Ước mong một
ngày nào đó tôi có thể viết trên một tờ báo quốc tế nào đó những câu chuyện đẹp
đẽ về Việt Nam... chứ không phải như thế này.
This is my
newly-published article on the Asia Sentinel. Usually it is very good of a
Vietnamese journalist to find his/her article published on an international
newspaper or journal. I feel a little sad, though, because this article of mine
is about "the Vietnamese style of media control", which leads to the
gloomy media picture of contemporary Vietnam.
If only
someday I could write for some international media agencies good stories about
another Vietnam, a beautiful Vietnam where democracy and liberty were truly
realized. If only that day came... then I would be really happy.
* * *
FREEDOM OF THE PRESS, VIETNAM STYLE
It's a dangerous
business being a journalist in Vietnam, to be sure
Every week in
Hanoi the Central Propaganda Commission of the Vietnamese Communist Party, and
in Ho Chi Minh City the commission's southern regional office, convene
"guidance meetings" with the managing editors of the country's
important national newspapers.
Not
incidentally, the editors are all party members. Officials of the Ministry of
Information and the Ministry of Public Security are also present. Similar
meetings take place in every province, a process emblematic of just how
complete the control of the press is in Vietnam. At these meetings, someone
from the Propaganda Commission rates each paper's performance during the
previous week – commending those who have toed the line, reprimanding and
sometimes punishing those who have strayed.
In good cop/bad
cop fashion, the party's overseers mix counseling and persuasion with threats
and a bit of repression. Although there's no legal basis for it, the party
regards the media as "propaganda forces" subject to its guidance and
instruction. Probably the party itself recognizes the absurdity of this
subjugation, which tramples on legal and journalistic principles.
On the one
hand the Propaganda Department instructs the "comrade editors and
publishers" to make sure that the staff back in the office is "fully oriented,"
while on the other hand it insists that every one of them keeps the party's
instructions strictly confidential.
The existence
and content of these weekly meetings sometimes leaks out into the blogosphere,
the online forums beyond the reach of the Propaganda Department. On March 29,
2011, it seems, editors were instructed not to report that movie actress Hong
Anh had declared her independent candidacy for a National Assembly seat, not to
refer as "Doctor Vu" to dissident activist Cu Huy Ha Vu, then facing
trial on charges of propagandizing against the state," to bury reports of
that nine foreign tourists died when a Halong Bay tour boat capsized and to
eschew investigation of the nation's decision to build a nuclear power plant.
Vu's trial
was the object of particularly heavy-handed guidance. Journalists covering it
for major newspapers received unsigned notices on plain paper enjoining them to
praise the impartiality of the judges and the correctness of the sentence, and
to refrain from commentary or in-depth analysis.
Telephone
calls and oral instructions expedite guidance to editors on sensitive subjects.
Don't report this incident, they're told; don't highlight that case, restrict
coverage of these topics. Because no tangible evidence remains that the
guidance was transmitted, when it's alleged that the press was gagged on such
and such a story, the officials of the Ministry of Information can reply with
straight faces that Vietnam is being slandered by "hostile forces."
In a
clandestine recording circulated soon after a guidance meeting in December
2012, Propaganda Department Vice Director Nguyen The Ky is heard rebuking the
press for reporting that Chinese vessels had cut the cables of seismic gear
being towed by a Vietnamese exploration ship. It doesn't matter that the
reports cite sources in the state oil company and Foreign Ministry. "You
must clarify that the Chinese vessels just unintentionally caused the cables to
be broken," Ky said; "it was not an act of deliberate sabotage
against us."
The recording
was immediately posted on dissident blogs and then on the Vietnamese language
service of the BBC. Invited to comment, Ky told the BBC that he was only
exchanging professional opinions with the editors.
Clearly the
Propaganda Department was mightily embarrassed by the leak. It's rumored that
at the guidance meeting the following week, editors were subjected to a body
search for hidden recording devices.
The press
card system is a sophisticated method of controlling reporters. No card, no access.
Without a press card, reporters can interview ordinary people, but can't hope
to meet high-ranking officials, visit contacts at public offices or cover
official workshops or conferences.
The system
has been in operation for a long time. In 2007 it was legalized by government
circular. The circular requires the issuing official to certify, inter alia,
that a would-be journalist has been properly recommended by the paper, magazine
or broadcaster that wishes to employ him, by the local Department of Information
and the local branch of the Vietnam Journalists Association, and "has not
been rebuked in the previous 12 months."
The press
card system illustrates the blurry boundary between Vietnam's state sector, its
ruling party and civil society. Ostensibly the press is an institution of civil
society, and newspapers, magazines and broadcasters are not official agencies.
Legally
speaking, in view of the Vietnamese Constitution's guarantee in Article 69 of
"freedom of opinion and speech, freedom of the press, [and] the right to
be informed", the state has no standing to regulate who is or is not a
journalist, unless, of course, that promise is trumped by the State's
obligation in Article 33 to "ban all activity in the field of . . .
culture that is detrimental to national interests. . . ."
In any event,
the Propaganda Department arrogates to itself that right, prescribing that
Vietnam's media are the "voice of party organizations, State bodies and
social organizations." Vietnam's Law on the Media further requires
reporters to "propagandize, propagate the doctrine and policies of the
party, the laws of the State, and national and world cultural, scientific and
technical achievements in accordance with the guiding principles and aims of
media organizations."
The result is
that a great many journalists are subject to the direction of apparatchiks
whose capacity for communication is decidedly inferior to theirs.
Without a
press card, one is not recognized as a journalist and can be barred with no
explanation at all from events at the whim of the organizing body, the police
or civil authorities.
Vietnam's
authorities deliberately manipulate this situation. They seek to pit
"right side" (press card-bearing) reporters against "left
side" (free) reporters, including bloggers. They don't always succeed. The
party's propaganda and security apparatus know better than anyone the power of
secrecy. Openness and transparency are their enemy. Yet the controllers of
information now face a new danger: card-carrying journalists are leaking
suppressed stories to their colleagues in the blogosphere.
On October 30
last year, Huyen Trang was detained and interrogated at a Ho Chi Minh City
police station. When she explained that she was a reporter for the Catholic
Church-affiliated Redemptorist News Service, police officers shouted at her
"Who recognized you? Where is your press card? You are all a band of
reactionary parasites!"
Trang's
experience is unexceptional. Free journalists are often harassed or even
assaulted by the police or by ruffians. Their denunciations and complaints are
ignored because they are not "journalists performing duties" in the
eyes of the authorities. Dieu Cay and Ta Phong Tan are serving long prison
terms chiefly because they organized a "Club of Free Journalists."
Truong Duy
Nhat quit his career as an official journalist to become a blogger. He was
arrested on May 26 on a charge of "abusing democratic freedoms to infringe
upon the interests of the State, the legitimate rights and interests of
organizations and/or citizens" under Article 258 of the Penal Code.
Hearing Nhat
was in custody, the mainstream journalist Duc Hien commented on his Facebook
page that "the thing is, a journalist must be able to access information.
If he or she lacks the ability or opportunity to access information, his or her
viewpoint will be only insults or libels or parroting others' opinions. . .
."
Hien's
arrogant comment did not sit well with dissident bloggers, yet it must be
conceded that he was right from the viewpoint of the authorities. Differential
access to information creates a chasm between journalist and blogger and
between a card-carrying journalist and an independent (free) one.
Vietnam does
not figure among the deadlier countries to be a journalist. The State doesn't
need to kill journalists to control the media because by and large, Vietnam's
press card-carrying journalists are not allowed to do work that is worth being
killed for. Reporters are rarely independent and investigative; there is
nothing close to anti-corruption journalism and therefore the press does not
pose a danger to vested interests.
A writer for
the dissident blog Anh Ba Sam commented recently that "in this beautiful
socialist country of ours, there are only two inner sanctums from which no
secrets emerge. One is our prisons; the other is the party's politburo."
That's absolutely right.
Every matter
that may erode the legitimacy of the regime or threaten the survival of the
party is treated as a state secret or as a "special case." Chief
among these in recent years is Vietnam's relationship with China.
The press
will never find a written explanation of the party's posture vis-a-vis its
Chinese counterpart or a document addressing its management of the media in
this matter. The public can perceive at best that this is a highly sensitive
matter, proven by the occasional punishments meted out to media that stray over
an invisible red line, by the lengths that organizers go to to limit reporters'
access to international academic conferences on the South China Sea territorial
disputes or by stipulations that reportage on anti-China street demonstrations
must "expose the plots of reactionaries to exploit patriotic
sentiment."
The official
media can see the regime's unease more clearly. It's expressed in the countless
cautionary telephone calls to editors, publishers and even ordinary reporters
when a story is breaking. The media are forbidden to relay this anxiety to the
public, no matter how hungry readers are for insights on the deepening crisis
with China.
When the
supply of information fails to meet the demand for it, certain inevitable
consequences follow:
Gossip and
rumor dominate the discourse. Conspiracy theories are widespread, for example
the oft-heard notion that "the party has sold our national territory to
China." Reporters who strive to remain rational and open-minded are
starved for information they can use to rebut such rumors. Indeed, given that
the press is barred from reporting all it knows, given the barrage of
"guidance" by SMS, phone and vague directives, a truly rational
journalist cannot help asking himself or herself: "What is the government
really doing?"
Coverage of
South China Sea disputes becomes a forbidden fruit so appealing that some
newspapers and journalists feel tempted to cross red lines to harvest it,
although they may not have done proper spadework. Sovereignty disputes are an
inherently challenging subject, and the press has few reliable experts and
reference resources.
There's
truth, therefore, in Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Nguyen Phuong Nga's complaint
that "some of the media appear to consider national sovereignty as a hot
topic for building readership and increasing advertising revenues."
Shocking
headlines, unverified anecdotes and misleading "facts" crowd out
quality reportage. Reporters search out sources with a strong bias against
China. The poor quality of mainstream journalism provides the regime plenty of
excuses to maintain its grip on the press, especially with regard to the South
China Sea crisis.
Defenders of
the regime often argue that the answers are perfectly clear to those who really
seek to become informed, e.g., if one is sufficiently concerned about the trend
of Vietnam's relations with China, one must study harder. Put that way, the
regime is under no obligation to be more transparent or informative in its
dealings with the public or the national media.
(Pham Doan Trang is a reporter without
a press card. A longer version of this story first appeared in three parts on
her blog, www.phamdoantrang.com in June 2013.)
