<<

Reuters Fellowship Paper, Oxford University THE NARROWING GAP:

How Kong media is inching towards the model

By Joyce Hor-Chung Lau

Michaelmas 2007 / Hilary 2008

2

The Narrowing Gap:

How media is inching towards the China model

By Joyce Hor-Chung Lau

March 2008 3

Introduction

When Hong Kong was handed from Britain to China under the concept of “one country, two systems,” a unique experiment began into whether a city could maintain an outspoken media and other hallmarks of a free society while technically under the jurisdiction of a Communist

Party-ruled state.

Since 1997, Hong Kongers have continued to enjoy the freedoms of speech, demonstration and movement not granted to residents of , while Hong

Kong’s judiciary, police and anti-corruption body operate independently of . Glitches or threats to this system can trigger mass street protests and critical media coverage, which would be forbidden on the other side of the border.

There are practical problems, however, with imposing strict perimeters on an industry as fluid and dynamic as the mass media, and with sustaining a “one country, two systems” of journalism. This paper will demonstrate how the wide gap between the two systems of journalism has begun to narrow in the last decade, with an emphasis on the Hong Kong side of that equation.

It would be too simple to view developments over the last decade as a black-and- white case of a large Communist country censoring a smaller struggling . The reality is a more complicated one of two journalistic cultures exploring, clashing and interacting. It has as much to do with business interests and technological development as it does with political ideology.

Before the , there was a clearer line between Mainland China’s overt state censorship and Hong Kong’s boisterous free press. There were different goals, motivations and rewards that determined how journalists and their bosses worked on a day-to-day basis. 4

On the Mainland, the media’s aim was to disseminate government information and promote patriotism; the state rewarded media that were “successful” in this task, and punished or censored those that were not. In Hong Kong, the media had a different goal: to make money.

It was not the state that meted out rewards and punishments, but the public, who decided with their pocketbooks. Only media that provided probing, critical, dynamic and interesting coverage could achieve the circulation and readership numbers needed to turn a profit and survive.

After the handover, this division became blurred. Mainland China’s economic boom brought about a generation of business-minded media owners eager to please potential customers, not just government officials. Meanwhile, Hong Kong, now a Chinese “Special

Administrative Region” (SAR), became more attuned to both the punishments Beijing meted out to journalists and the possible business opportunities with which the state could “reward” favoured media companies. The Communists became more capitalist, and the capitalists became more involved in the Communist regime.

Some threats to Hong Kong’s media can be linked directly to the Chinese or Hong

Kong governments. These include verbal threats from Chinese officials over the coverage of contentious issues and a proposed piece of legislation that could have curbed free speech.

Other problems, like self-censorship or financial pressures are more difficult to identify or quantify, but may contribute to what journalists say is an erosion of freedoms.

No study of Hong Kong media can be made without the acknowledgement of both serious rights abuses on the Mainland, as well as great strides the Mainland media has taken in the last decade to narrow the gap from that end of the spectrum. A detailed study of those vast issues, however, is beyond the scope of this paper, and will only be discussed in relation to the Hong Kong question. 5

The global significance of Hong Kong’s media and the problems it faces in a larger

Chinese context belies the city’s relatively small size. Hong Kong may act not only as an indicator, but also a catalyst, for media development in the world’s next rising superpower.

Historical Momentum

Hong Kong’s role as a political and journalistic foil to Mainland China is driven by 150 years of historical momentum. In order to understand the interplay between the two, one must first understand the roots of Hong Kong journalism during early colonial rule in the 19th century.

This is important because some critics have used past censorious actions by the

British colonial government to argue that Hong Kong never had a truly free press, and therefore is no more controlled now than it was before 1997. This argument is particularly popular among those with pro-Beijing alliances.

In 1874, Hong Kong became home to the world’s first modern, independent, Chinese newspaper to be opened by an ethnic Chinese 1 when Wang Tao, known as the “father of

Chinese journalism,” launched Tsun Wan Jih Bao. 2 It was followed by Shang Bao and

Zhongguo Ribao, 3 which was run by Sun Yat-sen’s revolutionaries and reached out to both

Mainland Chinese and overseas Chinese readers. 4

1 C.K. Lau, Hong Kong’s Colonial Legacy: A Hong Kong Chinese’s View of the British Heritage, Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press, 1997, 153. 2 The newspaper’s name in modern Mandarin would be Xunhuan Ribao, meaning “Circulation Daily” or “Circulation Newspaper.” 3 The name means “,” though it should not be confused with the current Beijing- controlled newspaper of the same name. 4 Steve Tsang, A Modern , Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2004, 74-78 6

“Hong Kong and its Chinese-language newspapers provided a convenient, safe and free venue for conducting the important debates on the direction China should follow towards the end of the imperial era.” 5

In 1903, The added an English-language newspaper to the mix,6 giving local expatriates and other foreigners access to local news.

In the 1920s, press censorship occurred as part of a larger government scheme to deal with a workers’ strike.7 In a pattern that would repeat itself in the post-colonial period, this attempt at denying basic rights caused a backlash that resulted in greater freedoms and political participation. The government “gradually changed the arbitrary way that many working-class [Hong Kong] Chinese had routinely been treated” once they realized that they

“were able to organize themselves to defend of even assert their rights.” 8

The government founded a public broadcaster based loosely on a BBC model in 1928; it became officially known as Radio Hong Kong in 1948 and later Radio Hong

Kong (RTHK).

It was at this time that China established what is now known as the “pro-Beijing press” in Hong Kong. Xinhua, the official state press agency, would operate as a de facto

Chinese embassy for about half a century of colonial rule.

Just before founded the People’s Republic of China in 1949, the Communists took control of the newspapers and in Hong Kong, the latter of which is still published.

5 Tsang, 75; the imperial era ended with the fall of the in 1912. 6 www.scmpgroup.com 7 Tsang, 97 8 Ibid, 101 7

Meanwhile, the Nationalists, or Kuomingtang, who would later go on to found a democratic , opened The Hong Kong Times, which is now out of print.9 For decades to come, Hong Kong newspapers’ political affiliations would be defined by a pro-Beijing / pro-Taiwan divide, with the “ideological identities” of various publications running “from the extreme right to the extreme left.” 10

Hong Kong media went through important changes during the and deviated even further from what was happening in Mainland China, where there was only state propaganda. In Hong Kong, newspapers thrived and the colonial government proclaimed press freedom a foundation for liberty. However, it still cracked down on press sympathetic to the Communists. During disturbances in Hong Kong from 1967 to 1970, dozens of journalists were jailed, three newspapers were barred temporarily from publishing, and five newspaper executives representing four firms were charged with sedition. 11

While these actions were minor compared to punishments meted out to Mao’s critics in Mainland China, it drew criticism, which indicates that Hong Kongers already had a basic concept of a free press.

A document from the U.K. Foreign and Commonwealth Office quotes Tony Elliot, the political advisor in Hong Kong during the 1967 riots, on how a heavy hand backfired in

Hong Kong. “The experience of the last six months has shown that interference with the press produces more violent reactions than anything else,” he wrote. 12

9 Carol P. Lai, Media in Hong Kong: Press Freedom and Political Change, 1967-2005, Abington, Oxfordshire: Routledge, 2007, 9 10 Ibid, 21 11 Ibid, 17 12 Ibid, 29 8

After the 1967 disturbances, RTHK was given its own independent news section. It was also during this time that other broadcasters, like Commercial Radio, set up news desks.

Wong Chi-keung, writing in “The RTHK I Know,” describes the period:

“Between 1967 and 1970, the attitude of the Hong Kong government in relation to her people changed subtly. This had a bearing on RTHK too. For instance, those officials who used to write news bulletins were transferred to the Government Information Services (GIS) and editorial responsibility was handed back to RTHK.” 13

In 1968, the Hong Kong Journalists Association (HKJA) was founded as a union to protect journalists’ rights. 14

Some say the city’s free press developed because of its British legacy. Others say it developed because of its struggle against British control at this time. In either case, for the remaining 40 years of colonial rule, there was no other conflict that caused the Hong Kong government to jail journalists, close newspapers or charge media bossses with sedition. By the 1970s, there was increased recognition of the importance of a free media.

Pre-handover Tensions

Two events galvanized greater interest in political and journalistic rights in the 1980s:

Negotiations leading up to the 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration, which determined how

Hong Kong would be handed back to Chinese rule, and the city’s shocked reaction to the killing of student demonstrators during the Tiananmen Square massacre in Beijing in 1989.

These events garnered worldwide interest, and therefore gave the Chinese government greater reason to be sensitive about how the uncontrolled Hong Kong press would cover them.

13 Lai, 160-170 14 www.hkja.org.hk 9

Many of the conflicts concerning journalists in the post-handover period had roots in this period.

It was at this time that Hong Kongers became “deeply frustrated” that they had been denied a right to participate in Sino-British talks that would determine their future. 15

Hong Kong journalists became more protective of their rights during this time, and made an effort to strengthen their numbers pre-emptively. The Hong Kong Journalist

Association (HKJA), for example, became more political. The 1980s and 1990s saw the development of journalism in Hong Kong, which was “primarily based on the U.S. model” and “the premise that was a right to freedom of expression and information.” 16

In 1995, a garment magnate, , opened , a popular pro- democracy paper. He invested H.K. $700 million, or about U.S. $90 million, to sustain losses for three years, ensuring that, even if advertisers pulled out for political reasons, the paper could be sustained for a year after the handover.

Hong Kong journalists working within the ’s borders felt little direct interference from Beijing at this time; however, there were worries about whether Beijing would be capable of preserving press freedoms in the future. Even after the Sino-British Joint

Declaration was signed, promising “one country, two systems” for half a century, there was concern that Beijing “did not really know what they had committed to maintain unchanged for 50 years.” 17

Beijing’s misunderstanding of the complexities of Hong Kong media and public sentiment was demonstrated in the early 1990s when the Chinese government tried to vilify

15 Tsang, 208 16 Lai, 149 17 Tsang, 227 10

Governor by calling him a “whore of the East” and “a criminal who would be condemned for a thousand generations.” 18 The terms’ exaggerated style, which called to mind the language and tone used in Maoist propaganda, backfired in a city accustomed to

Western-style media, and only emphasized the gap between Hong Kong and China. “The high-profile PRC [People’s Republic of China] propaganda attacks quickly turned Patten into

Hong Kong’s English hero. The PRC had badly miscalculated the reactions of Britain, the people of Hong Kong and the international media.”19

There was nothing Beijing could do about journalists working in a British colony, though it could put pressure on journalists crossing the border. After the Tiananmen Square massacre, China issued “Seven Guidelines of Reporting in China,” which limited Hong Kong reporters’ access to interviewees and their time allowed in the Mainland. Before, “Hong

Kong journalists had often been able to interview Mainland officials freely, by phone or in person.” 20 Hong Kong reporters were also subjected to “interrogation, detainment, confiscation of return-home permits and bans on entering the country.”21 22

China’s relation with Hong Kong media was marked by “a series of tirades by senior

Chinese officials in the 1990s.” 23 In 1996, Foreign Minister Qian Qichen conducted a rare interview with . 24 When asked if Hong Kongers could commemorate the massacre, he said “there would be limits to free speech in Hong Kong after 1997.” The

18 Edward A. Gargan, “Hong Kong Ruler Says Farewell to All That,” , 26 Jun, 1997 19 Tsang, 261 20 Daniel Kwan, “Crossing the Border,” The South China Morning Post, 6 Nov. 2003. 21 Lai, 153, quoting the HKJA 22 The return-home permit allows ethnic Chinese Hong Kongers to cross the border into the Mainland without a passport or visa. 23 Lai, 119 24 Kathy Chen, Urban C. Lehner and Marcus W. Brauchli, “China’s Foreign Minister Issues Warnings: Hong Kong Faces Curbing of its Political Freedom.” The Wall Street Journal, 16 Oct. 1996 11

media, he said, would not be able to “put forward personal attacks on the Chinese leaders.”

When asked whether the limits on criticism were set forth in the Basic Law that would serve as Hong Kong’s “mini-,” Qian said they were not based on law. This suggested that they could be determined by the state at will.

Also in 1996, Information Minister Zeng Jianghui told the Hong Kong-based Far

Eastern Economic Review that local media would not be allowed to do anything “harmful to

China.” “That’s different” to standard reporting, he said. “No country would allow that.” He suggested that, in terms of Taiwan coverage, Hong Kong journalists should follow the example of their colleagues on the Mainland, where Taiwan’s elections and democracy movement are still not widely covered today. Zeng echoed statements by , China’s top official on Hong Kong affairs, in saying that under future press laws, the advocacy of

“illegal viewpoints”, such as Taiwan independence, would be considered the same as an active attempt to put such views into effect. 25 These comments foreshadowed a debate in

2003 over proposed Article 23 legislation and whether reporting on an idea could be classified as a criminal act of treason, sedition, subversion or – in the case of Taiwan, which

Beijing regards as a run-away province – .

“I don’t want to create any illusions for you,” Prime Minister said to Hong

Kong journalists before the handover. “After 1997, it will not be possible for you to advocate two China, or one China and one Taiwan, or , or Taiwan independence… The press will not be allowed to do so. It is a different issue from press freedom.” 26

25 Bruce Gilly, “Hong Kong: Gag Order,” The Far Eastern Economic Review, 11 July 1996, 22 26 Lai, 83. Quote from “The Die is Cast #15,” Hong Kong Journalists Association 12

The idea that Chinese officials like Zeng, Qian or Li “imposed” restrictions on Hong

Kong journalists is not entirely correct. It would be more accurate to say they threatened or attempted restrictions, but did not entirely succeed. Taiwan elections and Tiananmen Square memorials continue to make the front pages of Hong Kong newspapers today; however, they might not with the same level of frequency or criticism than if threats had never been made.

The perimeter within which Hong Kong journalists had to work was very wide, especially compared to Mainland China, but a line had been drawn in the sand nonetheless.

Pressures from Beijing, though indirect, affected decision-making in newsrooms before 1997. In 1993, six journalists resigned from ATV after it refused to air a planned

Spanish documentary on the Tiananmen Square massacre. The same year, TVB purchased but did not air BBC documentaries about Mao Zedong and Chinese labour camps. In 1996, two Hong Kong television stations failed to purchase a follow-up to a British documentary,

“The Dying Rooms,” on Chinese orphanages. 27

TVB journalists were told to avoid certain language and images which might upset

Beijing. For example, they were asked to use a neutral term like “incident” instead of

“massacre” to describe the killings in and around Tiananmen Square in 1989. 28 Similarly, before the handover, The South China Morning Post’s editors were told to avoid the word

“massacre.” 29 TVB would not use the Taiwanese flag in graphics, the way it would with other flags. Trends that started in this time continued into the post-handover period. By 2001,

27 Glenn Schloss, “When You Talk Back Too Much,” The South China Morning Post, 16 June 2001 28 Schloss 29 Lai, 138 13

both ATV and TVB had formal policies about referring to the Taiwanese “leader,” and not

“president.” 30

Another incident brought press freedom to the forefront. In1993, Xi Yang, a financial reporter for the Hong Kong-based newspaper was arrested on the Mainland. Xi was later sentenced to 12 years imprisonment. His detention– like ’s, which will be mentioned later – is unfortunately only one of many similar incidents on the

Mainland. The problem is not specific to Hong Kong-based journalists, but extends to

Chinese journalists working for both Mainland and foreign press, including The New York

Times.

What is significant about Xi’s case was its timing in this tense pre-handover era.

Again, Beijing miscalculated Hong Kongers’ feelings towards the people they perceived as their own media and journalists, including recent Mainland immigrants like Xi. “It is unlikely that the Chinese authorities expected the outcry the case triggered in all walks of life in the colony.” 31

Ming Pao staff members held a 72-hour hunger strike and more than 2,000 people protested in the streets. Almost all of Hong Kong’s media outlets, with the exception of

Beijing-controlled organs, expressed strong opinions about this case.

In one editorial, Ming Pao sounds almost like it is directly addressing the Beijing government by explaining the way things are done. “It is normal practice for independent reporters in Hong Kong and the Western world to find out the truth for their leaders,” it

30 Schloss, quoting research from the HKJA. 31 Lai, 61 14

wrote.32 Later, a HKJA representative remarked that Xi had become a symbol for the struggle between “two systems.”33 Xi was released in early 1997.

As the HKJA became more political and began publishing regular reports of free press issues in 1993, a rival body was introduced to the city. In 1996, the Hong Kong

Federation of Journalists (HKFJ) opened with support from Mainland-controlled media, like

Wen Wei Po and Xinhua, as well as the public backing of property tycoons. Hong Kong media called it a “Beijing-aligned press association” 34 and “pro-China.” Chan Kin-ming, the

HKFJ’s first chairman, warned that if Hong Kong media workers followed their usual critical practices in covering Chinese politics, it would “overshadow the concept of ‘one countries, two systems’.” 35 In 2000, the HKFJ, along with the Hong Kong Executives Association and

11 newspapers – but not the HKJA – went on to found the Hong Kong Press Council, whose job it would be to monitor the media.

The two groups still have tight connections. Currently, Cheung Kwai-yeung, the head of training at RTHK, serves as both the Vice-Chairman of the HKFJ and the Vice-Chairman of the Press Council. In an interview, 36 he said the Press Council had come under fire.

“People sue us and accuse us of censorship.” He said the body’s main function was to rein in the paparazzi, pornography and invasions on privacy. “Gossip and unsubstantiated criticism sells. But journalism is different, because the public trusts you. Can we just appeal to the public’s lowest instincts to make money?” he said.

32 Translation from Lai, 70 33 Lai, 51 34 Gilly 35 Angela Li, “Call for End to Reporting Curbs,” The South China Morning Post, 13 July 1996. 36 The interview with Cheung Kwai-yeung was held 8 Jan 2008 at the RTHK headquarters in Hong Kong. It is translated from . 15

The Handover

Pan, Lee, Man and So 37 did a comparative study of how the handover on , 1997 was handled by three different media: Mainland China’s, Hong Kong’s and Taiwan’s. They see them as separate “discursive communities,” in which the media can use historically significant events to reinforce core societal values.

All three planned coverage months in advance and dedicated the majority of their manpower, news columns and airtime to it. There were two major differences: Coordination of the media in Hong Kong and Taiwan was done by independent companies; on the

Mainland, everything was handled by the governmental. Also, Hong Kong and Taiwan media had been detailing the tumultuous debates and conflicts leading up to the handover since the mid-1980s; the Mainland media had not, and were planning a “big splash” on Hong Kong’s reunification.

The Communist Party’s (CCP’s) coordination was impressive. CCTV, the state broadcaster, formed a “handover team” in 1996 and opened a special Hong Kong office in

March, 1997, involving 1,600 staff. In April, the CCP’s Propaganda Department organized a

“workshop” to brief 80 top Mainland newspaper editors. A month later, a similar event was held for broadcast journalists. In Hong Kong, there was no mobilization from a centralized political force. In fact, local media went out of their way to “shed off their ‘timid’ and ‘self- censorship’ images.”

The result was three vastly different viewpoints. Taiwan outright rejected the “one country, two systems” structure, largely because it did not want to become “reunified” itself.

37 Zhongdang Pan, Chin-Chuan Lee, Joseph Man Chan and Clement Y.K. So, “One Event, Three Stories: Media Narratives from Cultural China of the ,” Power, Money, and Media: Communication Patterns and Bureaucratic Control in Cultural China, Chin-Chuan Lee (ed.), Evanston, Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 2000, 271- 287 16

Mainland China portrayed an “ideologically and emotionally charged show of national festivity.” While it largely ignored events of the past two decades, it concentrated on the more distant story of the Opium Wars that led to Hong Kong’s cession and portrayed

“Western imperialists as villains.”

Hong Kong’s version of its colonial past was different, and the dominant narrative was of how a “barren fishing village” grew into an international business centre thanks to local hard-work and British efficiency, and despite scares like the Tiananmen Square massacre. Hong Kong’s reports reflected its residents “uncertainty and confusion” over their future under “one country two systems.” There was coverage of the democracy movement and the British legacy, which was portrayed with nostalgia. One image repeated in almost all media was of local crowds lining up to say good-bye to a teary Chris Patten.

According to Pan, Lee, et al, the handover went so smoothly that some Western media felt they were “robbed” of a dramatic story, and therefore put more emphasis on potential conflict than was warranted. The U.S. media, in particular, “harped pessimistically on Hong

Kong’s imminent erosion of democracy, press freedom, and human rights.”

Airwaves Cross the Border

More than a decade before the handover, Hong Kong television was already having a radical effect on Southern China, particularly Province and its capital, . The proximity of Hong Kong’s freer media, and the liberalizing effect it had on its Mainland media, may serve as an example of what is happening on a larger scale today throughout

China, particularly with the wide spread of the Internet. When China’s media began to open up in the 1980s, there was virtually no access to non-Mainland programming. What little that 17

got through was “spill-over” from Hong Kong to Guangdong, acting as “a puncture in

China’s shield of cultural protectionism.” 38

“Counterfeit” ideas got into China – and unflattering images of China got leaked to the rest of the world – mostly by television. The dangers of this technology first came to the attention of the authorities in 1989, when images of the Tiananmen Square crackdown were beamed around the world. The Mainland government temporarily forbade the use of in hotels. 39

Technically, cross-border television signal were banned. However, a study conducted in 1993 showed that 62.2 percent of surveyed Guangzhou residents had access to satellite dishes, nicknamed “woks,” and therefore banned Hong Kong television. 40

Guangzhou residents who had access to both Hong Kong and Mainland television were asked to rate the stations they watched the most. The top two, TVB Jade (56.4%) and

ATV Home (12.8%) were Hong Kong channels, while local channels like Zhujiang TV

(11.2%) and Guangzhou TV (6.1%) trailed behind. Only 5.3% preferred CCTV, which was known as the voice of the government. The exposure affected the viewers’ opinions of

Mainland television, which they rated inferior to Hong Kong television in every category:

Variety, production quality, factual reliability, entertainment value, as well as the programmes’ ability to express emotion, social trends and opinions.

The group with access to Hong Kong television were less satisfied with Mainland media than those who had no such access. Guangdong broadcasters had a new rival. It was competition from Hong Kong that motivated radio reform in Guangzhou in the 1990s.

38 Joseph Man Chan, “When Capitalist and Socialist Television Clash: The Impact of Hong Kong TV on Guangzhou Residents,” Power, Money, and Media, 246-270. 39 “China Subverted by Satellite,” The Economist, 30 Jan 1993 40 Man Chan 18

Guangzhou television tried copying Hong Kong “camera techniques, formats, genre, ideas, and management practices,” and began using more Hong Kong programmes “to prevent any larger share of the audience from drifting towards Hong Kong television”. Changes took on a political tone when “the Hong Kong factor,” was used as a rationale for Guangdong media bosses seeking greater reforms from the central authorities in Beijing. 41

In a tongue-in-cheek fashion, the Western press called Radio Guangzhou “the nearest thing to democracy in China.” Its dozen young reporters, armed with some of the earlier versions of the mobile telephone, had “taken a Communist propaganda machine and turned it into the voice of a city.” It was said to be China’s first 24-hour radio station and the first of offer both love advice and live phone-in programmes in which local cadres and officials are interviewed. The impetus was said to be competition from BBC and VOA; the city’s proximity to Hong Kong and its media; and the launch of the Hong Kong-based TV.

Some sources even say that, in terms of listeners and viewership, “Hong Kong television and radio stations [had] a bigger audience in Guangdong than at home. Newspapers from the

British colony circulate freely, making residents of the province [sic] as well informed as anyone in the world.” 42

Hong Kong broadcasts became even more attractive in 1992 -1993 after the Hong

Kong government did away with licensing laws that restricted the city’s two terrestrial stations, ATV and TVB, from broadcasting only in English and Cantonese, allowing for

Mandarin-language programming. 43 Even in the early 1990s, it was clear that an attempt to

41 Man Chan 42 “Chinese Radio Station Gives People News, Views, Rock and Roll,” , reprinted in The San Francisco Chronicle, 12 Aug 1992; Hong Kong is technically not a province, but a “Special Administrative Region.” 43 Tad Stoner, “Multilingual TV Set for New Year in Hong Kong,” The Hollywood Reporter, 15 Dec 1992 19

block all signals would be “pointless.” Foreign reporters noticed satellite dishes on sale not only in Guangdong, but also in Beijing and , sometimes in stores that showed STAR

TV on their screens. “There they are, the illegal dishes, impudently fixed to balcony after balcony. Commerce, it seems, has triumphed over censorship.” 44

Mak Yin-ting 45 of the HKJA still sees the Hong Kong catalyst working today, and believes the Chinese government is still not ready to entirely accept what has been happening for 20 years:

There is constant chasing back and forth. People put up ‘woks,’ so the Mainland government tries to censor the Hong Kong news coming over the border. If there is news they don’t want, an ad suddenly pops up in the middle of the programme. There is actually a staff of people who watch television 24- hours a day to do this. But sometimes, the person is slow, or tired or on break. Or sometimes, something they don’t want pops up unexpectedly. The Mainland audiences might see a snippet of it, or figure out the rest from context. The smarter ones figure out there is something that the government doesn’t want them to see.”

Cheung of the Federation of Journalists says the case goes beyond a Hong Kong influence on

Guangdong television:

“Everyone was secretly watching Hong Kong cable television. Similarly, people in Province were watching . They wanted better. They didn’t just want political announcements. They wanted more down-to-earth popular programming. The changes that started in broadcast then spread to newspapers.”

Hong Kong’s “capitalist television input” was initially seen as something “external and alien to the socialist system.” The clashing of two different television cultures resulted in a case of “metropolitan domination,” in which the party with “higher freedom and affinity will more readily result in one place dominating the other.” 46 Media ties between Guangdong and

44 “China Subverted by Satellite,” The Economist, 30 Jan 1993 45 The interview with Mak Yin-Ting was held in the Hong Kong Journalists Association offices in Hong Kong on 4 Jan. 2008. It is translated from the Cantonese. 46 Man Chan 20

Hong Kong have only become closer since the handover due to increased migration, as well as the fact that some Hong Kong broadcasters now legally show in both places, which will be discussed later in this paper. An estimated half-million people have moved legally from the

Mainland to Hong Kong since the handover; an additional half-million cross the border regularly as commuters in both directions; and 13.6 million Mainland tourists, or almost double Hong Kong’s resident population, visit the city every year. 47

Mak explains this migration’s impact on media:

“When Mainlanders move to Hong Kong, in time, they become Hong Kongers, too, and they absorb our culture and come to understand Hong Kong’s core values. That said, they might change our values, too… There are people who buy a big stack of Hong Kong newspapers every morning and sell them on the streets on the Mainland, mostly in and Guangdong. And when Mainlanders come down to Hong Kong, even if they are just tourists here for shopping, they will see something different. Maybe they will see a protest or walk past a newsstand.”

The Internet, a development that could not have been foreseen when the “one country, two systems” idea was conceived in the 1980s, has also allowed banned media reports from Hong

Kong and the rest of the world to enter the Mainland, despite attempts to firewall controversial sites. Web sites with the “.com.hk” suffix are technically blocked,48 however,

“some people know how to bypass the censors,” Mak says. “The Internet is changing everything. It’s low-cost, it can pass censors and it’s easy for everyone to access.”

Greater access to banned media by satellite or the Internet meant two things: On one hand, Mainland Chinese were getting more access. On the other hand, it gave the Chinese government more reason to fear and control the Hong Kong media. It is important to note that converging consumption does not mean necessarily mean converging production practices.

47 Joyce Hor-Chung Lau, “Mainland Accent Brings a New Tone to a Vibrant City,” The International Herald Tribune, 21 June 2007 48 Mak 21

Some Mainland Chinese might be viewing freer media, but that does not mean that freer media can be produced on the Mainland.

TV Crosses the Border, Legally

The broadcast industry is both growing and blurring the line between Hong Kong and the

Mainland. With restrictions, China has begun allowing some Hong Kong stations to broadcast legally into both place, offering what many in the media industry see as a potentially huge market for both viewers and advertisers.

Traditionally, Hong Kong had three commercial television stations:

(ATV), Television Broadcasts (TVB) and Cable TV. The city’s public broadcaster, Radio

Television Hong Kong (RTHK) has its own radio stations, and produces television programmes for other channels. All four bodies produce broadcasts in English, Cantonese and Mandarin. CNN also has its Asian headquarters in Hong Kong.

The launch of STAR TV in 1990 radically changed the media landscape. It began apolitically, by broadcasting sports and entertainment programmes across Asia; but even that was allowed only cautiously, after a brief delay caused by a lack of Hong Kong government guidelines on new satellite TV technology. The tycoon Li Ka-shing held a 50% stake, with the other half going to the Li-controlled . Li’s 25-year-old son, Richard

Li, was in charge of running it.

In October, the BBC used STAR as a launching pad for its first 24-hour news presence in Asia, declaring itself a new rival to CNN in the region, and calling Hong Kong the first step in a plan to go truly global in two years. 49 The move made headlines around the

49 Cotton Timerlake, “BBC Launches Television News Channel in Asia To Compete with CNN,” The , 14 Oct 1991 22

world. Critics welcomed what was seen as a boost to Asian television in terms of scope and quality. Richard Li said STAR would change a region in which most viewers had previously only had heavily regulated and censored channels. New satellite technology made it more difficult for governments to bar illegal reception. 50

Official Chinese frustration with the BBC move was clear in an article that appeared in Yangcheng Wanbao, a Guangzhou government newspaper:

“People cannot help asking why the BBC hates China so much as to regard China as its enemy... The BBC's decision to increase its broadcasts to China is aimed at nothing but stepping up its struggle for an omnidirectional spiritual and ideological invasion of a socialist country.”

Within a few months, in early 1992, STAR’s BBC broadcasts were banned in Beijing, where it had both English and Mandarin-language programmes, though it was mostly shown to foreigners in hotels. Some sources said it was because China, like Hong Kong before it, did not have regulations to deal with satellite TV and was inexperienced in the area. Others pointed out that even STAR’s music channel had Taiwanese singers singing about politics.

CNN, which had its transmissions blocked after the Tiananmen Square crackdown, was not affected this time. 51

In 1994 STAR removed the BBC World Service (now BBC World) entirely from its programming after the Chinese government threatened to block all access from the Mainland market if it did not do so. The move to pull the BBC was linked to the fact that the physical satellite used to send STAR’s signals was one-third owned by the Chinese government. 52 By

50 Peter Goodspeed, “Asian Censors Fear Spread of Satellite TV,” The Star, 8 Apr 1992 51 Andrew Browne, “STAR TV Banned from Hotels in Chinese Capital,” Reuters, 21 Jan 1992 23

the time, STAR was already partly in the hands of ’s , which bought it from Li Ka-Shing in two chunks, in 1993 and 1995.

Despite the political pressures, STAR was a financial success that outperformed predictions both in terms of advertising revenue and viewership, which reached 1.8 million households around Asia within a year of broadcasting. 53 By early 1993, that number had reached more than 11 million households in 38 countries, including 3.3 million in Mainland

China. Problems between China and the BBC did not dissuade major foreign companies from spending their advertising dollars on STAR’s access to the lucrative Asian market. 54 Today, it is an Asia-wide network with about 60 channels.

In the early 1990s, the BBC tried using Hong Kong and STAR as a stepping stone for becoming truly global and challenging CNN in the region. Ironically, the same sort of thinking was used in 1996 with the launch of the Mandarin-language, Hong Kong-based

Phoenix Television, which aimed to become the “Chinese CNN” when it became the first major broadcaster to show its programmes legally in all of , meaning Mainland

China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan.

Phoenix was founded by Murdock and Liu Changle, a former colonel who had worked for the People’s Liberation Army radio. Having clashed with the Mainland authorities over STAR and the BBC, Murdock now sought a partner in Liu, who had the government connections to keep the station “sweet with the Mainland authorities.” Phoenix

52 John Pomfret, “Scanning the Airwaves: Media Revolution Sweeping Asia: Satellite TV Presents Views Different from Those of Leaders,” The Associated Press, 9 Feb 1992. The other two-thirds of the satellite were owned by Cable & Wireless of Britain and Hutchison of Hong Kong. 53 Steve Glain, “Hong Kong-Based STAR TV Grows Up Fast,” The Asian Wall Street Journal, 29 May 1992 54 Christine Courtney, “A Star Rises in the East: Hong Kong-based STAR Television, the first pan-Asian network, has seen astounding growth,” The , 11 May 1993 24

grew quickly after the 1997 handover. In 2001, Phoenix’s InfoNews Channel became the first world’s first 24-hour Chinese-language satellite channel.

Phoenix’s first big political challenge, and some would say failure, happened with

SARS. On April 4, 2003, Jiang Yanyong, a retired surgeon at a Beijing military hospital, sent an e- to both CCTV and Phoenix accusing Health Minister Zhang Wenkang of lying about SARS. Jiang said that, within the hospitals he knew of personally, there had been more than 100 infections and six deaths. 55 Neither station followed up on the e-mail, but it was leaked to Time magazine, whose online report was translated, e-mailed across China, and caused “national outrage” at Beijing’s cover-up. 56

In Hong Kong, Phoenix came under fire for not reporting the story. The South China

Morning Post drew a direct connection between free press and profitability and warned that unless Phoenix became more serious about speaking openly, it would not survive financially in the Hong Kong market:

“Television companies on the mainland will not be successful if they cannot even recognise SARS as a breaking story…. when considering the business model of Phoenix TV, a station that has cultivated an image for itself on the Mainland as somewhat daring and Westernised compared with the competition. Phoenix reported a loss of HK$199.7 million for last year and the station's hopes of a brighter future rest firmly with its new 24-hour news channel: InfoNews.” 57

The SCMP quoted analysts as saying that InfoNews was “unlikely to be a huge winner anytime soon.”

A few months later, Phoenix became the only non-governmental station to broadcast the mass democracy protests to a Mainland audience, though in a limited way. As a Hong

Kong-based broadcaster aimed at a Mainland audience, Phoenix is different from either local

55 John Pomfret, “SARS: The China Syndrome” , 17 May 2003. 56 David Robinson, “Iron Hand Maintaining Strong Grip on Phoenix,” The South China Morning Post, 15 May 2003. 57 Robinson 25

Hong Kong stations or state-run Mainland stations; its political coverage is half-way in the middle. It was not as free as Hong Kong media was in reporting on SARS, but it was freer than Mainland media in reporting on protests and public discontent with potentially censorious legislation connected to Article 23 of Hong Kong’s Basic Law.

Phoenix has continued to succeed, thanks to its international news coverage and reach. “China’s CNN” now reaches 140 million viewers in China, 18 million in the United

States and opened a new operation in in 2007. 58

The next major television development came when NOW TV, a satellite television provider that previously had no editorial operations, launched a 24-hour business channel in

March 2006 and 24-hour news channel in October 2007, both of which are in Cantonese. It also provides a live feed to the Hong Kong Legislative Council’s debates. NOW is controlled by PCCW, the telecommunications giant run by Richard Li, Li Ka-shing’s son who had been in charge of STAR in its infancy. For the time being, it is broadcasting the same business coverage on both sides of the border, but not showing political news on the Mainland. “Our business coverage can be viewed on the Mainland. But all the news is cut,” said NOW News

Editor Annie Lai-king. 59 “Maybe you can see it in certain luxury hotels that have

Hong Kong subscriptions, or if you have set up your own satellite dish at home,” Cheng said, demonstrating that that particular practice is still commonly used in Southern China, more than two decades after it began.

58 Joanne Lee-Young, “Phoenix TV Lands in Vancouver,” The Vancouver Sun, 28 Jan 2008 59 The interview with Annie Cheng Lai-king was held in the NOW newsroom in Hong Kong on 9 Jan 2008. It is translated from Cantonese. 26

The Taiwan Test

The best way to assess differences between the two systems of journalism is to compare coverage of major news events like the Taiwan elections, SARS epidemic and Hong Kong protests.

The first big test for Hong Kong media after the handover was Taiwan’s presidential elections in 2000. Hong Kong covered it in a way that was more consistent with its old ways, and less in line with the ways of Mainland media. Even the government-funded broadcaster,

RTHK, played a live relay of President Chen Shui-bian’s inauguration, and continues to cover Taiwan’s democratic elections to this day.

In comparison, Mainland residents had “only a vague idea about the 13 years of democratic reforms in Taiwan.” 60 There was little coverage, and many Mainland Chinese were “convinced” by the press that “war with the island was imminent.” It was only after

Taiwan’s Vice President-elect, Annette Lu, spoke about independence in the Hong Kong media that Xinhua reacted, calling her “scum of the Chinese nation.” 61

Despite pressure from Mainland officials to toe the line on the Taiwan issue, “Hong

Kong media were far from cooperative.” 62 However, there was still a subtle shift away from outwardly pro-Taiwan coverage; Ming Pao and Sing Tao newspapers had given up their pro-

Taiwan views by this time and “shifted from an anti-CCP [] position to a pro-CCP/CCP-friendly one.” And while the SCMP “carried upfront reports on

60 Lai 113 61 Robert J. Saiget, “Beijing Slams Taiwan Vice President as ‘Scum of the Nation’,” Agence France-Press, 8 April 2000. 62 Lai 117, 156 27

Sino-Taiwanese tensions, it nevertheless appeared unable to criticise China’s reunification policy on Taiwan openly.”

In essence, Hong Kong media were far freer than the Mainland’s, but were still hounded and not as free as they could have been.

Hong Kong’s Year of Discontent

The SARS epidemic, potentially censorious legislation, and large pro-democracy protests drew the world’s attention to Hong Kong in 2003. All three major news stories were media related: SARS was the topic that most starkly demonstrated the gaping chasm between

Mainland and Hong Kong media. The proposed legislation, which was related to Article 23 of the Basic Law, was seen as one that could be used to crack down on journalists. And the protests were spurred on by active campaigning by Apple Daily and were largely related to

Article 23.

China’s cover-up of the SARS crisis – and the fact that most Mainland residents were unaware they were in the middle of an epidemic for months – followed a predictable pattern of Mainland censorship and was widely reported internationally. Meanwhile, had the same access to information as the rest of the world, including WHO reports critical to China. The difference between the two was so stark and well documented that it does not need repeating here.

What is more telling is the way Hong Kong journalists tried to fill the gap left by the

Mainland media, and how they behaved differently when they were on different sides of the border, even if they were reporting for the same Hong Kong media outlets. “The Hong Kong news media were struggling to fulfil their duty as a watchdog as well as being a Chinese 28

institution” 63 and had “a significant impact on Mainland Chinese people, particularly those living in the vicinity of the and the southern who had ready access to Hong Kong TV and radio broadcasts.” 64

According to Mak of the Journalists Association, “with SARS, the differences were very clear,” between what Hong Kong journalists covered in Hong Kong, and what they covered on the Mainland. In Hong Kong, “we pushed and forced information out of officials.

It was the media that demanded to know where the outbreaks were, down to the exact buildings.” However, with a few exceptions, “there was very little independent investigative reporting by Hong Kong journalists working in Mainland China. It was a combination of can’t and won’t.” Hong Kong journalists reporting on the Mainland reverted to Mainland practices and “just reported the information they were given.”

Some Hong Kong media drew a connection between China’s SARS cover-up and

Article 23. “The SARS crisis has helped demonstrate the implications of anti-subversion legislation. It reveals… the risks associated with concepts of state secrets and national security that are too broadly based.” This SCMP editorial implies that Hong Kong politicians had tried to take advantage of the diversion SARS created to sneak the legislation through without proper public debate. 65

In July 2003, just after the end of the SARS epidemic, an estimated half-million Hong

Kongers marched against the proposed legislation and demanded both and the resignation Chief Executive Tung Chee-hwa, who was appointed by a pro-Beijing council.

63 Lai, 137 64 Lai 187 65 “Outbreak Has Stifled Debate on Article 23,” The South China Morning Post, 18 April 2003 29

Apple Daily and Commercial Radio crossed the line into activism by promoting the march. Taxis taped Apple Daily stickers to their windows to advertise the demonstration. On the day, protesters held placards printed with the logo for Apple Daily. 66 Jimmy Lai, that paper’s founder, wrote a first-person article in the Wall Street Journal about how he personally took place in the march. 67

The proposed legislation was almost immediately withdrawn, and the bill was postponed indefinitely on July 9. However, Article 23 of the Basic Law stipulates that, at some point, Hong Kong will have to enact legislation dealing with the issues of subversion, secession and state secrets, so the larger issue till hangs over Hong Kongers’ heads.

Though China had promised more open reporting after having to apologize for its

SARS cover-up, it reverted to its censorious ways when it came to the Hong Kong demonstrations advocating free elections and criticizing Article 23 legislation. “Hong Kong's public opinion instantly reached every corner of the world, with the exception of its motherland,” wrote the Chinese-language Hong Kong Economic Journal, which reported that

Mainland China had cut all television signals from Hong Kong. The Journal also drew connections between China’s SARS cover-up and potential problems with the proposed legislation. 68

A month after the Article 23 debate, the Hong Kong government became involved in yet another media controversy when it issued a warning against radio talk-show host Albert

Cheng Kin-hon at about the same time that his station’s license was about to expire. Cheng, known for hosting “Teacup in a Storm” on Commercial Radio, became something of a media

66 Peter Lim, “Hong Kong Media Urges Government to Respond to Mass Protests,” Agence France-Presse, 2 July 2003. The taxi stickers were own observation. 67 Jimmy Lai, “Sending a Message to Beijing,” The Asian Wall Street Journal, 10 July 2003 68 Bao Tong, “Three Suggestions on Breaking the Deadlock over Article 23 Legislation,” Hong Kong Economic Journal, 7 July 2003, translation by the BBC World Service 30

hero after being attacked by butcher-knife-wielding assailants and almost dying from his wounds in 1998. The attackers were never caught, though it should be noted that Cheng, who was best known for criticizing officials and tycoons, had been Lai’s mentor before he set up

Apple Daily.

In an article published in Apple Daily, Cheng wrote about the government warning again him: “I have been threatened by the triads, sued in a libel case, and badly assaulted.

Never have I experienced such intimidation. The worst thing is I don’t even know where I can see justice done.” 69 Tens of thousands wrote to the Broadcasting Authority to complain and the license was renewed.

In the end, one could argue that Hong Kong media survived 2003: SARS, including criticism of China’s cover-up, was reported; potentially censorious legislation was withdrawn; and kept his show. However, the repeated threats left questions about Hong

Kong’s future.

Crowded Newsstands

If one took a look at a typical Hong Kong newsstand in 1997 -- or 2007 -- one might come to the conclusion that media is colourful, crowded, changeable and largely unregulated, much like the city itself. Various sources count anywhere from 15 to 50 newspapers in this city of 7 million, though the latter figure is said to include marginal publications. 70 In 2007, the

HKJA officially recognized 16 local daily newspapers on its website. 71 These papers -- 14 of which are in Chinese and 2 of which are in English -- cover a wide political range. On the

69 Carol Lai, 158 70 Joseph M. Chan and Francis L.F. Lee, “Mass Media and Public Opinion,” Contemporary Hong Kong Politics: Governance in the Post-1997 Era, Ed. Lam Wai-man et al., Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007 71 www.hkja.org.hk 31

far left are papers like the Beijing-controlled Wen Wei Po. On the other side of the political spectrum is Apple Daily, whose scathing criticism and sensational metro news has kept it going. 72 73 Oriental Daily and Apple have the highest circulation numbers. Ming Pao is the best-selling quality broadsheet. 74 The top English-language paper is still The South China

Morning Post.

Hong Kong also houses the Asian newsrooms of international newspapers like The

Wall Street Journal, The and The International Herald Tribune, with the latter two expanding their Hong Kong operations in the last five years. There are also a large number of magazines and journals, from gossip weeklies to the serious Far Eastern Economic

Review.

Some of the boldest reporting on Mainland affairs has come from smaller, independent Hong Kong magazines. One example is Frontline (Qian Xiao), which is banned in the Mainland.

In late 2000, – a Mainland journalist who had worked at the Wen Wei

Po in , Liaoning Province, but who also contributed to Frontline in Hong Kong -- was arrested after being charged with revealing state secrets, Frontline said. This came after Jiang wrote two articles under a pen-name in Frontline, in which he said Bo Xilai of

Liaoning Province had covered up corruption among officials.75 76 Bo later became China’s

72 Carol Lai, 164 73 In China, the terms “left-wing” and “right-wing” have different – almost opposite -- meanings than they do in the West. “Left-wing” refers to a pro-Communist, and therefore pro-establishment and pro-Beijing government stance. “Right-wing” refers to a pro- democracy and more Western approach. 74 Wen Wei Po, Apple Daily, Oriental Daily and Ming Pao are written in Chinese. 75 “Reporter Jailed for Four Years for Stories About Corruption in China,” The Associated Press, 27 June 2001. 76 John Pomfret, “One Corrupt City Reflects Scourge Plaguing China,” The Washington Post, 6 March 2002 32

commerce minister. Jiang was given early release in 2006, though he was “deprived of political rights” and barred from speaking to other journalists. Jiang’s exposés were also credited with being a factor in the downfall of Ma Xiangdong, a vice major of Shenyang,

Liaoning’s capital. 77

In 2004, Frontline wrote about corruption among officials in , a major city near

Beijing. The U.S.-based Chinese Information Center reported 78 that Tianjin’s liason office in

Hong Kong had tried to buy up all copies of the offending issue. A VOA reporter was quoted in saying he could only find one copy of the magazine, which has a normal circulation of

10,000. Frontline said it could not substantiate the reported buy-out.

In 2005 – when Jiang Weiping was still in prison – Ching Cheong, a Mainland-born,

Hong Kong-based journalist for the -based Straits Times, was charged with

“spying” while working on the Mainland in 2005. As with Xi Yang before him, Ching’s detention itself was in keeping with the way China treats Mainland-born journalists, regardless of whether they work for domestic, Hong Kong or foreign media. Again, the significance was not Beijing’s action itself, but the fact that Hong Kongers felt the need to rally publicly around him, even though he was neither born in Hong Kong nor worked for a

Hong Kong media outlet.

The HKJA and Reporters Without Borders sent a petition with 13,000 names to

President . In 2006, 35 Hong Kong legislators, including some from the pro-Beijing wing, signed an open letter asking for Ching’s release. He was set free in early 2008.

77 Benjamin Kang Lim, “Jailed China Journalist Wins Early Release,” Reuters, 4 Jan 2006. 78 , reprinted in , 20 April 2004 33

Self-Censorship and Public Perception

When asked in an interview about NOW TV’s perceived pro-democracy, Cheng, a former

TVB journalist who started working in 2005 to prepare for NOW’s launch, said she and her staff had a free rein:

“Richard Li does not interfere with our coverage. He doesn’t tell us his opinions on the government or on policy. He does not attend news meetings. He doesn’t call me. After all, if the boss goes around slapping your hand all the time, in the end, it just hurts your coverage. That sort of behaviour encourages journalists to take sides in advance, even before they’ve done their reporting.”

When asked about censorship, Cheng’s first reaction was to answer from a corporate point of view. When asked again specifically about Hong Kong government censorship, she said there was no direct pressure. However, she described what she called a “different sense of spirit” among journalists working for all newspapers and TV stations, not just NOW. She described a certain ambivalence:

“Before 1997, we didn’t accommodate anyone. After 1997, we accommodate a little bit. If someone important is imprisoned on the Mainland, we would report it now as we would then. But you also have to look at how much we would report it and how much attention it might get.”

Cheng dismissed the notion that all pro-Beijing coverage was a result of official pressure or censorship. “We are definitely moving towards more positive news about the Mainland. That may be a reflection of genuine improvements on the Mainland, economic or otherwise,” she said. On the other hand, she also did not dismiss the possibility that pressures existed.

“Nobody wants grandpa yelling at them,” she said, adding that Hong Kong had no “rebel” or

“dissident” television news station. She concluded that:

“It might not be so simple as black and white censorship. It might not be a deliberate decision by a journalist not to report one specific fact. But if your larger environment 34

changes, content will, too. We all know, in the back of our minds, that we are a Communist-controlled city and no longer a colony.”

In 2007, the Hong Kong Journalists Association published a survey that showed that journalists and the general public had different views of whether the media was freer or more censored.79

When asked if they thought Hong Kong had more press freedom now, as compared to before the handover, only 12% of journalists said yes and 58% said no. However, when the general public was asked, 31% percent said yes and 27% said no. Generally speaking, journalists think there is less press freedom under Chinese rule, compared to British rule, while the general public are not so sure. (In both groups, 30-40% said they did not know or declined to answer).

Journalists and the general public also differed on another question. When asked to compare the SAR government with the British colonial government in terms of releasing information to the media, 26% of journalists said the current government was “more open” and 30% said it was “less open.” However, 46% of the general public said the current government was “more open” and 24% said it was “less open.” So, the general public feels the Chinese-Hong Kong government is more open than the colonial one, but journalists are not so sure. (In both groups, 19-20% said the situation was the same; 24% of journalists and

9% of the general public said it was “hard to tell”).

What could cause these discrepancies? Perhaps it is because journalists know something the public do not, or because political pressure is invisible and internal (i.e. self- censorship) instead of blatant and external (police raids, jailings, etc).

79 “Survey on Press Freedom in Hong Kong,” Hong Kong Journalists Association and the Public Governance Programme, Lingham University, Hong Kong. The survey was conducted in Hong Kong on Jan. 2007. Of the 1,240 respondents, 506 were Hong Kong-based journalists and 734 were members of the general public. 35

Of journalists surveyed, 40% said their colleagues and supervisors had practiced self- censorship in the last 12 months, compared to 21% who said they saw no self-censorship during this time and 39% who said they didn’t know; 29.5% admitted to practicing self- censorship themselves.

Mak of the HKJA backed up her organization’s findings that self-censorship was practiced by anywhere from a quarter to a third of Hong Kong journalists:

“You always have to ask, ‘What’s more important? The one country or the two systems? Journalism is not a black and white matter. It is a cultural matter, and it is hard to measure things like expression or intension. We all know the handover has taken place. We all know we are now ‘one country.’ So we all auto-adjust. You see your boss adjusting, your colleagues adjusting, and there will inevitably be an effect when you put your own pen to paper.”

Lai drew a connection between self-censorship and pressure from media owners or management. “Reporters learn what their bosses want and write accordingly. The bosses (the sub-editors and editors) then fine-tune pieces, because they in turn know what the media owners require of them, so self-censorship is subtle and comes with the job.” 80

A Hong Kong study published in 2007 described local media outlets as “frequently critical towards the government.” It also said media “effectively shape public opinion;” and

“constitute the most important public space in Hong Kong.” 81 It quotes a 2001 poll 82 that found that more than three-quarters of Hong Kong journalists regarded “monitoring the government” and “reflecting public opinion” as important functions. The study interpreted these findings are meaning that Hong Kong journalists held onto a “liberal democratic

80 Lai 144-145 81 Chan and Lee in Contemporary Hong Kong Politics, 155. 82 Chan and Lee quote a survey by Chan and Clement Y.K. So, “The Surrogate Democracy Function of the Media: Citizens’ and Journalists’ Evaluation of Media Performance” in Siu- kai Lau, Ming-kwan Lee, Po-san Wan and Siu-lun Wong (eds.) Indicators of Social Development: Hong Kong 2001, Hong Kong Institute of Asia-Pacific Studies, The Chinese , 2003. 36

conception of the press” in which “a diverse range of opinions compete with each other.”

However, the authors admit that these ideals are “complicated by various factors”.

Business Pressures

With the exception of RTHK and maybe some state-run mouthpieces, the majority of Hong

Kong’s media are profit-minded commercial enterprises, many of which are publicly traded.

There are four major issues: Fewer media bosses controlling more outlets; more media bosses with Mainland business interests; more media bosses sitting on Mainland governmental bodies; and an increasing desire to tap into the Mainland’s booming consumer market.

Concerns about collusion, conglomerates, business interests, owner interference and advertising dollars are not unique to post-handover Hong Kong; they have existed for decades, and still do in every free market in the world.

“People today complain about business links between Mainland China and the Hong

Kong media, but before, it was business links between British firms and the Hong Kong media,” said Cheung of the Federation of Journalists. “British executives had very close connections to publishers.”

Cheung is right that the desire to buy political favour can be colour-blind. Li Ka-shing is often said to have played up his links with the Chinese authorities. But in 1991, Li, who had just founded STAR, threw a private cocktail party for Prime Minister John Major during a trip to Hong Kong and gave the Conservative Party of Britain a donation believed to be about 100,000 pounds. 83 Later, when Murdoch took over STAR, he bent to official pressure from Beijing. Here was an example of a Chinese trying to appease a Western government, and a Westerner trying to appease the Chinese government.

83 “Chinese Tycoon Latest Donor to Tory Party,” , 22 Sept 1991. 37

However, one cannot draw a parallel to the way these pressures work in current-day

Hong Kong and the way they work in the longstanding of Western or

North America. There, the media operate in an environment with an engrained understanding of free speech principles and popularly chosen governments with built-in check and balances.

In contrast, the business pressures put on Hong Kong journalists must be seen in the context of rule by a state run by a single Communist Party. A media boss who has connections to, say, a U.S. congressman is different than a media boss who sits on a Mainland Chinese government body, because the former is held accountable to the public and the latter is not.

Li’s donation to the Tories was openly reported, questions and criticized in the British press in a way that would never have happened in Mainland China, especially in 1991.

Beijing’s attempts to control Hong Kong media through economic means long pre- dates the handover, and was first noticed in the 1980s. Lam Hang-chi, then owner of Hong

Kong Economic Journal, said that “during Sino-British negotiations, China-funded organizations boycotted Hong Kong Economic Journal and did not place advertisements in the paper, saying that the paper’s editorial board was ‘pro-British’.” 84

Pressure increased after the Tiananmen Square massacre. “After 1989, there was a blacklist of [Hong Kong] newspaper organizations. China-funded and pro-China companies stopped placing advertisements with them, so as to penalise those who were regarded as

‘subversive’ or critical on the student movement.’ ” 85 Apple Daily has never had the support of Mainland-official-linked advertisers, and its ad revenues have seen palpable drops after particularly critical public remarks or acts by its founder, Jimmy Lai. 86 In particular, Li Ka-

84 Carol Lai, 162 85 Ibid,132 86 Jesse Wong, “Ad Pullout Takes a Bite Out of Lai’s Publications,” The Asian Wall Street Journal, 23 Sept 1999 38

shing’s related businesses have kept out of Apple, though companies related to Li’s son,

Richard Li, have not. 87

As mentioned above, Liu Changle, who co-founded Phoenix in 1996, was a former

PLA colonel. But Liu is also one of the directors of another station, ATV. Plus, Phoenix

InfoNews is one of the channels carried by Cable TV. It is also carried on the STAR network, which is owned by Murdoch, who co-founded Phoenix with Liu. This is one example of how one media boss can have influence, direct or not, on separate companies that the public sees as being competitive. What looks like a wide variety of media outlets might not be as diverse at it first appears.

There is also the issue of media outlets with other business interests. For example,

Cable TV is owned by i-CABLE, which also provides Internet services. One of the

“milestones” listed on its corporate website 88 is the fact that it became the first Hong Kong content provider to service “China’s massive mobile phone market” in 2005. While the majority of i-CABLE’s directors and senior management do not have direct links to the

Chinese government, at least one does. Property tycoon Gordon Y. S. Wu, an independent non-executive director since 2001, has been a member of the Chinese People’s Political

Consultative Conference (CPPCC) since 1983. That said, he was also knighted by Britain in

1997; like many tycoons, he was happy to keep up alliances with both Hong Kong’s former and current rulers.

“The ownership problem is big. More than half of the big bosses at major newspapers are either NPC [National People’s Congress] or CPPCC members,” Mak of the HKJA said.

One example is Charles Ho Tsu-Kwok, who has been the chairman and executive director of

87 Frederick Yeung, “Next Media Suffers from Ad Boycott,” The South China Morning Post, 7 May 2007 88 “Milestones,” www.i-cablecomm.com 39

Sing Tao newspaper since 2000, and is a member of the Standing Committee of the CPPCC and a consultant to Provincial Government. He is also an independent non- executive director of China National Aviation and China Petroleum and Chemical Corp.89

The influence of this newspaper is not limited to Hong Kong: Sing Tao has 16 overseas editions sold all over the world. It also publishes , the only other English- language daily in Hong Kong aside from the SCMP.

Ming Pao and the SCMP both have Malaysian-Chinese owners who cannot sit on

Chinese political bodies because of their nationality, but who have major pan-Asian business interests. Since 1995, Ming Pao has been owned by Tiong Hiew King, who made his fortune in the timber industry. In April 2007, Tiong merged the three newspaper groups he owned:

Ming Pao and two from , Sinchew and Nanyang. The Singaporean press reported that media watchdogs had criticized the move, saying that “the concentration of ownership would curb competition and threaten press freedom.” In the same article, one of the company’s directors said the merger would “allow the group to boost its presence in China.”

90

Even before the merger, “the impact of the Malaysian Chinese businessman/proprietor on MPDN [Ming Pao Daily News] can be demonstrated more confidently. The evidence of the paper’s selection of news topics, news angle and even choice of questions to election candidates all point the same way, that is, the paper has completed adopted China’s viewpoint on the Taiwan issue… Media owners, rather than

89 “2005 Directors and Senior Management Report” www.singtaogroup.com 90 “China Media Giant Takes Shape in Malaysia,” TODAY (Singapore), 24 April 2007 40

professional journalists exerted increasing control over the editorial position” in the post- handover period. 91

In 1993, Murdoch sold his controlling stake in the SCMP to , a

Malaysian-Chinese with major investments on the Mainland, particularly through Shangri-La

Hotels and the Kerry Group. Under the direction of Robert’s son, Eun Kuok, the SCMP was perceived as having “shifted from a pro-British establishment position to a China-friendly one.” 92

There were several cases of outspoken or independently minded senior journalists who left the SCMP after the handover to the Kuoks: Editor Jonathan Fenby in 1996, China

Editor Willy Lam in 2000, Opinion Page Editor Danny Gittings in 2001 and Chief China

Correspondent Jasper Becker in 2002.

Lam wrote about a trip that Kuok and other tycoons took to Beijing, where Mainland officials pressured them to support the unpopular Tung Chee-hua for a second term as chief executive; the implication was that these businessmen were trading political favours for controlled coverage. Kuok’s response was unusually transparent; he wrote letter-to-the-editor to his own paper about it. Lam was not fired, as is sometimes reported, but was harassed until he resigned. His work was given to another editor for vetting, and he was demoted from being China editor to a lower position. 93

Gittings was one of the 115 journalists who signed a letter of protest regarding Lam.

Gittings also made waves when he pressed for the serialization of The Tiananmen Papers, which were banned in Beijing but allowed in Hong Kong. After some debate, the paper went

91 Carol Lai, 114-115 92 Ibid, 157 93 Jonathan Fenby, “Muzzling the Media: Life in China’s Shadow,” The Globe and Mail, 11 Nov. 2000 41

ahead with it. However, when a group of journalists were later cut for budget reasons,

Gittings was among them. 94

Becker’s dismissal for “insubordination” was the most widely reported in the international media. He was sacked after commenting that the paper was restricting his reporting and downplaying coverage on AIDS and labour disturbances on the Mainland. 95

Becker’s own explanation was that management of the paper’s Mainland bureaux had been transferred from the Foreign Ministry to the more locally focused Hongkong [sic] and Macau

Affairs Office, which did not want Westerners reporting on China for a Hong Kong newspapers; ethnic Chinese, whether Mainland or Hong Kong, were seen to be easier to control. In additional, direct reporting on controversial issues like Tibet or the were left to the wire services, so the SCMP did not look like it was doing the investigating itself. 96

Fight on the Airwaves

Two radio-related controversies made headlines in 2007 - 2008: The Hong Kong government announced a consultation on that critics interpreted as a step towards dismantling RTHK. Then several activists and a dissident lawmaker founded Citizen’s Radio, thereby posing a constitutional challenge to the city’s broadcast laws. 97

The fight over RTHK’s independence began after the signing of the Sino-British Joint

Declaration. In 1985, the colonial Hong Kong Broadcasting Review Board recommended that

94 Jonathan Fenby, “Post Stripped: The Decline of a Hong Kong Institution,” The Asian Wall Street Journal, 2 May 2002 95 Philip P. Pan, “Journalist is Fired after China Remarks,” The Washington Post, 5 May 2002 96 Jasper Becker, “Why I Was Fired in Hong Kong,” The Washington Post, 4 May 2002 97 Yvonne Tsui and Jimmy Cheung, “Judge Refuses to Block Radio Broadcasts,” The South China Morning Post, 22 Jan. 2008. 42

RTHK be made entirely independent of the government, but the move was delayed and finally blocked by the Chinese side of the Joint Liaison Group in 1992. “I think our golden opportunity for RTHK was in the 1980s when Hong Kong was the most open. We could say anything freely,” Mak said, adding that the Joint Liason group “failed us.” 98 The Hong Kong

Legislative Council responded to the 1992 decision by passing a motion defending the broadcaster’s editorial freedom after its director, Cheung Man-yee, warned against turning it into a “government mouthpiece.” 99

RTHK came under fire from Mainland officials, particularly after the handover. In

1998, Xu Simin criticized RTHK's programming as “anti-government.” In 1999, Wang

Rudeng, a Xinhua official, criticized RTHK for giving airtime to a Taiwan representative,

Cheng An-kuo, and allowing him to suggest that China and Taiwan were separate states. Ma

Lik, who later became a pro-Beijing member of the Hong Kong Legislature, also criticized

RTHK for this programme. “It is not a matter of press freedom,” he said. 100 Ma asked the government to “issue guidelines” to RTHK to prevent it from referring to Taiwan’s

“president”, using the more neutral title of “leader” instead.

The government responded that “it is not our practice to issue guidelines to RTHK regarding its news reporting” and RTHK continued to use “president”. 101 However, the

Taiwan controversy led to Cheung Man-yee’s transfer to Tokyo after 13 years as the head of

98 Mak spent many years working for RTHK. 99 Justin Mitchell, “Tuning in to Programming Rows Spanning Two Decades,” The Standard (Hong Kong) 28 Sept. 2006 100 Kong Lai-fan, “RTHK Blasted by Xinhua Chief for Taiwan Broadcast,” The South China Morning Post, 7 Aug. 1999. 101 Lai,171 43

RTHK. In an interview with The Standard, she said she had been under “political pressure” during her tenure. 102

In 2001, Wen Wei Po Po criticized RTHK because one of its presenters implied that

Tibet was a country.

RTHK currently operates under a “framework agreement” with the Hong Kong

Secretary for Information Technology and Broadcasting, though the agreement is open to change by the administration, as this framework is not set in legislation. “Unlike the BBC,

RTHK has neither the solid guarantee of constitutional protection, nor the 12 members of the board of appointed by the Queen on the advice of ministers.” 103

The current controversy stems from a 2006 report stating that Beijing had asked Hong

Kong Chief Executive to form a seven-person review committee to “clean up”

RTHK. 104 Mak of the Journalists Association was clear about where the consultation would lead. “It will pave the way for the implementation of the government’s will,” she said, implying closure.

Cheung of the Federation of Journalists also said he felt RTHK would eventually be closed. “That’s the only way it can be because you cannot change its inherent culture,” he said, referring to the broadcaster’s “anti-establishment nature.” Cheung, who also works for

RTHK, said the public broadcaster faced a paradox. On one hand, “China will not want to see an anti-government public broadcaster;” on the other hand, “nobody in Hong Kong would accept a government mouthpiece. The public wants quality broadcasting.”

His personal solution was a compromise. “We need a PSB [public service broadcaster], but it doesn’t have to be RTHK,” he said. “There are many models. ABC in

102 Mitchell 103 Lai, 172 104 Lai, quoting a talk by Cliff Bale at the University of Macau, 28 Apr 2006 44

Australia, for example, is accountable to Parliament. Maybe the Hong Kong PSB can be accountable to the Legislative Council, which will give it a sense of responsibility.” 105

In January, 2008, some lawmakers, activists and RTHK staff members condemned the delay of a government report on the future of public service broadcasting amid fears that the broadcaster’s seven radio stations would be closed or severely restrained in an attempt to silence commentators known to criticize the government. 106 But according to Mak, the fight over RTHK “had already been lost to self-censorship.”

A Shift From The Left

China’s Internet boom, growing economy, rising middle class, entry to the World Trade

Organization, increase in the number of foreign correspondents, and innumerable other reasons can be used to explain recent media developments. While it would be difficult to isolate Hong Kong’s contribution to this trend, the fact that Beijing had to deal with a free press on its soil for the first time must not be overlooked.

Earlier, this paper discussed how tried to mimic Hong Kong’s in an attempt to compete with its more open and popular programming. It also demonstrated how Beijing’s SARS cover-up, when compared to Hong Kong’s freer reporting, caused both the public and journalists to question the Mainland system.

Mak of the Journalists Association describes experiences she had in Mainland China in the 1980s, and how Hong Kong journalists had a positive influence on their day-to-day practices:

105 Cheung asked that I not attribute the RTHK-related quotes to him in the mainstream Hong Kong media, though he approved their use for an academic publication. 106 Albert Wong, “Action Demanded on Radio Report,” The South China Morning Post, 30 Jan. 2008; www.saverthk.org; “Newswrap,” Radio Television Hong Kong Radio 3, 29 Jan. 2008. 45

“The Mainland journalists just sat there waiting for an official to speak to them. We Hong Kong journalists started doorstepping 107, which they found very strange. But then, they started doorstepping, too. Of course, they still only got what information was given to them. Their articles were still edited and censored. But their attitudes had changed a bit…. Mainland journalists have taken a step forward. Mainland journalists could do a good job if they were allowed. They really know how to manoeuvre within the system.”

Cheung of the Federation of Journalists described a more recent experience on the Mainland:

“I went to Beijing last month [December 2007]. Their news reporters were telling me how the government stopped their work and there is a real desire among the younger ones to break out of the system. They were so happy to hear how things were in Hong Kong. Nobody follows us physically. Nobody beats us.”

On the other hand, he also said he hoped that Hong Kong journalists would not pick up negative aspects of Mainland reporting, particularly “corruption.” When asked about his being both critical of Mainland practices and acting as the head of an organization perceived as being pro-Beijing, he explained that the HKFJ, too, has shifted in its political affiliation.

“In the beginning, it was more left, meaning more of the members were from leftist publication or stations, but now there has been a shift and more of a balance between left and right,” he said, adding that the group now does journalists’ exchanges with the United States also identifies itself as an advocate for press freedom.

Speaking in the Mainland press, 108 Zhang Guoliang, head of Wen Wei Po, spoke of changes at his newspaper, one of the few pro-Beijing state publications in Hong Kong.

Zhang had been in Hong Kong since 1993, and had also worked as Xinhua’s general secretary. His explanation of Hong Kong media to those on the Mainland perhaps says more

107 Doorstepping is the practice of waiting for a politician or official outside of a building, usually a government office of courtroom, and then aggressively asking questions while blocking the person’s way out. 108 Xu Chunli, “Hong Kong’s Media Sense of Responsibility Is Growing: Interview with Zhang Guoliang,” The Beijing News, 27 June 2007 46

about the latter than the former: “If you want to sell a paper at a newsstand, you cannot have the government issue a memo ordering everyone to subscribe,” he said.

He said there was a “big problem” in trying running a pro-Beijing paper that would also blend into Hong Kong, and that Wen Wei Po was “close to failure” in 2000. It was too much to ask that Hong Kongers “like” Wen Wei Po; Zhang simply had the goal of having them “accept” it. .” The paper began reporting on the Democrats, social problems and minor criticism of government projects, such as road repair. “We now have to report as complete and accurately as possible. Wen Wei Po originally only had positive, not negative, reports about the Mainland, and only praise, not criticism, towards the SAR; but this did not fit the needs of Hong Kong readers…. In Hong Kong, news must be well-rounded and objective.”

Conclusion

Since the handover, Hong Kong news journalism has remained relatively critical, varied and influential in shaping public opinion. The city’s capitalist and unregulated nature means that its media workers and bosses are still largely driven by the need to be accountable to, and reflect the sentiments of, the average consumer on the street, as there is no profitability without popularity. The media is still seen as a watchdog operating independently of the state, as opposed to a gagged mouthpiece of the government. A cursory glance at TV programmes and newspaper pages over the past decade has turned up coverage of Taiwan, Tibet, Falun

Gong, Tiananmen Square memorials, SARS, protests, human rights and other contentious issues that would be covered in a different way north of the border, if at all.

Not surprisingly, journalists accustomed to working freely were not going to give in easily to taking a more muted, subservient position; meanwhile, media investors and owners had selfish reasons to avoid obviously censored, stilted programmes that would not “sell” to a 47

sophisticated audience, whether in Hong Kong or abroad. Even those perceived to be on the

“pro-China” side of Hong Kong journalism world – like Cheung of the Federation of

Journalists or, more radically, Wen Wei Po newspaper – admit that Hong Kong media must operate with a greater degree of freedom than is allowed on the Mainland, and that open, fair, critical reporting must be allowed.

The gap between censored Mainland journalism and Hong Kong’s outspoken media – particularly as Britain left it in 1997 – is vast. This means it is possible for Hong Kong’s media to be much freer than the Mainland’s, but still not as free as it was before, or free enough. Hong Kong’s public would not accept a media that is simply less censored than it is in Mainland China. More than a century of journalistic development and political struggle through the colonial era, plus decades of exposure to Western-style coverage, means that

Hong Kongers’ have higher expectations, as well as a culture of protesting for their rights.

Repeatedly, both before and after the handover, Hong Kongers have engaged in a push-and-pull with a Beijing government trying to keep them quiet. They sniffed at, and largely ignored, threats and insults by Mainland officials. They protested vehemently when reporters like Xi Yang and Ching Cheong were arrested on the Mainland, even if they were not Hong Kong natives. They openly expressed fear and dismay at the Tiananmen Square crackdown. They demanded to know exactly what was going on with the SARS epidemic despite the cover-up on the Mainland. And when there was a threat of potentially censorious regulations being added to the law books in 2003, an estimated half-million protested and successfully had the legislation withdrawn.

Predictably, the Beijing government, which had no real history, experience or understanding of a free press, had a difficult time accepting the tabloid-styled , unfettered criticism, tough questioning, exposés, and even mockery with which it was 48

suddenly confronted. China, which always saw Hong Kong as a concession once taken away by a hostile foreign power, viewed Hong Kong’s journalism style as something similarly threatening, alien, inscrutable and decidedly “non-Chinese.” When “uncontrolled” coverage began spilling over into Mainland living rooms -- thanks to increased cross-border traffic and new technology like satellite TV and the Internet – Beijing reacted.

There were attempts to firewall Websites and block TV signals, though these were patchy at best. Beijing also reached out. Hong Kong media owners were offered positions on

Mainland political bodies, and the lure of China’s enormous consumer market was dangled in front of them as a prize. But while the rewards offered to cooperative media were similar to those given on the Mainland, the punishments for uncooperative media were different. Given the strength of Hong Kong’s public sentiment and the fact that international eyes were still on the former colony, Beijing was wisely more tentative in engaging with Hong Kong journalists than it was with its own. The People’s Liberation Army did not crash dramatically into Hong

Kong newsrooms, and no Hong Kong journalists have been put under house arrest or jailed on Hong Kong soil.

It would be hard to prove that the Beijing government has directly or openly reached in and censored Hong Kong’s media; instead, most constraints have been implemented through putting business pressure on media owners, or by creating general conditions that cause journalists to become more cautious or engage in self-censorship. For example, the pro- democracy Apple Daily has complained repeatedly of an “advertising boycott” by companies linked to Mainland China; however, there is no law that stipulates that specific firms must spend money on specific media, and a “boycott” as such is hard to proof. Similarly, many of the departures of critically minded journalists at the SCMP and other places were the result of resignations and budget cuts, all of which are perfectly legal; however, a smart staff member 49

would know better, and would know to avoid certain topics or coverage to keep his or her job in the future. Similarly, the Hong Kong-linked jailings, of Xi Yang before the handover and

Ching Cheong afterwards, were both of Mainland-born journalists on the Mainland. One could not claim that Hong Kong was beginning to jail journalists like Mainland China does, but the “chilling effect” for Hong Kongers travelling to the Mainland was put firmly in place.

The gap between Mainland and Hong Kong media has narrowed in the past decade, with movement from both sides. Mainland journalists have picked up techniques and ideas from Hong Kong, while Mainland media outlets have become more driven by commercial interests, and therefore have to answer to the general public instead of just officials. On the other side, Hong Kong journalists have been made fully aware that they are under the jurisdiction of a country that regularly jails and punishes reporters, while Hong Kong media owners work with the understanding that their business interests may be at risk if they step over a certain political line. These two movements are interlinked: The more accessible Hong

Kong media becomes to Mainland audiences, the more Mainland journalists are inspired to operate in a modern and open way, the more threatening Hong Kong journalism becomes, and the more reason the Mainland has to crack down on it. While much coverage in the West is on Chinese moves to block international media like the BBC or CNN, Hong Kong media – which covers more local issues, has greater local ties, and speaks the language of the Chinese people – is arguably more of a threat.

Hong Kong, with its population of 7 million, is not a big place, particularly compared to China’s 1.3 billion people. As a small island of free speech in a larger Communist-ruled nation, Hong Kong can act as a watchdog for the entire country, as was evidenced by its coverage of the SARS epidemic. As the home to vast multi-national Chinese broadcasters like Phoenix – as well as the Asia headquarters of international media like CNN, the 50

Financial Times and the International Herald Tribune – Hong Kong influences the way

Chinese news is seen all over the world. It is a gateway to the world’s next rising superpower.

Depending on the future of journalism and human rights development in China, Hong Kong could become the canary in the mine, or the light at the end of the tunnel.

51

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Referenced Books and Studies

“Survey on Press Freedom in Hong Kong,” Hong Kong Journalists Association and the Public Governance Programme, Lingham University, Hong Kong, Jan, 2007

Bale, Cliff, Mak Yin-Ting, To Yiu-ming, Jackie Sam and Charles Goddard. “Shrinking Margins: Freedom of Expression in Hong Kong since 1997.” 2007 Annual Report of the Hong Kong Journalists Association, July 2007

Chan, Joseph M. and Francis L.F. Lee, “Mass Media and Public Opinion,” Contemporary Hong Kong Politics: Governance in the Post-1997 Era. Eds. Lam Wai-man, Percy Luen-tim Lui, Wilson Wong and Ian Holliday. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007

Hutcheon, Stephen J. “Pressing Concerns: Hong Kong’s Media in an Era of Transition,” The Joan Shorenstein Center on the Press, Politics and Public Policy, Harvard University, 1998

Lai, Carol P. Media in Hong Kong: Press Freedom and Political Change, 1967-2005. Abingdon, Oxfordshire: Routledge, 2007

Lau, Chi Kuen. Hong Kong’s Colonial Legacy: A Hong Kong Chinese’s View of the British Heritage, Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press, 1997

Moriarty, Francis. “Press Freedom in Hong Kong: The Trend is Down,” Hong Kong Journal, April 2007

Lee, Chin-Chuan (ed.) Power, Money, and Media: Communication Patterns and Bureaucratic Control in Cultural China, Evanston, Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 2000

Tsang, Steve. A Modern History of Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2004, 2007

Journalism Sources

“China Media Giant Takes Shape in Malaysia,” TODAY (Singapore), 24 April 2007

“China Subverted by Satellite,” The Economist, 30 Jan 1993

“Chinese Radio Station Gives People News, Views, Rock and Roll,” Reuters, reprinted in The San Francisco Chronicle, 12 Aug 1992

“Chinese Tycoon Latest Donor to Tory Party,” The Sunday Times, 22 Sept 1991 52

“Outbreak Has Stifled Debate on Article 23,” The South China Morning Post, 18 April 2003

“Reporter Jailed for Four Years for Stories About Corruption in China,” The Associated Press, 27 June 2001

Becker, Jasper, “Why I Was Fired in Hong Kong,” The Washington Post, 4 May 2002

Bao Tong, “Three Suggestions on Breaking the Deadlock over Article 23 Legislation,” Hong Kong Economic Journal, 7 July 2003

Browne, Andrew, “STAR TV Banned from Hotels in Chinese Capital,” Reuters, 21 Jan 1992

Chen, Kathy, Urban C. Lehner and Marcus W. Brauchli, “China’s Foreign Minister Issues Warnings: Hong Kong Faces Curbing of its Political Freedom.” The Wall Street Journal, 16 Oct. 1996

Courtney, Christine, “A Star Rises in the East: Hong Kong-based STAR Television, the first pan-Asian network, has seen astounding growth,” The Los Angeles Times, 11 May 1993

Fenby, Jonathan, “Muzzling the Media: Life in China’s Shadow,” The Globe and Mail, 11 Nov. 2000

----- “Post Stripped: The Decline of a Hong Kong Institution,” The Asian Wall Street Journal, 2 May 2002

Gargan, Edward A. “Hong Kong Ruler Says Farewell to All That,” The New York Times, 26 Jun, 1997

Gilly, Bruce, “Hong Kong: Gag Order,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 11 July 1996

Glain, Steve, “Hong Kong-Based STAR TV Grows Up Fast,” The Asian Wall Street Journal, 29 May 1992

Goodspeed, Peter, “Asian Censors Fear Spread of Satellite TV,” The Toronto Star, 8 Apr 1992

Kong Lai-fan, “RTHK Blasted by Xinhua Chief for Taiwan Broadcast,” The South China Morning Post, 7 Aug. 1999

Kwan, Daniel, “Crossing the Border,” The South China Morning Post, 6 Nov. 2003

Lai, Jimmy, “Sending a Message to Beijing,” The Asian Wall Street Journal, 10 July 2003

Lau, Joyce Hor-Chung, “Mainland Accent Brings a New Tone to a Vibrant City,” The International Herald Tribune, 21 June 2007 53

Lee-Young, Joanne, “Phoenix TV Lands in Vancouver,” The Vancouver Sun, 28 Jan 2008

Li, Angela, “Call for End to Reporting Curbs,” The South China Morning Post, 13 July 1996

Lim, Benjamin Kang, “Jailed China Journalist Wins Early Release,” Reuters, 4 Jan 2006

Lim, Peter, “Hong Kong Media Urges Government to Respond to Mass Protests,” Agence France-Presse, 2 July 2003

Mitchell, Justin, “Tuning in to Programming Rows Spanning Two Decades,” The Standard (Hong Kong) 28 Sept. 2006

Pan, Philip P. “Journalist is Fired after China Remarks,” The Washington Post, 5 May 2002

Pomfret, John, “One Corrupt City Reflects Scourge Plaguing China,” The Washington Post, 6 March 2002

----- “Scanning the Airwaves: Media Revolution Sweeping Asia: Satellite TV Presents Views Different from Those of Leaders,” The Associated Press, 9 Feb 1992

----- “SARS: The China Syndrome” The Washington Post, 17 May 2003.

Robinson, David, “Iron Hand Maintaining Strong Grip on Phoenix,” The South China Morning Post, 15 May 2003

Saiget, Robert J., “Beijing Slams Taiwan Vice President as ‘Scum of the Nation’,” Agence France-Press, 8 April 2000

Schloss, Glenn, “When You Talk Back Too Much,” The South China Morning Post, 16 June 2001

Stoner, Tad, “Multilingual TV Set for New Year in Hong Kong,” The Hollywood Reporter, 15 Dec 1992

Timerlake, Cotton, “BBC Launches Television News Channel in Asia To Compete with CNN,” The Associated Press, 14 Oct 1991

Tsui, Yvonne, and Jimmy Cheung, “Judge Refuses to Block Radio Broadcasts,” The South China Morning Post, 22 Jan. 2008

Wong, Jesse, “Ad Pullout Takes a Bite Out of Lai’s Publications,” The Asian Wall Street Journal, 23 Sept 1999

Wong, Albert, “Action Demanded on Radio Report,” The South China Morning Post, 30 Jan. 2008

54

Xu Chunli, “Hong Kong’s Media Sense of Responsibility Is Growing: Interview with Zhang Guoliang,” The Beijing News, 27 June 2007

Yeung, Frederick, “Next Media Suffers from Ad Boycott,” The South China Morning Post, 7 May 2007

Websites

The Hong Kong Journalists Association: www.hkja.org.hk i-CABLE: www.i-cablecomm.com Sing Tao Group: www.singtaogroup.com Save RTHK: www.saverthk.org