The Irrawaddy News Magazine [Covering Burma and Southeast Asia]
ARTICLE
The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre
By AUNG ZAW MARCH, 2005 - VOLUME 13 NO.3

Censors signal bleak prospects for free press

 

The popular Burmese lifestyle magazine Han Thit is missing from the newsstands this month. Nor will it appear in April.

 

The magazine was suspended by the authorities for two months. The reason? It carried a restaurant’s advertisement of a St. Valentine’s Day celebration.

 

No Valentine cards or red roses then for the regime bureaucrats responsible for such daft decisions. Journalists, editors and publishers are braced for even more inexplicable actions against the media as a new censorship policy takes shape following last October’s purge.

 

Burma’s police chief Brig-Gen Khin Yi being mobbed by reporters

 

Media issues surfaced at the National Convention in March, although the discussions yielded no hope for possible relaxation of restrictions on press freedom.

 

According to a report by the official mouthpiece The New Light of Myanmar, it was agreed at the National Convention session that “NGO- and privately-owned media” would emerge “sooner or later.” So far so good, but then came the crunch: “Permission will be granted to the media that keep their dignity. Therefore, action will have to be taken against those who breach the rules. And consequently, it is necessary to enact laws in connection with the media.”

 

So, nothing changes. Newspapers and magazines still work under the threat of capricious closure orders and journalists remain in jail for offending the regime. 11 are behind bars in Burma, according to the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists. In its annual report, CPJ said conditions for Burmese journalists have deteriorated, with hard-liners tightening their grip on power inside the government and cracking down further on Burma’s official media and the few remaining independent writers and editors.

 

Burma is condemned internationally as “one of the most heavily censored states in the world.”

 

One of the jailed 11, the veteran writer and journalist Win Tin, has been in Rangoon’s notorious Insein prison since 1989. When he recently turned 75, Burmese journalists around the world celebrated his birthday and called for his release. In 2001, UNESCO awarded him its Guillermo Cano World Press Freedom Prize.

 

There’s no sign that Win Tin will be released soon, but a regular visitor says the elderly prisoner keeps his spirits high.

 

Before the October purge, the regime’s censorship board was controlled by senior military intelligence officers close to their disgraced leader, Khin Nyunt. When he fell so did they.

 

Maj Aye Htun, a military intelligence officer who headed the notorious press censorship department, was forced to retire. His boss, Brig-Gen Than Htun, who oversaw periodicals, was arrested and is now under detention.

 

The press censorship board, previously part of the home affairs ministry, is now under the control of ministry of information, headed by Brig-Gen Kyaw Hsan. Aye Htun’s successor will come from the army’s public relations department, it’s thought.

 

About two dozen “scrutinizers” remain on the board, buried in their task of paging through Burma’s many publications.

 

The press conferences previously handled by Khin Nyunt’s intelligence officers are still being held, but with some changes.

 

Interestingly, after the tsunami hit the region, Burmese officials held a rare press briefing informing journalists about what had happened in the coastal areas, with detailed information. In the past, the junta would usually keep tight-lipped on natural disasters and issue heavily censored reports.

 

Local journalists are now invited to join official briefings which used to be given for a handful of “foreign journalists”—Burmese working for wire services such as AP, Reuters and AFP. Strangely enough, journalists in Rangoon say if they receive an invitation from officials to attend a press conference, they have to show up and publish reports on it.

 

“If we don’t, they keep calling us, asking why we haven’t reported,” said one senior editor in Rangoon.

 

The local journalists keep a low profile, though, clearly reluctant to ask awkward questions. At the close of the press conferences, they can be seen hurrying to put their questions to officials they believe might be reticent about speaking openly. But a journalist who recently attended a press conference said that high ranking officials were happy to answer some sensitive questions and allow themselves to be mobbed by reporters with microphones.

 

One veteran journalist said junta officials didn’t know how to handle the press and resented questions. Journalists felt intimidated and complained of bugged telephones and lost emails.

 

“Nothing is likely to change,” said a senior editor on a monthly business magazine. “We’re still fighting dinosaurs.”

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