by the respect of the whole world, by his yearslong struggle against the totalitarian regime, by his courage to become the leader of Czechoslovakia at the time when the Czechs and Slovaks decided to do away with communism, the man who has been democratically elected President by Czech Parliament?

Or is it the second man, the one who has risen ito a position of influence perhaps as the result of a decision, made by the shareholders of CET 21, a Prague-based private company, or maybe as the result of CME, a Bermuda-based private company?

This is a difficult situation, is it not. How has it come to pass?

When, four years ago, early in 1993, the Council for Radio and Television Broadcasting chose the CET 21 group out of twenty different applicants in order to give it the first Czechoslovak nationwide broadcasting licence, there were several reasons for this. The CET 21 Project, i.e. a project of a Central Europeal Television for the Twenty First Century, promised to fulfil a number of information, cultural, educational and other aims. The CET 21 Project also guaranteed that the funding for these aims would be provided by enlightened financiers from a multinational company, which now calls itself Central European Media Enterprises.

Anyone can make promises. But this particular promise was guaranted by the names of honourable men: sociologists Josef Alan and Fedor Gal, film directors Peter Krsak and Vlastimil Venclik, psychologist Peter Huncik. The journalist Vladimir Zelezny, who assisted the above-mentioned intellectuals, was also regarded as a reputable person.

When the Council for Radio and TV broadcasting awarded the licence to the CET 21 group, this provoked a controversy. Why was the licence given to these people and not to anyone else? How much more knowledgeable about commercial television were they than the other applicants, since they all lived in a country where no commercial TV existed? At the time, I wrote many articles, defending these honourable men. I did not do so because I thought that they were especially qualified to create a television station for the twenty first century. I knew, however, that they would at least try to implement their project.

I cannot say today that some people did not suspect what the end-result of the process in a country with imperfect laws would be. It was highly likely that the new commercial TV station would turn into a money-making machine and that all the pledges of high quality programming would be forgotten.

One particular detail has stuck in my memory. The financier Ondrej Jonas tried to offer Vladimir Zelezny - who happened to be speaking on behalf of all the other CET 21 members at a Prague news conference (I feel he has never allowed the other members of CET 21 to put a word in edgeways) - one and then two billion crowns for the TV licence. Zelezny refused his offer.

It is obvious that even Jonas grossly underestimated the value of the TV licence. At the time, the Czech state, through the actions of the Council for Radio and TV Broadcasting, gave a handful of people a mountain of gold, along with the shovels to make it easier for them to tidy up the gold into their own cellars.

The broadcasting licence should have been sold to the highest bidder, otherwise the awarding of the licence cannot be regarded as serious, said Jonas. He was right. The project has been left by the wayside. The only thing that [Nova TV] has been interested is money. Everything else has been turned into words, by means of which Vladimir Zelezny massages his Nova TV viewers every Saturday.

Zelezny is very good at it. I can imagine that if he decided to presuade his viewers to pour iron nails into pots on their stoves and boil them in hot water, the nails would turn into spaghetti. But the moment his programme ASK THE DIRECTOR ended, the clatter of iron would start resounding from hundreds of thousands of Czech kitchens.

Zelezny knows how to speak nonsense convincingly. He also knows how to do something much worse: he peddles half-truths. Half-truths are much more effective than lies.

Czech newspapers, even the most influential ones, have called on Zelezny to stand down. That would undoubtedly be the most sensible thing to do. I myself would be satisfied if Zelezny at least fell silent, to begin with. For one thing, every time he opens his mouth I remember with what vehemence he defended a totally different television station four years ago.

For another, I do not like watching people who are getting into trouble. They tend to make mistakes - and Zelezny is making more and more mistakes these days.

I am afraid however, that Zelezny will not do what even the most widely read Czech newspaper demands of him. Nor will he do what I want of him.

The only thing I can do is too switch him off. There is a certain hope in that. If enough people do this, the viewing figures of ASK THE DIRECTOR will go down, advertising will not sell during its transmission and Zelezny will have to replace it with something else.

Perhaps with the Taboo programme, in which Nova TV interviews sadomasochists and sexual deviants.