10 Sep 13 | China, Digital Freedom, News and features
(Photo illustration: Shutterstock)
A new Harvard study for the first time provides an inside look at the complex system of Chinese social media censorship. The report confirms a little-known theory: while messages referencing direct political action are banned, criticism of the communist leadership is often allowed.
To get behind the scenes of censorship, the researchers created their own social media website and signed up to 100 existing ones. These included ‘Chinese Twitter’ Sina Weibo (weibo.com) and Tencent Weibo (t.qq.com) which combined have over 500 million users, as well as blogging platforms that represent 87% of blog posts on the web.
They found that messages are either published immediately and reviewed by a censor within 24 hours, or automatically held for review before publication based on keywords used in the text. One list of such keywords, offered by software companies to clients running social media sites, included ‘go on the streets’, ‘Dalai Lama’ and ‘corruption’.
Sixty-six of the sites tested reviewed at least some of the messages; 41% of the 1,200 messages they posted were reviewed, and 63% of those did not make it online.
But in what may come as a surprise to some, the study found that criticism of leaders and the state are often allowed. The messages that are cracked down on are those related to ‘collective action potential’ – civil unrest that might stir citizens to act.
The report suggest authorities might even welcome such criticism, because it alerts them that an official is incompetent or corrupt and allows them to replace him or her, ‘maintaining stability, and the system can then be seen as responsive.’
The study also found that private company censors are more likely to censor after publication, as they are under less direct government control than state censors. But the extra care taken by state censors can backfire. Pre-publishing reviews are often based on keywords, like corruption, that can be used in both pro- and anti-government messages. In other words, even government praise is restricted by censorship.
This article was originally published on 10 Sept 2013 at indexoncensorship.org
28 Aug 13 | China, News and features
(Photo illustration: Shutterstock)
Bo Xilai, the ousted former Chinese politician, continues to capture headlines even as Chinese authorities begin a highly concerted campaign to stifle online expression, Vincent Chao reports.
The trial of Bo Xilai, the once promising leader of China’s most populous city, ended on Monday with revelations about murder, corruption and torrid details of a love-triangle – offering the public a rare glimpse into the lives of China’s richest and most powerful politicians.
But outside the spotlight, authorities have directed an increasingly hostile campaign to limit free expression, especially online. Over the past few weeks, a growing number of journalists, bloggers and activists have been arrested or detained on vague and obscure charges. And last week, an official forum warned of new limits to what internet users should and should not say on social media.
Crackdowns on free press are not uncommon in China. Setting the latest actions apart is the concerted action to stifle online ‘opinion leaders’, whose posts are widely shared and distributed on Weibo – the Chinese equivalent of Twitter. The actions follow increasingly sophisticated censorship strategies ensured to block access to information on either government corruption or calls for collective action.
Liu Hu, a reporter for the Guangzhou-based New Express, is the latest individual to be detained, after he openly accused a senior government official of negligence in an online posting. In the widely shared report published last month, he quoted various sources to call for an investigation as to whether Ma Zhengchi, a former Chongqing vice mayor, deliberately undersold a publicly-run enterprise costing the state up to £2.6 million.
Interrogated in his home on Friday before his detention, Beijing police have since accused him of ‘fabricating false rumors’ which his lawyer denies.
Meanwhile, Charles Xue, a billionaire investor known for his 12 million Weibo followers, was also detained by police on Friday on charges of soliciting a prostitute. Commonly known by his alias, Xue Manzi, the naturalized US citizen routinely posted popular reform-minded content as well as commenting on other issues such as air quality and food safety, which was then widely shared.
His detention has triggered questions of whether the charges are politically motivated, given that Chinese authorities have used similar tactics to discredit commentators that fail to toe the official line in the past. In a post that was later erased, Hu Xijin, the editor of the state-run Global Times said: ‘Cannot rule out the possibility that authorities are arresting Xue Manzi with a prostitute to give him a hard time.’
The latest attempts to silence online expression appear to stem from China’s secretive Document No. 9, a copy of which the New York Times acquired earlier this month. Issued by the central party office, and believed to reflect the views of newly instated President Xi Jinping, the memo directed local party groups to suppress ideas of ‘western-inspired’ notions of media independence and civic participation, ostensibly in attempt to solidify the party’s grip on power.
It claimed that dissidents ‘have stirred up trouble about disclosing officials’ assets, using the Internet to fight corruption, media controls and other sensitive topics, to provoke discontent with the party and government.’
Since the release of the document in April, authorities have stepped up online controls by using a combination of hard and soft pressure against popular bloggers – the tiny minority of Weibo users believed to be responsible for the creation of more than 80 percent of original content. Invited to last week’s forum, several popular bloggers were reminded that posts must ‘uphold the socialist system’ and ‘guard the national interest.’
Such ideas have naturally attracted detractors, especially amongst China’s new and growing class of intellectuals eager to push the boundaries of government regulation. But those calls are becoming fewer and further between, especially in recent weeks.
Charges were laid earlier this month against Zhou Lubao, an activist famously known for exposing the lavish lifestyle enjoyed by a mayor of a provincial city, which included a £21,000 watch. Having went on to analyze the watches of other prominent officials, Zhou’s Weibo account has since been deactivated amid police accusations that he ‘extorted money’ from the subjects of his disclosures.
In addition, two other prominent bloggers have also since been detained for ‘spreading false rumors’ online.
The hardline approach against online expression comes amid some disappointment by earlier supporters of Xi, who was initially believed to be a supporter of gradual social and political reform. But it could also represent efforts to manage commentary as Xi consolidates power following Beijing’s once-a-decade leadership change and the Bo Xilai affair, its biggest political scandal in decades.
What’s more clear is that authorities are gaining a clearer definition of what the internet, now accessed by almost 600 million Chinese users, should – and should not – be used for. Both the high-profile detentions of Hu and Xue, announced by police on Weibo, appear to be designed to send a message that whistleblowing and political discussion have no place online, despite state-run media being initially supportive of such efforts.
A state-run People’s Daily editorial, for example, on Monday remarked that it wanted the internet to become a more ‘orderly’ place, where users were held ‘responsible for their remarks.’ The Global Times added that ‘the internet needs moral regulations’ with authorities handling prior cases ‘too softly, which has allowed rumor mongering to spiral out of control.’
These details come despite their own efforts by Chinese authorities to expand their use of social media as a medium of communication, as seen during the Bo Xilai trial.
For a major corruption case, the media frenzy was near unprecedented. Even official media, typically silent on major corruption cases, have lauded the ‘open and transparent’ trial, reported hour by hour on an official Weibo account, which it claims symbolizes more public scrutiny and an important guarantee of a fair trial.
This article was originally published on 28 Aug, 2013 at indexoncensorship.org
12 Aug 13 | Asia and Pacific, China, News and features, Politics and Society, Taiwan
Activists and civic groups march in Taipei in protest against the Want Want China Times Group’s planned acquisition of China Network Systems’s cable TV services in Sept 2012.
(Photo: Craig Ferguson / Demotix)
The connections between China and Taiwanese media owners has given rise to concerns, along with some evidence, that the industry is under growing pressure to curb reporting on topics detrimental to Chinese interests and cross-strait ties.
The capital, Taipei, erupted in protests when it became known that Tsai Eng-ming, a pro-Beijing businessman, attempted to wrest control of Taiwan’s largest newspaper, the Apple Daily, earlier this year. The attempt failed amid popular outrage. But conversations with several journalists suggest that Beijing continues to exert a quieter influence – involving self-censorship and lucrative business interests – in attempt to avoid further scrutiny.
This is perhaps most prominent at the China Times Group, a Taiwanese media conglomerate that Tsai purchased in 2008. Estimated to be worth up to US$10.6 billion, the snack manufacturer has since led its subsidiaries to become more China-friendly, accepting payment from Beijing in return for camouflaged advertising and one-sided reporting. His flagship daily, the China Times, has been fined multiple times by Taiwan’s media regulators for masquerading advertising as reporting.
“It happens far more frequently than most people realize,” said Lin Chao-yi, the former head of the Association of Taiwan Journalists, that uncovered one such example last year. After receiving a copy of a schedule detailing how a visit from a ranking Chinese official was to be covered, including pre-defined topics and article lengths, Lin then impersonated a China Times employee to ask the delegation how the paper was going to be compensated.
Caught on tape, the Chinese press officer replied that the payment would be wired to a China Times Group subsidiary in Beijing. But far from discouraging such deals from taking place again, Lin said that his report “just made them more careful.” Indeed, accepting Chinese money is not only lucrative business, but also allows the paper to stay on Beijing’s good graces – guaranteeing access from behind China’s Great Firewall – according to sources familiar with the relationship.
The China Times Group’s cosy relationship with Beijing has led some journalists working under its banner to become more aware of what might, and might not, be publishable. Speaking on the condition of anonymity, one China Times reporter said that, there is an “unspoken understanding” of what articles or reports might contradict the paper’s political viewpoint, including, for example, pieces critical of either Beijing or Taiwan’s China-friendly president, Ma Ying-jeou.
“In these cases, we might choose to just drop the subject, instead of choosing to pursue it further,” the reporter said, in words reminiscent of the self-censorship taking place elsewhere in the Chinese-speaking region.
But far from taking place only at the China Times Group, self-censorship is also seen as a necessity by other media groups keen on maintaining access to the Chinese market. Much of this has to do with Taiwan’s highly profitable entertainment industry that feeds thousands of hours of programming each year into local Chinese television channels. Produced by the same media groups that also run cable news stations, coverage of some politically sensitive topics, such as the Dalai Lama or the Falungong movement, are toned down to avoid antagonizing Beijing.
“China uses its vast market as a bargaining chip,” said Cheryl Lai, the former editor-in-chief of the state run Central News Agency, adding that most of this takes place secretly and away from public scrutiny. “They know that most of these media companies are in it for the money. All they have to do is threaten to cut it off.”
The trend towards greater Chinese influence in the media is reflective of the realization that its political objectives of unifying Taiwan, which it claims to be a breakaway province, can be achieved cheaper and more effectively through propaganda, rather than force. Instead of “spilling blood on Taiwan,” an old rallying call for conquering the island by force if necessary, Beijing has deemed it easier to “spill money on Taiwan,” said Lai, who has been writing on China’s growing political sway on the island.
The same trend can be seen elsewhere where China holds political interests, such as Hong Kong, where a large number of publications are ostensibly under its influence. The South China Morning Post, for example, has reportedly been hit by allegations of self-censorship after the appointment of new Editor-in-Chief Wang Xiangwei, a member of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Congress, a Chinese government body.
In Taiwan, even as most media interests are controlled by large corporations, some with extensive business ties to China, there is, however also a realization that hard-fought press freedoms must be protected. More than 100,000 protestors, including students and reporters, rallied in defence of the Apple Daily during the failed purchase in January this year, with some groups vowing to raise the equivalent funds if it meant protecting the paper’s journalistic integrity.
All this is reason why Beijing is likely to continue and incubate its media influence behind the scenes, at least for now.
