andersen-ottaway lecture

1994 Andersen Lecture
Daisy Li Yuet-wah
Vice-chairman, Hong Kong Journalists Association

Endangered Species: Press Freedom in Hong Kong

It is a great honour to be invited to deliver the 1994 Harold W. Andersen Lecture. This honour does not belong to me alone, but to Hong Kong journalists as a whole.

The title of my speech is "Endangered Species: Press Freedom in Hong Kong." Let me start off with a story about a truly "endangered species" - the rhinoceros. The story was written by the late avant-garde playwright Eugene Ionesco. I was introduced to his masterpiece "Rhinoceros" by a good friend of mine and a very experienced journalist.

Ionesco’s story tells about a man who becomes disturbed and frightened when the people around him turn into rhinos. Initially, only a few people suffer the transformation, but gradually his friends, neighbours and colleagues also turn into rhinos. Eventually, even his girlfriend joins up with the rhinos, and he is left alone.

At first, people are opposed to the idea of turning into rhinos, and regard it as a disgrace to the human soul. But as more and more people change, the idea is no longer absurd and unacceptable. Rhinos become good looking and their voices take on a musical tone. Even those initially horrified by the idea join the trend. Voluntarily or reluctantly, they too become rhinos. Their last words as humans are: "We must move with the times."

Although the work was written in the late 1950s by a European playwright, there are parallels with Hong Kong, and the fate of press freedom in the territory. As 1997 approaches, pressures are growing for the journalistic profession to transform, to fit in with the new system, under Chinese sovereignty.

Thirteen months ago, the World Press Freedom Committee held a conference in Hong Kong to examine the challenges faced by the Hong Kong media. I was invited to speak at the conference, which was timely and significant, given the grave concern prompted by the detention in Beijing one week earlier of a Hong Kong reporter, Xi Yang.

The press freedom report card in Hong Kong has not been encouraging over the past year. In the past few weeks, the issue has been pushed to the forefront of the Sino-British political dispute. Journalists are now in a much more precarious position than a few months ago.

The latest politicisation of the issue was prompted by remarks made by Hong Kong’s Chief Secretary, Anson Chan, in New York on the 18th of October. She was speaking at a Hong Kong, United States business seminar.

Answering a question from the floor, Mrs. Chan echoed the concerns of journalists that in recent years there had been a tendency on the part of some sections of the media to exercise self-censorship. She further reiterated that the Hong Kong government was committed to removing those draconian laws that inhibited press freedom.

To those who have been campaigning for several years to repeal those draconian laws, Mrs. Chan’s remarks sounded hollow. I shall explain later.

Mrs. Chan’s remarks drew immediate criticism from a Chinese official based in Hong Kong with the New China News Agency - Beijing’s de facto embassy in the territory. Without naming Mrs. Chan, the agency’s propaganda chief, Sun Nansheng, accused senior Hong Kong government officials of misleading outsiders into believing Hong Kong would not have press freedom after 1997.

He further questioned the motives of those who "exaggerated" the issue, as he put it. He implied that government officials wanted to incite anti-Beijing feelings and stir up mistrust over the principle of "one country, two systems", under which Hong Kong is meant to retain its separate identity after 1997.

Mr. Sun further warned that if the government wanted to amend any law to create trouble for the post-1997 administration, its plan would fail, because the future legislature would repeal any such law.

He also said self-censorship was a form of social responsibility, and a manifestation of journalistic ethics. He said news executives had the freedom to decide which articles should be included in a publication, and which should not.

Two days later, the Communist Party newspaper in Hong Kong, Wen Wei Po, in an editorial, linked the remarks of the Chief Secretary with the work of the Hong Kong Journalists Association.

The editorial alleged that the publication of the Association’s 1994 Annual Report on Freedom of Expression in Hong Kong - and I think you all have a copy of this report - was to provide a base for the British administration to use "defending press freedom" as an excuse to change laws before the change of sovereignty. It further alleged that the report was written under the orders of the British administration by two or three people who worked for pro-British media organisations in Hong Kong.

Both the New China News Agency propaganda chief and the editorial writer for Wen Wei Po tried to rationalise self-censorship as responsible media behaviour. To them, any resistance to self-censorship would be regarded as a lack of responsibility to readers, society and professional ethics.

The HKJA strongly rejects these assertions. Perhaps the best way to explain the problems facing Hong Kong journalists is to describe some of the events of the past year.

The first incident was the arrest and jailing of my colleague, Xi Yang. The twelve-year sentence imposed on him not only shocked the journalistic community in Hong Kong. It also cast a long shadow over press freedom in the run-up to 1997 and beyond.

Hong Kong journalists were deeply disturbed, when Xi was detained on September 27th last year. His formal arrest was announced on October the 7th, along with that of Tian Ye, a deputy director of the foreign affairs department of the People’s Bank of China.

Both Xi and Tian were charged under the provisions of the State Security Law. Xi was accused of "spying and stealing state financial secrets", and Tian of passing on the information to Xi. According to the official New China News Agency, the information

included unpublished interest rate changes and the bank’s plans for international gold transactions.

The agency said, without elaboration, that the theft of this information had "caused serious consequences "and that both Xi and Tian had "candidly confessed" to the charges laid against them.

The journalistic profession was disturbed not only by the seriousness of the charges, but also by the way the Chinese authorities handled the case. The Hong Kong Journalists Association and many leading advocates of freedom of expression - among them the International Federation of Journalists and its affiliates, the Committee to Protect Journalists, Article 19 and of course yourselves - called on the Chinese authorities to substantiate the charges against Xi and ensure that he would be tried in an open and fair manner.

Despite these calls, Xi was held incommunicado for six months after his arrest. He was allowed access only to his father, and that was only once. He was denied access to legal representation and his employer. No further details of his charges were disclosed.

Xi was tried in camera by the Beijing People’s Intermediate Court on March 28th this year. He was sentenced to 12 years’ imprisonment. He will be deprived of his political rights for a further two years. The ruling reached Xi’s family verbally four days later, in the early morning of April Fool’s Day. The court refused to confirm the ruling publicly until April 4th, a week after the sentence. The written judgement has never been made public, which itself is a violation of China’s Criminal Proceedings Law.

Two Chinese lawyers had the courage to take on Xi’s case on appeal. They argued for his innocence, on the grounds that there was inadequate evidence, a lack of clarity in the facts and improper application of the law, when the intermediate court reached its verdict. They argued that Xi had not committed what the law defined as stealing, nor did he consciously try to "spy" on state secrets.

It came as no surprise when the Beijing Supreme Court upheld the original verdict. The harsh sentence provoked an unprecedented reaction from the journalistic profession and the community at large. Hundreds of journalists joined a spontaneous march to the New China News Agency headquarters, and 1,300 of them - some from Taiwan - signed a petition letter to the Chinese leadership, regretting the conviction and heavy sentence. The general public also reacted strongly against the sentence. More than two thousand people took part in a march after Xi’s appeal was rejected.

To people in Hong Kong, Xi’s case is not only about justice. It also has wider implications for the future of press freedom in Hong Kong, which is regarded as one of the cornerstones for the territory’s success.

The underlying message is clear - Hong Kong journalists should not cross the line of what is and is not permissible in the eyes of the Chinese authorities. Yet the danger is that one can never tell for sure where the line is drawn. Together with the ambiguities involved in Chinese law, the Beijing authorities tend to interpret their laws freely, to suit a particular political need.

This worry is not unfounded or over-exaggerated. Take, for example, Hong Kong’s post-1997 constitution, the Basic Law. Article 23 of that document stipulates that the post-1997 legislature must enact laws to prohibit any act of treason, secession, sedition, subversion against the Central People’s Government, or theft of state secrets. With the final interpretation of this part of the Basic Law lying firmly in the hands of the Standing Committee of China’s National People’s Congress - which is not known for its political flexibility - post-1997 press freedom is in serious doubt.

Another incident of serious concern to Hong Kong journalists has been the arrest in Beijing of Gao Yu, a mainland journalist who has contributed articles to a pro-China magazine in Hong Kong. Gao was detained on October 2nd 1993, two days before her scheduled departure for Hong Kong. She was due to travel on to the United States, to take up a fellowship at the Columbia University Journalism School.

She was subsequently charged with revealing state secrets to people outside mainland China. Like Xi, Gao was kept incommunicado. She was tried in camera in April this year, but the Beijing Intermediate Court returned the case to the prosecutor for more evidence. There have been no developments since then.

Gao was the deputy editor of the now defunct Economics Weekly, which was run by Wang Juntao, a famous dissident who was sentenced to 13 years in jail, following the crushing of the 1989 pro-democracy movement. Wang was released early this year, apparently as part of China’s efforts to secure American renewal of its most-favoured-nation trading status. He is, of course, now in the United States.

Many people see Gao’s case as an example of China’s "revolving door" system. One prominent dissident is released, then another is detained, to ensure there is another victim for the next round of trade concessions. To journalists in Hong Kong, Gao has become

another victim of the ambiguous nature of Chinese law, in this case on state secrets.

The detention and arrest of journalists is a visible threat to press freedom in Hong Kong. The invisible threat of self-censorship is even more disturbing.

A 1990 survey conducted by the Chinese University of Hong Kong asked journalists about their attitude towards self-censorship. It found that 23 percent of about 500 respondents were apprehensive when criticising the Chinese government. About 55 percent said they were not. The HKJA is now in the process of finding out whether this trend has worsened.

There is no doubt that acts of self-censorship are difficult to substantiate with hard evidence. However, we recorded the largest number of documented cases over the past year. Let me cite a few examples.

Although these examples all relate to the broadcast media, it does not mean that the print media is immune from self-censorship. It merely indicates that self-censorship in the print media is more discreet and more difficult to prove.

Self-censorship highlights another problem - the desire of media proprietors to maintain good relations with Beijing, or at least not to be seen to be anti-Beijing. The desire to seek business opportunities in China is a major factor in this trend.

So much about the future sovereign state. Let us now turn to the record of the present administration. The Hong Kong government has recently put forward a bill to amend the Animals and Plants (Protection of Endangered Species) Ordinance. It aims to strengthen

the protection of all endangered species covered in international covenants. However, for press freedom, this other "endangered species", greater protection has yet to materialise.

Although Hong Kong enjoys a relatively high degree of press freedom, its foundation is very fragile. Our statute book contains numerous draconian laws which could suppress the media overnight, if used to the full.

In September 1992, we submitted a list of 17 laws which could be used against the media. Top of the list are security-related laws, including the Official Secrets Act, the Emergency Regulations Ordinance and its subsidiary legislation, the Police Force Ordinance, the Crimes Ordinance, the Prevention of Bribery Ordinance and the Public Order Ordinance.

Those who attended the World Press Freedom Committee conference in Hong Kong last year will probably recall the pledge made by the Governor, Chris Patten, to review and amend suspect laws to secure the protection of press freedom in Hong Kong.

Governor Patten and senior government officials have restated this pledge many times. But one year later - not a single law - I repeat, not a single law - has yet been changed.

We are deeply concerned about the continual slippage in this law reform exercise, particularly the delay in bringing forward changes to security-related legislation.

It appears that the government may lack the political will to amend many of these suspect laws, either because of resistance from within the civil service or because of fear of an adverse reaction from China.

I should mention here that the government is now prepared to consider changes to some laws which it previously refused to touch, for example on criminal libel. There have also been indications that it will not oppose moves to scrap a political censorship provision in the Film Censorship Ordinance.

However, the reality is that time is fast running out. There are only three legislative sessions left before the handover in 1997, and possibly only two, if the final one is devoted to transitional matters.

To make the situation worse, the Independent Commission Against Corruption recently charged three senior journalists from the Ming Pao newspaper - again my colleagues - for violating a provision in the Prevention of Bribery Ordinance, which bars the disclosure of anti-corruption investigations without lawful authority or reasonable excuse, before an arrest is made.

The only "crime" committed by the "Ming Pao Three" is to report that the Independent Commission Against Corruption was investigating a controversial land auction. They did not name names, nor did they provide any details of the investigation, apart from the fact that the probe was taking place.

This case sets a very bad example for the future government. It also clearly demonstrates that if a particular power exists, then the government - however tolerant it may be - may use it against the media. It goes without saying that we are lobbying vigorously for the repeal of the relevant provision used against the "Ming Pao Three."

There is a clear and urgent need to bring forward meaningful changes to suspect laws in the very near future, to ensure that the law reform process can be completed well before 1997. The British government cannot shake off its moral responsibility, if the future administration uses existing powers to gag the press after 1997. It is now time for Governor Patten, as the last Governor of the colonial government, to demonstrate his commitment to the people of Hong Kong.

But what do the people of Hong Kong think? The Hong Kong Journalists Association and Radio Television Hong Kong are sponsoring a series of public opinion surveys to monitor media performance and freedom of speech in Hong Kong in the run-up to 1997.

The first survey was conducted in June this year. Of the 538 respondents surveyed, 46 percent felt that press freedom had increased over the past three years, while 31 percent felt it had decreased. Their views on the future, on the other hand, were bleak. Sixty percent thought there would be a decline in press freedom in the coming three years, while only 11 percent thought there would be an increase.

To many people, Hong Kong is an oasis of press freedom in the region. We do not want this oasis to turn into a mirage, which will disappear as 1997 approaches. Press freedom in Hong Kong may be an endangered species, but it is never too late to preserve and protect it from extinction.

To round off this speech, I would like to quote the last few lines of Ionesco’s play: "Now I’ll never become a rhinoceros....I’ll put up a fight against the lot of them, the whole lot of them! I’m the last man left, and I’m staying that way until the end. I’m not capitulating."

Fortunately, I am not the only one left. There are still many journalists in Hong Kong fighting this battle with the support of the public and the international community.