Author: David Bandurski

Now Executive Director of the China Media Project, leading the project’s research and partnerships, David originally joined the project in Hong Kong in 2004. He is the author of Dragons in Diamond Village (Penguin), a book of reportage about urbanization and social activism in China, and co-editor of Investigative Journalism in China (HKU Press).

National Security Commission: Chinese KGB?

The following post by Xie Wen (谢文), the former head of Yahoo China, was deleted from Sina Weibo sometime before 10:35am today, November 18, 2013. In the post, Xie shares a link to an online piece written by current affairs columnist Ding Dong (丁咚) in which the National Security Commission announced by the recent Party plenum is likened to the Soviet Union’s Committee for State Security, better known as the KGB. Xie Wen currently has more than 180,000 followers on Sina Weibo. [More on deleted posts at the WeiboScope Search, by the Journalism and Media Studies Centre]
The deleted post reads:

Ding Dong: Why was the Soviet KGB so terrifying to people? / The KGB in the Soviet era has suddenly drawn intense the attention of the Chinese people. It’s full name is the “Komitet gosudarstvennoy bezopasnosti”, which translates to “National Security Commission.” Given its notorious reputation in history, it can’t help but throw up all kinds of associations for people. People can’t help but wonder whether they too might soon be living in a nightmare in which secret police are everywhere.

The Chinese-language original follows:

丁咚:苏联“克格勃”为什么很吓人?_共识网 苏联时代的克格勃突然引起中国人的浓厚兴趣。它是俄文三个首字母КГБ的音译,全称国家安全委员会。由于在历史上臭名昭着的名声,不禁让人浮想联翩到时局,人们普遍担忧自己会不会在不久的将来生活于秘密警察遍布的恐怖之中。

xie wen

NOTE: All posts to The Anti-Social List are listed as “permission denied” in the Sina Weibo API, which means they were deleted by Weibo managers, not by users themselves.

What are Xi's plans for China's media?

It’s a new week, and the mood seems to have flip-flopped over the Chinese Communist Party’s reform plans emerging from the Third Plenum. The communique released last week — the menu before the meal — left many observers disappointed. The full text of the “Decision”, however, released last Friday, served up plenty of tasty tidbits of language with which we can now stuff ourselves.
We’ll leave the meatier bits about the economy to others and focus on this cold side-dish of ours — media policy.
There are basically three points in the “Decision” that deal with media or culture. And we also have relevant language in the “explanation” released on Friday by Xinhua News Agency. So we’re looking at four elements here.

xi media
Xi Jinping has outlined his direction for China’s future. What will it mean for media and culture in the country?
Jumping right in, Section 36 of the decision, on “strengthening institutional protections and innovating mechanisms for opposing corruption” (加强反腐败体制机制创新和制度保障), includes a mention of “supervision by public opinion,” or yulun jiandu (舆论监督), among the mechanisms needed to combat corruption, which are referred to collectively as a “system of laws and regulations to fight corruption” (反腐倡廉法规制度体系).

Yulun jiandu, which can be translated “watchdog journalism,” is meant as a sort of state-santioned media supervision of power. It made its first high-level appearance in the CCP political report in 1987, used by Zhao Ziyang, and it has been a regular feature of Party language on supervision ever since. So this is no surprise. But, we could say, better to see it here than not at all.
Moving on, Section 38 of the decision deals with “promoting the innovation of cultural systems and mechanisms” (推进文化体制机制创新). Much of this section is the same boilerplate language we saw in the political report to the 17th Party Congress in 2007 and at the October 2011 plenary meeting on cultural reforms. China’s goals are to create a “socialist strong-culture nation” (社会主义文化强国) and to “enhance national cultural soft power.” As it pursues these goals, China must remain loyal to its socialist and Marxist core values.
These are points President Xi Jinping re-emphasized in his August 19, 2013, speech on ideology.
The “Decision” also pledges a “deepening of cultural reforms,” though the precise meaning of these reforms (deep or not) has always been murky.
The next portion of this section is noteworthy for the questions it leaves open. Here is what it says:

(38) Improving cultural management systems. Under the principles of separating government functions from enterprise management and separating public service units from the government, promoting the transition from [a mode of] government units operating media to government units regulating the media (政府部门办文化/政府部门管文化), and promoting further rationalising of the relationship between Party-government units and the cultural state-run institutions associated with them (推动党政部门与其所属的文化企事业单位进一步理顺关系). [We must/will] create regulatory agencies for the oversight of state-owned cultural assets, carrying out the integrated management of personnel, affairs, assets and [public opinion] guidance (建立党委和政府监管国有文化资产的管理机构,实行管人管事管资产管导向相统一).

The transition here is from “operation” (办) of culture by government units to “regulation” (管) of culture by government units. What exactly does this mean? One could argue that it means a kind of stepping back from culture, less direct meddling in favor of letting cultural enterprises do their thing.
But don’t hold your breath. Control is still the overriding priority here, and the next paragraph of section 38 makes this very clear. This paragraph addresses the issue of “systems and mechanisms” for “adhering to correct public opinion guidance.” This term, public opinion guidance, or yulun daoxiang (舆论导向), remains the cardinal term governing media and cultural practice and their relationship to the Party and public. The idea of “guidance” is that the Party must control the media, and therefore public opinion, in order to maintain social and political stability.
Here is the passage, which will leave in Chinese as well for the convenience of our readers:

[We must/will] perfect systems and mechanisms for adhering to correct guidance of public opinion. We must fully build interactive mechanisms for the work of basic management, content management, industry management and the crackdown on and prevention of criminal conduct online. [We must/will] perfect mechanisms for handling online sudden-breaking incidents, creating an online public opinion work pattern that integrates positive public opinion channeling and management according to rule of law. [We must/will] integrate news media resources, promoting the integrated development of tradition media and new media. [We must/will] promote the institutionalization of news release. [We must/will] strengthen the professional credentials system for news workers, and prioritize the use and management of new media, and regulate the communication order.
健全坚持正确舆论导向的体制机制。健全基础管理、内容管理、行业管理以及网络违法犯罪防范和打击等工作联动机制,健全网络突发事件处置机制,形成正面引导和依法管理相结合的网络舆论工作格局。整合新闻媒体资源,推动传统媒体和新兴媒体融合发展。推动新闻发布制度化。严格新闻工作者职业资格制度,重视新型媒介运用和管理,规范传播秩序。

The possible warning flags here are the crackdown on “criminal conduct online” and the language about strengthening the “professional credentials system for news workers.” In recent months, there has been a sustained crackdown in China on ostensibly “criminal” conduct online. But while this campaign has been rationalized by playing up “rumors” and “false information” as a sort of public health threat the leadership must stamp out in the public interest, it is clear the real priority is to maintain good old-fashioned “public opinion guidance” in the face of the new challenges presented to the Party leadership by social media (think “Big V” crackdown).
As for professionalism in the media, we can’t think of this issue right now without thinking of the recent and ongoing mess of the Chen Yongzhou affair. The big question with this language in the decision, and with the Chen Yongzhou affair too, is whether the leadership has a genuine interest in improving the professional conduct of journalists, or whether this is ultimately about keeping journalists at bay. The tension between the control mandate and the “supervision” mandate has always been there, presenting problems for the notion of watchdog journalism as a tool to fight corruption (Section 36).
The decision’s conclusion (Section 60) gives us our third bit of media-related language, the need to “strengthen propaganda and public opinion guidance in order to create a favorable social environment for the deepening of reforms.” That’s classic control language once again. Not particularly noteworthy.
Finally, the “explanation” released on Friday provides us with the most explicit media-related language emerging from the plenum. It makes clear that the internet and social media are issues of primary concern to the leadership.

Our experiences have shown that there are clear deficiencies in our current management systems in the fact of the rapid development of internet technologies. These principally are: overlapping management bodies (多头管理), overlapping functions (职能交叉), conflict of rights and responsibilities (权责不一) and lack of efficiency (效率不高). At the same time, as the qualities of internet media grow stronger, online media management and industry management cannot keep up with development and change. In particular, as we face the rapid development of Twitter (微客), WeChat and other social media and real-time communication tools that are rapid, influential, and have scale and social mobilization capacity, the question of how to strengthen online legal building and public opinion channeling to ensure order in online communications and national security has already become a conspicuous problem standing before us.

This passage tells us that the leadership is deeply concerned about the challenges it faces to its dominance of public opinion as new technologies bring new possibilities. But of course it is also up to the challenge, determined to “strengthen online legal building and public opinion channeling.”
There is only one other aspect of this passage I find noteworthy. The explanation says that new media have presented challenges to “online information order” and “national security.” One of the biggest stories coming out of this plenum has been the creation of a new National Security Commission. So I just want to put this question out there . . . How might the Party re-tool and redefine its approach to the internet and social media in light of its shifting approach to national security?

CMC buys stake in Caixin Media?

Hong Kong’s Apple Daily reported on Sunday that China Media Capital (CMC), a media investment fund with close ties to the government, has purchased a controlling stake in Caixin Media, the media group run by veteran journalist Hu Shuli (胡舒立). The newspaper said that Caixin was in the process of transferring licensing for its various publications — including Caixin Century and China Reform — to Shanghai from Zhejiang, as CMC’s operations are based in the financial capital.
There have been rumors since September this year that CMC has close ties to “princelings,” the children of influential Communist Party leaders, and that in fact the true controlling hand behind CMC is Li Tong (李彤), the daughter of former politburo standing committee member and ideology chief Li Changchun (李长春).
China Media Capital CEO Li Ruigang (黎瑞刚) has denied ties to influential princelings, including Li Tong. [UPDATE: See also Li’s recent interview with Hong Kong’s Singtao Daily, in which he says he has never had dealings with Li Tong, and says media have confused his China Media Capital with China Cultural Industrial Investment Fund, which Li Tong does oversee.]

Li Changchun daughter
Hong Kong media reports suggest Li Tong, above, the daughter of former propaganda czar Li Changchun, is the real power behind CMC, which is rumored to have bought a controlling state in Caixin Media.
Li Tong, currently CEO of Bank of China International (See also this release), reportedly also runs the China Cultural and Media Investment Fund, a state-backed cultural promotion and investment vehicle that was approved by the China’s National Development and Reform Commission (NDRC) in May 2010. According to a press release on the fund’s website, the formation of the fund was a “significant move in the implementation of the Cultural Industry Promotion Plan promulgated by the State Council.”

The China Media Project has not yet confirmed the purchase of the Caixin stake by CMC. However, in an interview with 21st Century Business Herald published on November 15, Li Ruigang said only that it was “inconvenient to respond” to rumors that CMC had completed the purchase of the Caixin Media stake.
 

Desperate appeal deleted

The following post by Nantong Dan Lihua (南通单利华), a petitioner from the Jiangsu city of Nantong, was deleted from Sina Weibo sometime before 3:04pm today, November 13, 2013. In the post, Dan reports being detained by a stability preservation official from Nantong city at the railway station in Beijing. Dan Lihua currently has with more than 1,300 followers on Sina Weibo. [More on deleted posts at the WeiboScope Search, by the Journalism and Media Studies Centre]
The deleted post, in which Dan tags the official Weibo of the Beijing police, reads:

Right now I’m in the North Plaza at the Beijing South Railway Station and I’ve been intercepted by seven people led by Liu Yi (刘毅), the head of the petitions office in Gangzha District, Nantong City, Jiangsu. I’m sitting on the cold ground. I’ve already dialed 110 to report my case to Beijing [authorities], but the police haven’t come. Please won’t you web users pay attention to my case. Thank you! My phone number is 13615235498.

The Chinese-language original follows:

我现在北京南站北广场被江苏南通港闸区唐闸衔道信访主任刘毅带领7人截访,我坐在冰冷的地上,已向北京110报案20分钟,警方不出警,请网友们关注申援!谢谢!我电话13615235498 @平安北京

dan lihong

NOTE: All posts to The Anti-Social List are listed as “permission denied” in the Sina Weibo API, which means they were deleted by Weibo managers, not by users themselves.

Who watches CCTV Nightly News?

The following post by Kdnet.net (凯迪网络), the official Weibo account of the international Chinese-language web portal KDNET, was deleted from Sina Weibo sometime before 5:04pm today, November 13, 2013. The post reports the results of an online survey on the popular Netease web portal showing that 60 percent of respondents do not watch the official nightly news cast (新闻联播) on China Central Television, and more than 70 percent rate the program as “rather poor.” Kdnet.net currently has with more than 169,000 followers on Sina Weibo. [More on deleted posts at the WeiboScope Search, by the Journalism and Media Studies Centre]

新闻联播1

The deleted post reads:

[A research report on CCTV Nightly News: More than 60 percent of web users don’t watch the program at all, and 70 percent say it’s poor!] Recently, China Central Television said its own satisfaction surveys showed that it’s Nightly News program was on top. Since the 1950s, the CCTV Nightly News has dominated prime time television for tens of millions of Chinese families. But survey results [from Netease] show that more than 60 percent of web users don’t watch it, and close to 70 percent believe it is rather poor. There’s a big gap between this survey and CCTV’s own investigation!

In fact, as users can see from the image below, posted along with the Kdnet.net Weibo post, that the survey results showed that only 10.8 percent of those surveyed by Netease watched the CCTV Nightly News either “every day” (2.9%) or “often” (7.9%).
The Chinese-language original follows:

【《新闻联播》调查报告:超六成网友根本不看 七成看者差评!】近日央视调查称新闻联播满意度居首。新闻联播自上个世纪50年代至今,牢牢占领了千家万户的黄金档,但调查结果却显示,超6成网友不看,看过的网友中,近7成认为比较差,这与央视自己的调查大相径庭!http://t.cn/8DD5hV4 网易图娱

CCTV Nightly News

NOTE: All posts to The Anti-Social List are listed as “permission denied” in the Sina Weibo API, which means they were deleted by Weibo managers, not by users themselves.

Say Cheese!

say cheese

China’s chengguan, or urban management officers, non-police who are charged with such urban tasks as clearing away unlicensed street vendors or carrying out forced demolitions, have a horrible reputation in the country. Their name is synonymous with violence. But recently, the southern city of Guangzhou issued new regulations for its chengguan designed to spruce up their public image. Chengguan are now being told, for example, that they must begin interactions with the public by saying “Hello!”. In the following cartoon, posted by artist DSX (大尸凶的漫画) to Sina Weibo, three chengguan officers pose with an elderly street peddler who is forced to kneel on the street (presumably before they confiscate her goods). “Say ‘Cheese’!” they tell her tauntingly. The not so subtle sub-message: training chengguan in politeness is pointless and beside the point when they are tasked with the oppressive dirty work police want to keep at arm’s length.

Behind corrupt news, a corrupt system

Even the stars can be seen in Beijing skies at the moment. The wind raked through yesterday. The smog lifted.
Recently, as it seemed the smog would never clear, I surrendered and joined the ranks — I too bought an air purifier. After all, Doctor Zhong Nanshan (钟南山), the hero of SARS, said the smog in the north right now was more harmful than the epidemic a decade ago. You can’t just sit around, can you — breathing in those cancer causing particles and waiting for death to come?
At the moment, though, the smog in China’s media presents a more insoluble problem. As we approach China’s tenth Journalist’s Day on November 8, that smog is thicker than it ever has been. The foulness has a lot to do, of course, with the recent scandal surrounding New Express reporter Chen Yongzhou (陈永洲).
[1]
The Chen Yongzhou saga unfolded in three stages. Initially, the New Express supported its reporter following his cross-regional detention by Changsha police. It ran a bold headline, “Please Release Him,” on its front page. The next day, it ran another huge headline: “Again, Please Release Him.” These calls prompted a lot of attention, sympathy and support.
But the story took a dramatic turn after Chen Yongzhou was paraded out in handcuffs on China Central Television. He admitted to accepting money in exchange for a series of reports on the listed company Zoomlion.
The third stage was the counterattack against Changsha authorities and Zoomlion, in which critics questioned, for example, the right of the Changsha police to pursue the case across provincial borders.
There are indeed many problems with how the case has been handled. For instance: if the reporter is indeed suspected of accepting financial reward for his series of reports, then why is the charge her commercial libel and not bribery?
So I think it’s a fair point to say that greater scrutiny should be given to how the Chen Yongzhou case has been handled and what its legal basis really is.
Critics have also criticized the way Chen was paraded on CCTV. This, they say, is essentially “trial by media,” something we’ve seen on a number of so-called “legal programs” lately.
Actually, I don’t quite agree with the characterization of this as “trial by media.” Why? Because this term generally applies when we’re talking about independent media that make their own editorial judgements that impact the outcome of trials. In the case of CCTV, however, we are dealing instead with an official media outlet serving as a tool of power, for which reporting is, we should say, a “compulsory exercise.”
But the apparent revelations in the second phase of the Chen Yongzhou case — a television “confession” and rumors of high-level support from officials in Beijing — put many people in a tight spot. So this journalist we so vocally supported is in fact corrupt?
The All-China Journalists Association (ACJA), which at first showed rare solidarity with the reporter, quickly changed its tune, issuing a condemnation of the reporter’s conduct. The New Express could only capitulate and proclaim its guilt, its management suffering the consequences.
So much remains unclear, hidden by the smog. But we can say for certain that the credibility of China’s news media has plunged to a new low with this case. Media consumers must now think to themselves: if money is at work behind everything we read, where is the information we can trust?
[2]
When we look back to ten years ago, it’s incredible to think what relative prestige media had at that time. Around the time of the Sun Zhigang incident and the SARS epidemic, media were seen to be doing important work, both state-run media and commercially driven media. There was a sense that it was a golden age of investigative reporting.
It was also clear at that time that the government supported watchdog journalism, or what in Chinese is called “supervision by public opinion” (舆论监督). During Journalist’s Day in 2003, CCTV’s Accounts (讲述) program did a special segment in which it introduced a number of top journalists at the time, including Chai Jing (柴静), Qu Zhangying (曲长缨) and Ji Huiyan (冀惠彦) of CCTV, Zhu Yu (朱玉) of Xinhua News Agency, and such well-known investigative reporters as Wang Keqin (王克勤), Jiang Xue (江雪), Chen Feng (陈峰) and Zhao Shilong (赵世龙).
I recall that program with gratitude. Under the direction of anchor Zhang Xiaoqin (张小琴), who is now a teacher at Tsinghua University’s School of Journalism and Communications, these journalists shared wonderful stories about their work on a high-quality, professional program. It stimulated the excitement of a whole generation of aspiring journalists in China.
At the same time I really worry that that program might have been the pinnacle.
What many Chinese probably don’t know, in fact, is that a study done in the United States in 2003 showed already that Chinese journalism had its darker side. The disinterested results of that study indicated that among 66 countries where pay-for-play news was prevalent, the situation in China was the most severe.
The same year, I wrote a piece called, “Two Feudalisms in the Media We Must Be Mindful Of” (警惕传媒的双重“封建化”), in which I drew on the ideas of the German sociologist Jürgen Habermas and urged greater attention to the dangers of political and commercial manipulation of the media.
That piece, now a decade old, is as relevant today as ever.
These days, some of the journalists featured in the Accounts segment have retired. Others have left the profession. A few continue to hold on against the odds. The glories of those days have faded, and the rot we have seen spread through government and through business is now infecting the media as well.
The situation is more serious now than it ever has been. I don’t have reliable numbers available, but I would suggest that journalists who accept red envelopes as a matter of course now outnumber those who refuse.
[3]
In a piece called, “Rent Seeking in the Media is Unforgivable” (新闻寻租不可恕), Caixin editor-in-chief Hu Shuli (胡舒立) recently wrote about the chaos prevailing in China’s media. Hu’s piece drew a strong reaction from many journalists — a rare tide of dissenting opinion for a popular editor whose views are generally praised.
One of the chief objections to Hu’s piece was that by criticizing corruption in the media before the full facts of the Chen Yongzhou case have come to light — particularly given problems in how the case has been handled — Hu Shuli risked inviting further constraints on the already limited space enjoyed by journalists in China.
In fact, the two sides are on the same page. While it’s certainly true that we can’t glimpse the facts in the Chen Yongzhou case clearly as it stands right now, those journalists finding fault with Hu Shuli’s points must appreciate just how horrifying the situation really is in the media right now with respect to corruption.
As I was writing this piece, a number of people genuinely concerned about the future of journalism in China were busy canvassing opinions and exploring the possibility that news media might themselves prohibit such practices as pay-for-play and news extortion.
This should have happened long ago. But I have doubts about the effectiveness of this approach. First of all, checking abuses in the media cannot depend on moral restraint alone, just as the war on corruption has to be supported by legal mechanisms that at present don’t exist.
Secondly, there is the question of the relationship of media to power. Those media that are closer to power enjoy greater status. Some people have rightly pointed out that Chen Yongzhou’s newspaper, the New Express, is just a small-time player in the larger scheme of things. There are much more powerful “ghosts” of misconduct — and they are hiding inside the bigger media players [such as state-run media].
Third, rights and obligations must be balanced. If all we do is prohibit media from rent seeking, and we don’t ensure that their basic right to perform a monitoring role is protected by the law, then this type of supervision [including investigative reporting] can only weaken as a result. And right now, it’s position is already weak. If we say media supervision was in a position of strength ten years ago, we certainly cannot same the same today.
Fourth, right now new media are becoming more and more influential while traditional media are increasingly under financial strain. So if these problems, like accepting red envelopes and doing soft coverage, were a problem before, they will become even more so now. There are no exit mechanisms for news media, and we’ll certainly see some of them sacrificing their discretion on their way out.
Is it possible that news corruption is now lingering haze that we cannot dispel? In any case, it seems that this year we have little choice but to spend Journalist’s Day in a smoggy gloom.
 

Guidance of Public Opinion 舆论导向

The following is an excerpt from “Major Events,” an item appearing in China Comment, a magazine published internally by the Central Propaganda Department:


In the afternoon, Zhao Ziyang speaks with officials from the Propaganda Bureau and others responsible for the ideological work of the Party. “Open things up just a bit. Make the news a bit more open. There’s no big danger in that,” he says, adding. “By facing the wishes of the people, by facing the tide of global progress, we can only make things better.” Once Zhao’s words are conveyed to news media through comrades Hu Qili and Rui Xingwen, support for the student movement rapidly seizes public opinion and wrongly pushes matters in the direction of chaos. Several large newspapers, television and broadcast stations in the capital offer constant coverage of the students’ wishes. Subsequently, movements nationwide begin to gather strength, and the numbers of participants swell. Headlines and slogans attacking and deriding the Party also multiply in papers of all sizes, the content becoming more and more reactionary in nature.

China Comment (半月谈), June 1989


In a series of dictates following the events of June 4, the Central Propaganda Department stated in no uncertain terms that news media must “uphold correct guidance of public opinion.” During 1994’s National Working Conference on Propaganda Thought, propaganda officials said the press must “arm the people with scientific principles, guide the people with correct public opinion, mould the people with a noble spirit, and invigorate the people with excellent works”. “The political tumult of 1989, and the severe missteps in the leading of public opinion taught everyone in the Party an important lesson,” Jiang Zemin said in a meeting with propaganda ministers on January 24, 1996.

In a speech on September 26 of the same year, Jiang Zemin said after paying an inspection visit to the People’s Daily that correct guidance of public opinion was good for both the Party and the people, and incorrect guidance potentially calamitous for both. Jiang emphasized that “control of news and public opinion had to be placed firmly in the hands of those who had a deep respect for Marxism, for the Party and for the people.” “Those units responsible for news and public opinion must place firm and correct political bearings above all other priorities,” he said, “thereby upholding correct guidance of public opinion.”

The particular aspects of “guidance of public opinion” have generally been defined as follows: 1. Major Party media must not print or broadcast content that in policy or spirit is at odds with the Party; 2. Media should actively promote the policies of the Party and facilitate public understanding of these policies; 3. If public opinion differs from the Party on any matters, the media are responsible for sufficiently guiding the public so as to bring their opinions in line with the Party spirit; 4. If news reports or propaganda appear concealing certain trends at odds with the aims of the Party, the media must act to prevent the possible spread of these trends; 5. News that is not in the interest of the Party must be rejected, and media must not be so bold as to publicize such news; 6. The media must ensure correct and unerring guidance of public opinion by thoroughly respecting the Party’s discipline of propaganda; 7. The media must provide journalists with a foundation of expert knowledge and research in propaganda techniques in order to improve the results of propaganda guidance.

Guidance Today

“Guidance of public opinion” is still routinely found in CCP guidelines today, and increasingly under Xi Jinping has found its way also into national laws relating broadly to the media. In his February 2016 speech outlining his media policy, Xi reiterated that media needed to “firmly adhere to correct guidance of public opinion” (牢牢坚持正确舆论导向). In the same speech he stressed that media operated by the Party-state must all be “surnamed Party” (姓党), upholding the ‘Party nature”(党性).

As digital transformation has re-defined the media landscape in China, however, adhering to “correct guidance of public opinion” is no longer strictly a matter for traditional media and its editors, managers and (licensed) journalists. As hundreds of millions of internet users are actively involved in the sharing and creation of content, including chats, they are all, for the CCP, important nodes of “guidance.”

Regulations released in September 2017 by the Cyberspace Administration of China on the management of chat groups on social media services such as WeChat, QQ and Baidu Post Bar specified (emphasis added) that “providers of information services through internet chat groups on the internet, and users, must adhere to correct guidance, promoting socialist core values, fostering a positive and healthy online culture, and protecting a favorable online ecology.”

Guilt and shame in China's media

As all eyes turn to the mysterious jeep that burst into flames this week near the Tiananmen Gate, the fate of New Express journalist Chen Yongzhou (陈永洲) is bound to fade into the background. But we must remember not to forget Chen’s story. It has, very possibly, all the makings of a cliff-hanging crime thriller — and we are barely into the first chapter.
As we all know, Chen’s saga began as a relatively simple story: a newspaper making a rare public call for the release of its reporter, who had been detained by police on slander charges for a series of investigative reports.
Just as it seemed the tide might turn against Chen Yongzhou’s accuser, Hong Kong and Shenzhen-listed Zoomlion, and against Changsha police, the state-run China Central Television ran an on-camera “confession” in which Chen said he had accepted money to run a series of false reports on Zoomlion. The day after the “confession” aired, Chen’s newspaper, the New Express, published a front-page apology, saying it had not adequately reviewed his reports.

chen yongzhou


The story line suddenly changed. This was no longer about a courageous and desperate campaign by a newspaper to protect its own. It was about a journalist who had maliciously attacked a company for personal gain, and who in the process had smeared the reputation of his newspaper and his profession.
The All-China Journalists Association (ACJA), an official organization ostensibly representing the interests of media personnel in China — and which initially pledged to look into Chen’s detention — immediately flip-flopped, condemning the reporter’s confessed actions.
There were no new facts in the case, mind you. For its part, the ACJA seemed to drop its promised investigation; it was enough that the reporter had confessed on TV:

The All-China Journalists Association (ACJA) Saturday condemned a Chinese reporter who has been detained on suspicion of releasing unverified and untrue stories about a company.
Chen Yongzhou, a journalist with the New Express based in the southern city of Guangzhou, confessed to police that he had released a series of unverified and false reports about the engineering giant Zoomlion at the request of others.
Chen’s behavior has seriously violated journalistic professional ethics and harmed the media’s credibility, said the ACJA in a statement, adding that the New Express should also be held responsible for dereliction of duty over the past year.

That is a marvelous opening paragraph from Xinhua News Agency. It tells us, in twenty-four words, everything we need to know about the Chen Yongzhou case. Notice, the reporter has been “detained on suspicion of releasing unverified and untrue stories about a company,” but the ACJA, nominally charged with protecting him, has already “condemned” him.
There we have it. Chen Yongzhou is guilty until proven so.
There are so many lingering problems and questions in this case. But one of the biggest ones, obviously, is whether Chen’s confession was coerced. It’s a fact that he was marched in for his televised confession between two police officers. He was in handcuffs and wearing a prison jumpsuit. Web users in China also noted what appeared to be (but no one can possibly confirm) an abrasion on his neck just inside his collar. Can anyone with half a brain for law and reason take this confession to mean anything at all?
Here is what Wei Yongzheng, China’s most prominent media law expert, said in an article today:

This program of China Central Television’s, allowing a detained suspect to face the television camera and confess before the whole country . . . directly violates Criminal Procedure Law, which states that “no person may be forced to confess their own crimes.” When someone has been deprived of their personal freedom, and when they are escorted out in prison garb and in handcuffs by a pair of brawny police officers — to say that they are consciously and willingly confessing their wrongs in their own words wouldn’t fool even a three year-old child.

Legally speaking, then, this confession means nothing in terms of Chen Yongzhou’s guilt or innocence. But it speaks volumes about the conduct of Changsha police and China Central Television.
Here again is Wei Yongzheng:

The China Central Television program exposes the illegal behavior of the police. The Prison Statute clearly stipulates: “Restraints may be used, with the approval of the prison warden, in cases where there is reason to believe an offender might use violence, resist, escape or attempt suicide. In emergency situations, such equipment may be used initially, and then report be made to the prison warden. [Such equipment] should be removed outside the above-mentioned conditions.” . . .
The new Criminal Procedure Law introduced last year made additional demands about not forcing confessions, and also made stipulations about protecting the secrecy of information during the process of investigation and trial. Our media must study these important regulations diligently, making fundamental changes to the method of reporting confessions by suspects before trial. This report from CCTV not only failed to make these adjustments, but was even more flagrant than usual in its violations. This is perplexing and disappointing.

The upshot here is that the broadcast “confession” by CCTV’s Morning News program should be understood not as evidence of Chen Yongzhou’s guilt, but as a bleak illustration of how his rights have been violated by both police and the media.
The deeper irony is that while the CCTV “confession” propelled the Chen Yongzhou story away from the narrative of the victimized journalist and established the idea of the journalist as a breaker of laws and ethics, the only demonstrably unethical and possibly unlawful media conduct in this case is that of CCTV.
Other media, including the New Express, and agencies and organizations like the ACJA, have seized on the televised “confession.” They have reported it, and acted on it, with the assumption that it is the disinterested truth. In doing so, they have gone against their legal and professional duties, says Wei Yongzheng:

I must express my condemnation in seeing the statements of the All-China Journalists Association and other agencies, which simply repeated the confession of the reporter in this case. And I will not jump on the bandwagon in judging that the reporter is guilty. This [restraint] accords with the law. I hope that the police in this case and the media, in accord with the law, will immediately stop propagating the idea that the suspect is guilty. And I hope the case can be sent quickly to the procuratorate for investigation. If indeed a crime has been committed, then an impartial verdict must be rendered by the court in strict accordance with the Criminal Procedure Law. Only then can the truth be revealed and all doubts be eliminated.

Indeed, given what a steaming dog mess this whole case has become, how can we possibly know who is telling the truth? It is a well-established fact that state media in China have been among the worst offenders in cases of journalistic misconduct, including the acceptance of bribes and gag fees.
We can easily imagine the following totally hypothetical scenario: a listed company, stung by a series of reports from a commercial newspaper, pushes local authorities to arrest the reporter responsible; shamed again by a very public call for the reporter’s release, the company (and local authorities) seek out a program on state-run television, which agrees to air a forced confession by the reporter in exchange for a generous advertising purchase; the televised confession is a public relations coup for the listed company, turning the news narrative around and pushing its stock price higher.
The role of the ACJA in the Chen Yongzhou case is particularly shameful. Consider what the association says in its formal response to the CCTV “confession”:

The association safeguards reporters’ legal rights and interests, but also strongly opposes all unethical practices, including the abuse of rights in news gathering, and publishing false stories in exchange for cash.

CCTV’s decision to air the Chen Yongzhou “confession” was quite clearly an “abuse of rights in news gathering.” And that abuse directly concerns the “legal rights and interests” of the journalist at the center of this story.
On both accounts, the All-China Journalists Association has failed itself and China’s professional journalists.


The New Express story in today's papers

Guangzhou’s New Express, which made international headlines yesterday with a brassy front-page editorial calling for the release of one of its reporters from Changsha police custody, has repeated the call on its front page today.
In a bold headline in blue brackets toward the bottom of today’s front page, the New Express says of reporter Chen Yongzhou: AGAIN WE ASK FOR HIS RELEASE. A smaller headline reads: “Everything must be resolved within the framework of the law. You cannot detain first and [rationalize] charges later.” A jump directs readers to page A05, where there is a lengthy story summarizing the Chen Yongzhou case — drawing on reporting from other media, including the official Xinhua News Agency and The Beijing News.
More details on the circumstances of Chen Yongzhou’s detention have also emerged.
Chen Yongzhou’s wife told a reporter from The Beijing News that on the morning of October 17, Chen Yongzhou received a telephone call from Guangzhou police saying that there were new development’s in a report of theft the family had filed months earlier. Chen’s wife accompanied him to the police station, she said, because she was most familiar with the situation. When they arrived at the station they were taken into an interview room. Four or five officers then came in and identified themselves as Changsha police, saying Chen Yongzhou would be placed under criminal detention effective immediately.

New Express 10 24


So far, plenty of other Chinese media have followed suit with this story. We are hearing that a strongly worded editorial from Guangzhou’s Southern Metropolis Daily was removed by propaganda authorities. The headline of that editorial apparently was: “Cross-Regional Detention Sends Chill Through Media; The Abuse of Police Powers Does Not Stand Before the Law.”

photo

Original page layout for an editorial to be run in today’s Southern Metropolis Daily that was eventually, sources at the paper say, killed by censors.
However, the Southern Metropolis Daily has managed to publish a second editorial on Page 02 today, and it has plenty to say.
The editorial argues that the Chen Yongzhou case is about a serious abuse of power by authorities in Changsha. “Even more unsettling,” the editorial says, “is if local authorities act only to serve local economic interests, if they ignore legal limitations and preventative regulations to pursue cases and arrest suspects, not only is this the ugly result of the failure to limit power, but it becomes a serious example of power doing evil.”
The editorial also reiterates a point many people have emphasized over the past 24 hours, that even if an investigation shows that a news report contain serious factual errors causing demonstrable damage to a company’s business and reputation, the focus of legal action should be the media itself, not the individual reporter.
Images for a number of other important editorials and reports appearing in China’s media today follow.

The Beijing Times

The Beijing Times: “Seeing With Cool Heads the Issue of Damage to Business Reputation”
 

Qianjiang Evening News

Qianjiang Evening News: “Reporter for Guangzhou’s New Express is Detained by Changsha Police”


 
The Beijing News

The Beijing News: “Detaining Reporter for ‘Damaging Business Reputation’ is an Abuse of Police Powers”