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I head up the Asia-Pacific desk at Reporters Without Borders, a non-governmental organization whose mission is to defend freedom of information around the world. One of our main advocacy tools is the World Press Freedom Index, which we compile every year for 180 countries.
In 2018, Myanmar was ranked 137th out of 180 countries. In October, we issued what we call an index alert in relation to Myanmar's 2019 ranking. According to several of the indicators we use to measure freedom of the press in each country, we noted a troubling decline.
First, on the media independence indicator, we noted issues involving investigative journalists. Of course, I am referring to the cases of Reuters journalists Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe Oo, who have been rotting in prison for 14 months. Their only crime is to have investigated the massacre of 10 Rohingya civilians in a village in the Arakan state in September 2017, during the wave of repression that forced nearly a million Rohingyas to flee to Bangladesh.
This ethnic cleansing, in the words of the UN, was completely hidden from the media. The two Reuters journalists were courageous enough to investigate the situation with professionalism, gathering personal accounts, evidence and documentation until the night police entrapped and arrested them. Two officers handed them mysterious documents out of the blue, after which two other officers immediately arrested them for being in possession of state secrets.
Despite being a gross set-up, the incident did not stop the justice system from trying the two journalists on charges of violating a colonial-era law on state secrets. The prosecution that followed was nothing more than a charade.
In April, the military actually acknowledged the massacre the journalists had been investigating. A military court even convicted seven soldiers for their involvement. The journalists, however, remain in prison. One of the officers who took part in their arrest admitted before the court that the two journalists had indeed been framed by police. What did that officer get for blowing the whistle on the journalists' arrest? A prison sentence for disobeying the chain of command. His fellow officer, scheduled to testify the next day, mysteriously went missing.
The entire investigation was an appalling display of hypocrisy. From the farcical circumstances under which the journalists were taken in by police and the fabrication of so-called incriminating evidence to the staging of photos while in police custody and the pressure exerted on witnesses during the preliminary hearing, absolutely nothing holds water. Nevertheless, down came the hammer in September 2018, when the journalists were formally sentenced to seven years in prison. The verdict was upheld by an appeal court in December. A second appeal, this time before the Supreme Court, was filed about two weeks ago, but given the judiciary's total lack of independence in the matter, there is little chance of the country's Supreme Court judges overturning the original verdict.
Such a blatant violation of freedom of the press in a country said to be on the path towards democracy is astonishing.
Perhaps the police, judicial and political apparatus went after the journalists with such zeal as a way for Aung San Suu Kyi's civilian government to placate the military and Buddhist fundamentalists in connection with this notorious persecution of the Muslim Rohingya minority.
One detail, in particular, is worth noting: the relative speed with which the Burmese justice system dealt with the journalists' appeal. The republic's president, an ally of Aung San Suu Kyi, has the power to grant pardons under the constitution. Some observers have speculated that he might pardon the two Reuters journalists for the Burmese new year in April—a tradition in the country. In order for that to happen, however, any possibility of appeal must be exhausted, which could explain why the journalists' case was handled with such unexpected haste.
That scenario would give the civilian authorities a chance to make a show of clemency towards the journalists after upholding their convictions, and allow the military and Buddhist nationalists to save face. Consequently, Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe Oo could rejoin their families, but a chilling message would have been sent to other journalists: this is what will happen to you if you dare to investigate subjects that are off limits.
The other extremely worrisome aspect, when it comes to Myanmar's deteriorating freedom of the press, is the rise of self-censorship in journalistic writing. Journalists now know that they are opening themselves up to military reprisal if they cover, among other things, the situation in the Arakan state, which, the UN characterized as a genocide of the Muslim Rohingya population.
Generally speaking, many journalists no longer dare to cover subjects that might offend the Buddhist majority and, especially, the more extremist elements. One of the journalists Reporters Without Borders is helping told me that himself. We are providing him with legal support further to his prosecution for criticizing, in an article, the hate speech of the fundamentalist Buddhist monk Ashin Wirathu, who has become rather famous since Time magazine referred to him as the “face of Buddhist terror” on one of its covers a few years ago.
What, then, is the reporter accused of? Like many other reporters in Myanmar, he is being prosecuted under section 66(d) of the country's telecommunications law. It's a rather vague and poorly written provision that essentially makes it a crime to defame someone. What that means, in practical terms, is that no matter how airtight and well-sourced a reporter's investigation is—no matter how overwhelming the supporting evidence—the reporter is making themselves a probable target for a complaint under the law by anyone mentioned in the article. The law serves as the sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of investigative journalists. As recently as October, three other reporters spent 15 days behind bars simply for covering an affair involving a government contract in the city of Yangon.
Cases involving censorship and self-censorship can have far-reaching consequences. For instance, the authorities have even prohibited use of the term “Rohingya” in the media, and outlets that defy the edict are threatened with closure. In June, the Radio Free Asia network was banned from the country for refusing to use the term “Bengali” instead of “Rohingya”, as the government demands. Use of the word “Bengali” suggests that the Rohingya population will not be integrated into Myanmar's territory, and that is precisely the vision the authorities want to impose.
It is also important to know that, on the other side of the country, in the northeast, the journalistic landscape is equally as hostile. The recent escalation in conflict between the military and rebel groups in the Shan and Kachin states has resulted in reporters being unable to cover vast areas controlled by the military. Those who dare to go there are met with serious threats and sometimes reprisals by belligerents.
There you have it: a brief overview of where freedom of the press currently stands in Myanmar, which will likely drop even lower on the World Press Freedom Index Reporters Without Borders will be putting out in April. It's quite telling to see how the situation has evolved over the long term since Aung San Suu Kyi's party, the National League for Democracy, came to power in the 2012 election. At the time, the country saw a radical shift, as media publications proliferated given that reporters stopped living in constant fear of being arrested for their work. The country went from 151st place on the World Press Freedom Index in 2013 to 131st place in 2017, moving up 20 spots in four years. The problem, however, is that, in 2008, the country again started to drop in the rankings, losing six spots.
In light of what I've just said and what's transpired over the past year, there is strong reason to believe that the situation is, in fact, a genuine reversal of the trend, not just an aberration. That is all the more worrisome since Aung San Suu Kyi, the current head of the government, has done nothing to stand up for the Reuters journalists. That speaks volumes about the bumpy and winding road that Myanmar must travel to address freedom of the press and complete its transition to democracy.
Thank you.