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Asian Center for Democratic Governance >> Freedom of Information for Good Governance
A Report by the Asian Center for Democratic Governance 6 - 8 August 2001 New Delhi, India |
Session II - Freedom of Information: The Media's Role in Ensuring TransparencyOPENING REMARKSYuen Ying Chan Chair I just arrived, less than 12 hours ago, so forgive me if I lapse in my introduction and in my running of the session. First we have Ms. Yvonne T. Chua, training director of the Philippine Centre for Investigative Journalism. For us, who work in Asia, the PCIJ is an inspiration. The PCIJ is responsible, very much responsible, for the downfall of former President Estrada. It is their dogged investigative work that has brought the inside stories of the corruption of the Estrada regime to the public, and that is a prime example of the role of the media in fostering transparency and accountability in government. ADDRESS Yvonne T. Chua I will talk about the role of the Philippines' media as a watchdog. As far as government affairs are concerned, corruption in Philippines is well known all across the world. It has consistently been perceived as among the most corrupt countries in Asia and in the world. Indeed, corruption afflicts all levels of government and even the private sector in the Philippines. It is so pervasive that monetary losses resulting from corruption are estimated to even exceed our foreign debt of more than $40 billion. But the perception of corruption is also partly due to the fact that the public talks about corruption in the country, they do file complaints against erring public officials, and the media does its part in reporting corruption. We have had corruption in our midst for the last 400 years, ever since Spain colonized us. Then, the Spanish government would even sell government positions. And natives would pay their colonial masters in order not to render forced labor. Our brief tutelage under the Americans and our subsequent independence did not lick the problem of corruption; it remains a serious problem. Marcos, as you all know, was legendary for his 20-year authoritarian, as well as kleptocratic, rule. It took a while before Filipinos decided to kick him out of office. More recently, another president, Joseph Estrada, was booted out of office on charges of corruption, and it was good that it was only two years into his presidency, because it is widely believed that had he finished his six-year term, he would have amassed even more wealth than Mr. Marcos. In the Philippines, there is no dearth of anti-corruption laws and there is no dearth of anti-corruption bodies. In fact, governance experts would tell you that the Philippines has among the best anti-corruption laws in the world. We also have several anti-corruption agencies, including the Office of the Ombudsman, which is considered one of the most powerful in the world, and equipped with vast investigative and prosecuting powers. But, as with most laws, enforcement is pretty weak. In the case of anti-corruption bodies, especially the Office of the Ombudsman, complaints of malfeasance by public officials "usually just lie there and die there," as the song goes. As a result of the weak implementation of our anti-corruption laws and the lackluster performance of the anti-corruption agencies, a growing number of Filipinos are turning to the media to air complaints of public misconduct. This is so because on many occasions the government acts when there is media and public attention and pressure. The office of the Ombudsman has time and again acknowledged that it initiated investigation because of media exposés. And often we have found that the fear of media exposure has become a strong deterrent to corruption and abuse. Survey after survey, has shown that the Filipinos regard the Filipino press as a very credible institution, because it has shown courage in reporting abuses even under conditions of extreme censorship and repression. In at least three episodes in Philippine history, the Philippines press is credited with having helped toppled corrupt and abusive government. During the Spanish rule, fair-minded Filipinos in exile in Spain wrote about corruption abuses by the Spanish and colonial administrators, and published them in newspapers that were smuggled into the Philippines. Their writings sparked revolutions against Spain. The Mosquito Press, the alternative press during the Marcos regime, wrote about the ill-gotten wealth of Marcos, as well as human rights abuses during his administration. Estrada has had to face a multimedia phenomenon sweeping not only the Philippines but the world. Reports found their way not only into newspapers, radio, and television, but also on the Internet, especially web sites and e-mail, text messaging, and mobile phones. At one point, there were at least 200 anti-Estrada web sites. What are the conditions that emboldened or encouraged Filipino journalists to report on corruption? First, we have a free press guaranteed by our constitution. There are few limits on freedom of press. Some of these would be restrictions on libel and sedition and, in the case of the broadcast media, the requirement to obtain a franchise to open a radio or television station. There are no state or military censors in the Philippines. Press freedom is vetted only by self-policing bodies formed by associations of newspaper publishers and by owners and managers of radio and television stations. There is, of course, very strong support for a free press. Filipinos have learned from many years of being under a dictator, that we would rather have few or no controls on the press than the opposite. Number two is the belief of Filipinos in the media's role as a watchdog. As in the United States and other democracies, the Filipinos perceive the press as the Fourth Estate. Journalists are trained and conditioned to watch closely the working of the government, and to hold officials accountable for their actions. The public expects no less from the press. They must serve their purpose as its eyes and its ears. Another condition is the wide access to information in the Philippines. We do not have a Freedom of Information Law like Thailand, but our access to information on matters of public concern is written into our Constitution, and we have found this to our advantage. In fact, a survey of eight Southeast Asian countries to be released soon shows that in terms of ease of access to public records, the Philippines ranks number one. We are also fortunate to be able to seek redress, in case our request for information is rebuffed. We have administrative tribunals, and judicial recourse is also open to us. Generally, the Supreme Court has ruled in favor of wider access to information. Increasingly, journalists in the Philippines are asserting their right to know and their right to public records; they cite the law to government officials when they make requests; they have threatened and actually brought law suits against government agencies that refuse or withhold information. Access to information has made it easier for journalists to investigate malfeasance in government. In the case of the PCIJ, many of its reports on corruption and other issues would not have been possible, or would not have been as thorough, if we did not enjoy this right. The documents, for example, that we used in investigating the former president range from land records to statements of assets that he filed as mayor, senator, vice-president, and even as president, to building plans of his houses, and even government permits and licenses that his companies had attained. Contrary to what some people thought or believed, documents did not just fall into our laps. They were not fed to us by the detractors of our former president. We took no shortcuts in getting the public records. Like any citizen, we wrote to the agencies, we lined up at the agencies, and we waited patiently for the release of the information. A fourth condition is the growing tradition of investigative reporting in the Philippines. Increasingly, more Filipino journalists are not confining themselves to simply reporting on complaints or official investigations on corruption. They have begun to initiate, on their own, investigations on unreported and under-reported issues, and even into cases that law enforcers have investigated and declared as closed. Investigative reporting requires in-depth and long-term research and reporting. It requires the use of a combination of techniques, such as public and private records, extensive interviewing, and, occasionally, crime-solving techniques. Increasingly, we have realized the need to pursue the electronic trail, because many public records in the Philippines are being shifted to electronic form. At the PCIJ, we try to keep the following things in mind when investigating corruption, because we believe that investigative journalism can help break the cycle of corruption and abuse. When we work on stories of corruption, it is important for us to reveal the flaws in the government machinery, expose who is responsible, and try to explain what can be done. It is our goal to put the issue of reforms on the new agenda. We do not confine ourselves to revealing what is wrong with government procedures. We strive to name individuals and institutions that are responsible for corrupt practices, in the hope of shaming them out of office. On many occasions, we have featured the work of reform-minded individuals and groups in the hope of inspiring others to follow their footsteps. And we have tried to show citizens, what can be done about corruption, in the hope of erasing the feeling of hopelessness that most people feel. We are happy to say that investigative reporting or solid reporting on corruption has had an impact. The biggest impact we have seen just early this year was that Estrada became the first leader in Asia to be impeached. We are happy to report that the PCIJ reports partly formed the basis for the articles of impeachment. Essentially, we exposed to the public Estrada's unexplained wealth, his failure to disclose assets and other information according to the Constitution, and his failure to divest himself properly of his financial and business interests. Aside from triggering personal changes, we have found that investigative or solid reporting on corruption can achieve other things. It can reopen investigations that have officially been closed. It can block the corrupt from getting elected. Our story, for example, of how the former Speaker of the House had gotten kickbacks from the sale of government land stopped him from being elected president in 1998. Unfortunately, people have a very short memory, and he has been elected by his province as a Congressman and is now, again, the Speaker of the House. It enriches public debate and raises public awareness on the issue of corruption. We have found that competition is healthy and augurs well for reporting on corruption. There is plurality of media ownership in the Philippines, and the desire to beat the competition has motivated journalists to seek out high impact stories, including those on corruption. Fortunately for both journalists and sources, stories do have alternative outlets. One media outfit may refuse to run a story on corruption, but the source or the journalist is always comforted by the fact that another media outfit would take up that story. Lastly, in the Philippines, journalists can rely on a number of support structures. Training to raise the level of reporting and skills of journalists is widely available. This includes training on how to investigate corruption. Training is complemented by the publication of manuals intended for journalists, and these have focused on how to cover government well, as well as how to deal with the bureaucratic maze that both citizens and media have to face. There is also recognition of the best journalistic practices. Annually, there is an award for investigative journalism at the national and local levels. Most of the awards have gone to journalists who have reported on corruption. And when press freedom is under threat, journalists in the Philippines can always turn to press associations at the local, national, and even international level. But there are problems that stare the media in the face, especially when they report on corruption. A lot of the powers of the national government have been devolved to local government units, and, in a way, corruption has also been devolved; this has made it very difficult for the media to monitor corrupt practices. The media has still to struggle with a government bureaucracy that has yet to make provision of public information a regular function. Fortunately, we have media and civil society organizations that are educating both citizens and the media on the right to information. Then, of course, the media has its own set of problems. It has to deal with the enemy within: Many national dailies and radio and television stations are owned by big business houses. Some of them have gotten contracts from the government, and they own a whole range of interests, which often affects the way they report. During the Estrada administration, a number of publishers were very close to the former president, some with government contracts. For some time, they refused to run reports critical of Estrada. This is still the case with some publishers. We have also seen a lack of support for in-depth reporting in some newsrooms. Owners do not exactly invest the time, the money, and the resources into in-depth reporting. Intense competition among the media, and the need to sell newspapers and radio and television programs, has resulted in sensationalism, as well as reckless reporting; this does not do the industry much good. There are also pressures that the media has to contend with, such as threats of lawsuits, libels, harassment of sources, withdrawal of advertising from sources hit by critical reports, and even violence: On several occasions, provincial journalists who have exposed corruption have been killed in the line duty. Ethics is also a real problem among journalists. Corruption in the media is rampant. A survey done by the PCIJ in 1998 showed that of 100 beat reporters, 71 had actually been offered bribes by the sources. Of those, 29 took the money. We also still have to address the issue of professional standards. It is a challenge to many media organizations to raise the level of reporting, to move it away from a "he said, she said" type of reporting. The problems that we face, in terms of reporting on corruption, are indeed, plenty, but the recent success of the Filipino media in bringing down yet another corrupt leader has served to inspire us to work harder, to work more vigorously, to address these problems.Thank you. Roland Rich Endnotes I must confess to a morbid fascination with Hollywood vampires. There is something quintessentially evil about them. They are attractive yet lethal, they live off others' blood, they sleep in their coffins during the day and menace the world at night. So I was particularly struck by a poster prepared by Cambodia's Centre for Social Development1 in its anti-corruption work. The poster depicted corruption as a vampire sucking the blood out of Cambodia. Vampires cannot tolerate the sun's rays, and the poster showed the vampire being defeated by the light cast by a free media. At the time I discovered this poster, the Phnom Penh Post was publishing a major, three-part series on corruption in Cambodia.2 The articles had quite an impact on the English-reading public and invigorated the donor community to get more involved in anti-corruption projects. The National Assembly began debate on anti-corruption legislation, including the establishment of an Audit Office. So the light did shine and did illuminate the problem, but it did not slay the vampire as the poster had predicted. Corruption in Cambodia persists unabated. There is great truth in this simple poster. The media's reporting can create sufficient transparency in governance to combat corruption effectively. At the same time, the simplification of the poster hides a more sobering truth. The light of the media is in itself not enough to defeat corruption. It is a necessary but not a sufficient condition for good governance. In this paper, I wish to explore the relationship between media and transparency by looking at some of the countries of Southeast Asia. This was the subject of a book I co-edited in 2000.3 But I believe the examples cited will raise issues of general application. I begin with some positive and negative examples of the role of the media in ensuring transparency. I will then look at some of the difficulties faced by the media in its role of illuminating the problems of society, and in particular its role of bringing greater transparency into government decisions and combating corruption. The conclusion is that transparency can only be achieved if the authorities are committed to achieving it, and put in place the necessary mechanisms. That, in turn, requires public pressure in a democratic process. The Philippine Centre for Investigative Journalism4 (PCIJ) is an independent, non-profit media agency that specializes in investigative reporting. It was founded in 1989 by nine Filipino journalists who realized, from their years on the beat and at the news desk, the need for newspapers and broadcast agencies to go beyond day-to-day reportage. It is led by Sheila Coronel and has received many awards for the excellence of its reporting. The PCIJ received worldwide acclaim last year for its courageous exposé of then-President Joseph Estrada's property holdings. While it was widely assumed that the president was corrupt, the Philippine system had not been able to prove it, nor did the system have the political willpower to pursue the matter. That is when the PCIJ stepped in and conducted an exhaustive investigation into Estrada's property holdings. Using the normal tools of journalism-searching records, interviewing neighbors, investigating building contractors, following up leaks-the PCIJ established that Estrada had beneficial ownership of 17 pieces of real estate estimated to be worth $US40 million. The PCIJ syndicated stories had considerable impact, as they were published at the same time as one of the president's crony's accusations that the Estrada was receiving huge payoffs from illegal gambling. The accusations had come full circle, in that the story explained where the money came from and what it was spent on. The establishment press picked up the ball and ran with it. This is the stuff of investigative journalism legend in the great Watergate tradition. For most journalists, however, the battle is not fought at this level. Amnat Jongyoting, editor of the Northern Daily in Chiang Mai in northern Thailand, has paid the price for reporting on the corrupt activities of the local political kingpin. He has been shot, shunned, and must resist being shut down.5 The price Mr. Amnat must pay for reporting what he believes is the truth has been to lose all advertisers, lose 90 percent of his circulation, and nearly lose his life. The positive side of this story is that Mr. Amnat has not given up. He is living proof that transparency is not something that only belongs to the big city elite. It can survive in local communities as well. Hopefully, the New York Times coverage of his case will be an additional protective factor. The system of media control utilized by Suharto during his New Order government stands as a case study of how to suppress the process of transparency. By means of licensing publications, censoring of articles, and intimidating journalists, Suharto was able to portray Indonesia internally as a country on a path of progress without any internal opposition.6 The tragedy of this approach was that much of the progress was real and praiseworthy, but it was ultimately unsustainable because there was no way to deal with the problems that festered and remained unreported. Had the issues of banking sector viability, secessionist struggles, and official corruption been the subject of media reporting, it might have been possible to correct some of the problems before they caused the New Order to topple. One attempt to report on the Suharto family wealth and corruption by foreign media did not have the desired impact. When the Sydney Morning Herald published articles detailing Suharto family wealth,7 Suharto, through his control of the local media, succeeded in turning the issue into a crisis in the bilateral relationship between Australia and Indonesia. Most governments of Southeast Asia try one way or another to control the media. The authoritarian states of the region use blunt methods of censorship and propaganda. Myanmar makes mere possession of unlicensed faxes or modems a serious criminal offense.8 Vietnam and Laos think of information flow unselfconsciously in propaganda terms.9 Malaysia uses a subtler means of control through licensing arrangements, ownership of the media, and use of the criminal law against political opponents. Only a matter of weeks ago, the Malaysia Chinese Association, an ally of Dr. Mahathir's UMNO, decided to buy Nanyang Press Holdings which publishes in Chinese characters. MCA called this "a strategic political investment" when clearly it is a means of controlling what had previously been a relatively free publication. The media outlet prepared to criticize the decision directly was Malaysiakini.com, an Internet publication.10 In Singapore, the government has maintained certain instruments of control in the criminal and press laws, but James Gomez points out that the main form of control is exercised through self-censorship.11 This self-denial forms part of a popular national consensus, whereby the citizenry have accepted a curtailment of the exercise of their political rights in return for orderly, competent, and paternalistic government. The question that Singaporeans should be asking is whether this bargain is sustainable, in that governments tend not to stay competent and effective if they are not subject to the criticism that transparency through media freedom brings. The media faces many difficulties in its vocation to shine a light on society. This paper will briefly touch on three: ownership, profitability, and journalistic ethics. The tradition of independent yet publicly funded electronic media is limited to a few industrialized countries. In most countries, the distinction is between private and government media, with the latter usually acting as a means of disseminating the government line. This leaves the private media with the task of providing critical oversight of government policies and actions. There are some grand examples of newspapers owned by the journalists themselves, such as Le Monde in Paris. For the most part, however, newspaper, television, and radio stations are privately owned. The most obvious problems occur when the ownership is in the hands of political actors, such as political parties or politically aligned magnates. Malaysia12 and Cambodia13 are examples where political parties see it as part of their function to run print and electronic media. Thailand's14 first non-government TV station was established less than ten years ago and the remaining stations are still in the hands of government entities like the army. A startling example of using media ownership to stifle criticism occurred in the Philippines in 1999. The Manila press is loud, brash, and crowded. There are over a dozen dailies and they are full of news, gossip, and opinion bewilderingly intertwined. Wealthy Philippine magnates do not see their empires as complete unless they have a major daily in their stable. The competition for readers is cutthroat and tends to put a premium on sensational news and virulent criticism. The Manila Times was particularly active in criticizing President Estrada. Estrada's solution was simple: He had his friend Mark Jimenez buy the newspaper.15 The criticism stopped and other owners also got the message. It took the independent PCIJ to kick-start the corruption investigation. The problem of media ownership also exists in Australia. Ownership of the Australian media is one of the most highly concentrated in the world. In 1903, there were 21 capital city daily newspapers owned by 17 independent owners. By 1960, there were 14 daily newspapers and 7 owners. By 1999, there were 12 daily newspapers in Australia, 10 of which were owned by two organizations, Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation and Kerry Packer John Fairfax Holdings. Only the West Australian and the Canberra Times are independently owned.16 Two men, therefore, have a disproportionate editorial hold on Australia's opinion-leading media. The interests of the owner may not coincide with the needs for a vigorous free media. Rupert Murdoch's interest in the Chinese market led to his pulling the BBC channel off his Star network, lest it cause offense to the Chinese leadership.17 The issue of ownership is linked to that of profitability. Investigative journalism is an expensive business. Researchers might be in the field for weeks and months with no publishable result for their work. In some countries, the law of libel can be a serious disincentive to publishing stories critical of individuals. In some jurisdictions in Australia, truth of the allegation is not a complete defense, but must also be accompanied by a "public benefit" test.18 In their search for readership and profitability many media groups have resorted to tabloid journalism. Political leaders would not be displeased with a situation where readers are fed a diet of sex, sport, and sensationalism. They far prefer this sort of journalism than that dealing with critical analysis of government policy and investigation of government shortcomings. The solution to the problem of profitability lies with an educated readership demanding the sort of investigative journalism a country needs. It is pleasing to see that the PCIJ is able to generate sufficient funds to maintain itself from syndicating its product. This may be a model for other countries in the region to contemplate. A model that seems, sadly, to be more common has been described as "envelopmental journalism,"19 which is the systematic bribing of journalists to print favorable stories, or even to publish the sponsor's copy under the journalist's name. The low salaries paid to journalists in the region leaves many journalists in countries like Indonesia, Thailand, and the Philippines with little option but to accept the envelopes. Bribery can work both ways, and there was an infamous case in Australia where a former media magnate (the now-disgraced Alan Bond) bribed a former Premier of Queensland (the now-disgraced Joh Bjelke-Petersen) by an ingenious means. A program on one of Bond's TV stations criticized the premier, who sued for defamation. Against all legal advice, Bond settled out of court for $400,000 in what the Australian Broadcasting Tribunal considered to be a payment in the nature of a bribe.20 This brings us to the vexed issue of ethics.21 It is a broad subject, but this paper will touch on only two aspects: the myth of objectivity and the myth of developmental journalism in the service of one's country. All journalists have values and biases; some are singular and individualistic while others are deeply ingrained among whole classes of journalists. A western journalist reporting on a developing country will apply preconceived notions and values. The tone of the reporting might thus be superior and critical or engaged and idealized. The best journalists allow the reader an insight into the writer's mind. What we must insist on from journalism is not some form of extraterrestrial objectivity, but rather fairness and disinterested impartiality in relation to the subject matter.22 The other myth is developmental journalism, how governments have tried to harness the media in the name of nation-building and economic development. It is best summarized in a statement by former Indonesian Information Minister Harmoko, speaking at an ASEAN media conference in 1990: The conference recognizes the strategic importance of the press and its vital role in the process of national development. Considering the interdependence of ASEAN nations the conference encourages the ASEAN press to promote the paramount goal, including the preservation of political stability, rapid economic growth, social justice, greater regional cohesion, and the development of human resources to their full potential.23 Whatever may have been the original goals of developmental journalism, in practice it simply served to muzzle the press from reporting news critical of the authorities, supposedly on the grounds of averting riots, or so as not to adversely affect the nation's image. It completely distorted the role of the media as a factor for transparency. It co-opted the media as another arm of government policy, thus neutralizing the oversight role the media should play. That is not to say that the media should not be concerned with development. It should, but not at the behest of the government. The media can play a valuable role in popularizing new ideas and processes of value to development, news stories of interest to the public. This does not lessen the media's other role of keeping a watch on the authorities and bringing to light criticism of government policies and actions. Chris Patten puts the issue succinctly: In an open society there is a proper and desirable tension between public officials (especially those who are elected) and the media. The absence of such a tension is the hallmark of societies that are neither open nor free.24 In conclusion, I wish to return to my previous comment that a free media is a necessary but a clearly insufficient condition for a functioning democracy. The concept of a free media is perhaps an ideal, as it would imply no political influence from ownership, an enlightened readership that sustains its profitability without recourse to tabloidization, a government accepting of the media's watchdog role, and journalists with the competence and skills to make the most use of it. No national situation fits this ideal. It is in the interests of the nation, however, that society works toward the ideal. Even the freest media will be ineffective unless there are competent institutions to deal with the allegations asserted by the media. The Jenkins exposure of Suharto family corruption soiled the president's reputation abroad, but led to no investigation or prosecution in Indonesia until he fell from power a decade later. The PCIJ's investigation of Estrada's corruption would not have had any concrete effect without the Congress deciding to launch impeachment proceedings based in part on its findings. So the state must not only allow press freedom, but must also provide a range of institutions to deal with the issues involved. Sometimes the role of these institutions, such as prosecutors, courts, auditors, ombudsmen, anti-corruption commissions, and parliamentary committees, is to test the truth of the allegations. Sometimes the role of the press is to highlight the findings of these institutions. There is a deeply symbiotic relationship between the regulatory branch of government and the media. It is inconceivable that a vigorous free press and competent independent oversight bodies could exist in any system other than a democracy. Building democracy has become an indispensable means of achieving the other goals of good governance. Ultimately, it must be the voice of the people that is heard. Without a free media in a democratic system with strong institutions of accountability, we will not be able to slay the vampire of corruption. Gautam Adhikari Without having prepared for this eventuality of having to step in to speak, I will rely entirely on my experiences as a journalist, over a long period of time, and seek the support of some of the eminent persons from the media who are present out here-Ajit Bhattacharji, who has edited major newspapers and is currently the director of the Press Institute of India; Raminder Singh, who has been Senior Editor with the Times of India group of newspapers; and Rajiv Desai, an eminent columnist-to bolster my presentation with input. I will contribute a quick overview of certain trends in the Indian press. The Indian press is actually very old. It began somewhere in the latter half of the 18th century, when the first Indian newspaper, Hickey's Gazette, came out in Calcutta. Most of these institutions began under British rule, and Hickey's Gazette was, as the name implies, owned by a Mr. William Hickey. But, almost simultaneously, there was a tendency on part of Indians, not yet a nationalistic tendency, to create Indian-owned newspapers. Over the next 200 years, there was a growth in the British-owned press and a parallel growth in the Indian-owned press. And the two, although initially not in conflict, gradually diverged in their messages. With the growth of the nationalist movement in the late 19th century, the Indian-owned press gradually began to take a very anti-colonial line; as a result of this, or perhaps because of this, the British-owned press became more supportive and more defensive of the British colonial system. Papers such as the Times of India (which I have worked with for a long time), The Statesman, and The Pioneer were British-owned, while on the other side were the Indian-owned papers like The Hindu, The Amrita Bazar Patrika of Calcutta, and a number of Indian-language newspapers. As a result of independence in 1947, the tone and approach of the Indian-owned press became that of the independent press, while in a way, the British-owned media (they continued to be owned by the British for a while longer), including the Times of India and The Statesman, took up positions contrary to their past, based on the new reality of an independent India. As a result, there was a strange consensus almost in Indian journalism-over a large area, not just foreign policy-often called the Nehruvian consensus, after the late Prime Minister of India, Jawaharlal Nehru. There was general consensus over development, foreign policy, social attitudes, and how India should grow up into an independent democracy, and this went on almost right through the 1950s and even 1960s. There were differences, criticism over the politics, and as consensus politics started breaking down in the 1960s and coalitional politics came into being, more and more divergences came up in political reporting and commentary. However, overall there were large areas where the consensus still prevailed. I think this ended in 1975 when, because of a court judgment related to campaign malpractices, then-Prime Minister Mrs. Indira Gandhi was unseated when the Allahabad High Court ruled her election null and void. She stepped in by using a certain obscure provision of the Constitution and introduced a state of internal emergency, which lasted 19 months, from June of 1975. That was a period when Indian democracy in general was in suspension. And that was a period, I think, which can be taken as the breaking point between the attitude of the media toward Indian development in general and the attitudes of the "ruling" establishment, for want of a better term. I do remember the Indian Express was coming out with blank spaces because there was censorship going on at that time. There would be whole editorial sections which would have a white, blank, space as a means of protest. The Times of India carried a cryptic, classified ad in its deaths column, saying "RIP, Indian Democracy" and still nobody knows who put it in. But there were these subtle and sometimes not-too-subtle methods which came up against the censorship laws prevailing at that time. By pushing the Indian media right back against the wall, it freed the media up. My assumption is that India does not have an option to be anything but a democracy; it is the only way you can keep this country running. However, that is a separate issue. What happened was that given those conditions, the press suddenly discovered that it had a role that went beyond holding up the consensus: not to be a lapdog, but a watchdog. This was the big change that came about in an indirect way during the period of national Emergency that took place between 1975 and 1977. In the 1977 general elections, Mrs. Gandhi and the Congress party were roundly beaten, and that was the time when new magazines started coming out and new journalists started surfacing, some of whom became stars (like Mr. Arun Shourie, who is a minister in the current government, but in those days was the executive editor of the Indian Express) and suddenly, we had exposés. It was really the birth point of investigative journalism in India. One of the first successes was against a Chief Minister of the state of Maharashtra, Abdul Rehman Antulay, at a time when it was not common for newspapers to attack people in positions of power in as direct a manner as the newspapers started attacking this person for obvious, blatant cases of corruption, especially in the handling of cement purchases. And it actually led to the resignation of Mr. Antulay; that was the first time that had happened in Indian history. Now, whether that was a good thing or not, we don't know. After all, it was a no-confidence motion against him that unseated him, but it was due to the pressure of the press. This does raise the problem in a milder and a different form of "people power" that Roland Rich talked about, which happened in the Philippines quite recently. Was it entirely through institutional and democratic means that the person was unseated, or was it by popular opinion working, in a way, outside the Parliamentary system? This is a question that we can talk about. But that was a turning point in India and journalism. India Today and Sunday magazines began to make exposés their selling points. There was an enormous number of cases that were highlighted. When popular opinion was built up through the press by these exposés, governments seen as corrupt for one reason or the other were thrown out in the next elections. This certainly happened in the case of the Rajiv Gandhi administration, which enjoyed enormous popularity between 1984 and 1989, with the largest number of seats of any party in the Indian Parliament (413 out of 543). However, the surfacing of the so-called Bofors scandal, an arms-buying scandal exposed by the Indian media, had a major role to play in the defeat of the Congress Party in the 1989 elections. There were many other such cases. There was the unseating of Kalpanath Rai, a minister in the Narasimha Rao government in the 1990s, which came about as a result of the exposing of the so-called sugar scandal. Mr. Narasimha Rao's government suffered in reputation in the mid-1990s because of a series of investigative pieces done by various newspapers, including the Times of India, in which Raminder and I were colleagues at that time. This led to a fraying of the image of Narasimha Rao-which had been extremely positive to start with because he was a liberalizing face-with his Finance Minister, Manmohan Singh, bringing about the age of transparency and openness in the Indian system. However, this reputation was turned around by the media. Finally, I would like to make a few very quick observations in the light of what I have said so far. One is that, it is one thing exposing a piece of corruption, going after a political leader who might or might not be unseated in the elections, but is quite another to have the corruption investigated and the person being made to pay under the judicial system of this country. Many of those people, against whom corruption stories came out, are still running around free. They have never really had to pay, except in political terms. That is a payment, there is no doubt about it. (I do not think Mr. Narasimha Rao today can become prime minister of India.) And there were some convictions as well. But, ultimately, most of them are out free, and some of them get re-elected. For example, Miss Jayalalitha, the fabled Chief Minister of the state of Tamil Nadu against whom there are numerous corruption charges, has actually received a conviction. Under the Constitution of India, one cannot be elected, or at least cannot run for elections for six years from the date of the conviction. However, she ran indirectly. Her party ran for the elections and they had a sweeping victory in the last state elections in Tamil Nadu, and because of another twist in the Constitution, whereby you can become chief minister (or prime minister for that matter) without getting elected for six months, she is today the chief minister of Tamil Nadu again. So, this, in a way, is a problem to be looked at. What is the follow up? What are the defects in the system, that allow this kind of thing? The second point is of course related to what Roland called envelopmental journalism. That exists in every country in the world, I guess, but there is not enough examination by the media of corruption within its own ranks. There is a Press Council of India, which was brought about by the Press Council Act in 1965. Frankly, though, that has no teeth; it cannot force a newspaper to publish anything. But on corruption charges, it is necessary for the media-and particularly in financial journalism, because there are all kinds of allegations of insider trading, sheer blackmail of businessmen by journalists, and all kinds of wild stories to be investigated. The third point has to do with ownership, and the relationship between newspaper ownership and governments. I agree with Roland and others that private ownership is the best form. Private ownership should also operate like any private ownership in any field, within a framework of sustainable competition. That does not always happen, as in the case of Australia, where Packer and Murdoch carved an empire into two halves. In India, that competition is still there, but there is a tendency toward monopoly, at least in economic terms, in certain groups of newspapers. The government still holds sway over the economy, and it remains in a position to influence owners who have other business and industrial interests. KEY DISCUSSION POINTS
CONCLUSIONS The chairman indicated that many of the excellent ideas that came out of this session will be taken up by the Asian Center in future, especially the idea of workshops for educating journalists and sessions with judicial officers and bureaucrats.
Roland Rich Endnotes
1. http://www.bigpond.com.kh/users/csd/ 2. July 1999 3. Louise Williams and Roland Rich, Losing Control; Freedom of the Press in Asia, Asia-Pacific Press, 2000 4. http://www.pcij.org/ 5. Seth Mydans, Chiang Mai Journal: A Courageous Thai Editor's Lonely Quest, New York Times, 27 Feb 2001 6. Lukas Luwarso, The Liberation of the Indonesian Press, in News in Distress, PCIJ, 1999. 7. David Jenkins, 10 April 1986, "After Marcos, Now for the Suharto Billions," Sydney Morning Herald 8. Roland Rich, A Few Rays of Light, in Williams and Rich, Losing Control, op cit 9. Peter Mares, Propaganda is not a Dirty Word, in Williams and Rich, Losing Control, op cit 10. Harun Rashid, MCA Gambling its Golden Goose, Malaysiakini.com, 16 July 2001 11. James Gomez, Self Censorship Singapore's Shame, Think Centre, 2000 12. Kean Wong, In the Grip of the Government, in Williams and Rich, Losing Control, op cit 13. Roland Rich, A Few Rays of Light, op cit 14. Kavi Chongkittavorn, A Troubled Path to a Hopeful Future, in Williams and Rich, Losing Control, op cit 15. Sheila Coronel, Investigating the President, http://www.pcij.org/investigate.html 16. Trevor Barr, newmedia.com.au, Allen and Unwin, 2000 17. Anthony Milner and Mary Quilty, Comparing Cultures, Oxford University Press 1996, 198 18. Australian Press Council, Press Law in Australia, http://www.presscouncil.org.au/pcsite/fop/auspres 19. Sheila Coronel, Free as a Mocking Bird, in Williams and Rich, Losing Control, op cit 20. Bond et al. and the Australian Broadcasting Tribunal, Australian Federal Court, 12 September 1989 21. Michael Kunczik, Ethics in Journalism, FES 1999 22. William Glaberson, Fairness, bias and judgment: grappling with the knotty issue of objectivity in journalism - an interview with Professor Jay Rosen, The New York Times, December 12, 1994 23. Australian Broadcasting Corporation, Developmental Journalism, http://www.abc.net.au/ra/media/radio/s257121.htm 24. Chris Patten, East and West, Macmillan 1998, 262 |
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