Thursday, February 8, 2007

Media Censorship Under the Macapagal-Arroyo Administration

Prof. Danilo Arao
Philippine Cultural Summit
September 13, 2006
St. Michael Retreat House
Antipolo City

Isa pong mapagpalayang umaga sa inyong lahat! Katulad ninyo, kabilang ako sa mga manggagawang kultural dahil ang midya at ang eskuwelahan na pareho kong ginagalawan ay may pangunahing papel sa paghuhubog hindi lang ng kaisipan kundi ng kabuuang kulturang Pilipino. Ang aking trabaho bilang mamamahayag at guro ay masasabi tuloy na kultural na gawain na hindi kakaiba sa inyong nagtataguyod ng isang malaya at mapagpalayang lipunan sa pamamagitan ng makabuluhang sining.

The intent is clear if one were to read the full text of Art. III, Sec. 4 of the 1987 Constitution: “No law shall be passed abridging the freedom of speech, of expression, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble and petition the government for redress of grievances” (The 1987 Constitution of the Republic of the Philippines, n.d.: 4).

This provision alone reinforces the argument that Martial Law under the late Ferdinand Marcos has already ended with the ascension to power of Corazon Aquino in 1986. While censorship was very apparent during the time of Marcos, observers note that we are now reaping the fruits of EDSA 1 given the supposed restoration of democracy.

Unlike the period from 1972 to 1986, no newspapers and broadcast stations have been forcibly closed down by the administrations that succeeded Marcos. Journalists can more freely exercise their profession, making the media a suitable venue for debate among protagonists. The emergence of the new media, particularly the Internet, has given opportunities for both mainstream and alternative media to broaden their reach and provide Filipinos and other nationalities here and abroad more choices to satisfy their information needs. Regulation of content from the Internet – or to be more precise, the World Wide Web – is said to be a monumental task for a technologically challenged administration so dissidents have turned to the new media to make known their stand to concerned and like-minded online users.

Where, at this point, does censorship come in? Isn’t Martial Law already over? Isn’t censorship at this time an impossible task for the powers-that-be, given the power of the Internet to immediately upload text, graphics, pictures and audio-visual materials, free from the any government intervention? If opposing views can now be accommodated by the media, doesn’t this mean that there is no attempt from the administration to suppress information?

How I wish that I can tell you right now that there is no censorship under the Macapagal-Arroyo administration given the circumstances I mentioned, and that this talk is over. But proceed I must, for there is more to the current media situation than meets the eye. And without preempting our discussion, censorship actually happens right under our noses.

This paper seeks to explain both the direct and indirect forms of censorship being used by the Macapagal-Arroyo administration from 2001 to the present. A discussion, however, of what transpired during Martial Law and beyond is in order to properly contextualize the manner in which censorship has been done through the years.

Defining Censorship

Censorship refers to “the institution or practice of censoring” (The New Lexicon, 1990: 159) which is, in turn, defined as suppression of publications or excision of any matter in them “thought to be immoral, seditions, or otherwise undesirable” (The New Lexicon, 1990: 158).

Censorship can be done at various levels. While government regulations directly affect media freedom in a country, it must be noted that the media gatekeepers also exert influence on the nature of media content and, consequently, the information that the public gets. A media practitioner and his or her editors may, consciously or unconsciously, resort to self-censorship in the performance of his or her functions. Suffice it to say that this can be brought about by the prevailing environment of suppression in the media.

For purposes of discussion, this paper will only focus on government regulations and the emerging measures undertaken by the Marcos and Macapagal-Arroyo administrations to fulfill their agenda.

Censorship Under Martial Law

In the context of Martial Law, censorship was clearly seen in Letter of Instruction No. 1, issued on September 22, 1972 ordering the Press Secretary and the Defense Secretary to take over and control or “cause the taking over and control” (Ofreneo 2001: 124) of the mass media for the duration of the national emergency. Please note that the first letter of instruction under Martial Law, issued a day after it was declared, involved the mass media.

The Marcos administration was, at that time, apparently aware of the power of media in shaping of public opinion, especially in making his dictatorial regime acceptable to the people. Not surprisingly, Marcos resorted to various direct forms of censorship, as may be gleaned from two orders coming from the Department of Public Information (DPI) on September 25, or three days after the issuance of Letter of Instruction No. 1.

DPI’s Order No. 1 made it clear that all media publications had to be cleared first, reminding media practitioners that the mass media shall publish objective news reports and that no editorial comment shall be permitted. It also stated: “Expressly prohibited are materials that are seditious or that tend toward disorder, lawlessness, and violence.” (Ofreneo 2001: 124) Order No. 2, on the other hand, prohibited printers “from producing any form of publication for mass dissemination without permission from the DPI.” (Ofreneo 2001: 125)

More than a month after (i.e., October 28, 1972), Marcos issued Presidential Decree (PD) No. 33 penalizing “the printing, possession, distribution, and circulation of printed materials which are immoral or indecent, or which defy the government or its officers, or which tend to undermine the integrity of the Government or the stability of the State.” (Ofreneo 2001: 125)

In a study, Maslog identified other laws which prevented the spread of what the administration considered sensitive information, among them “PD 90 (penalizing rumor mongering), PD 1737 (empowering the President to detain persons to prevent them from acting against national security or public order), PDs 1834 and 1845 (escalating the penalties for rebellion, sedition and other crimes related to national security, including “subversive journalism”), and PD 1877 authorizing the incarceration for a period not exceeding one year of persons accused of national security crimes even without charges being filed against them).” (1990: 37-38)

Aside from these laws, Marcos also established media-regulating bodies like the Mass Media Council (MMC) through PD 36 on November 2, 1972. In a nutshell, all media agencies were required to secure a certificate of authority to operate from the MMC. The latter was abolished on May 11, 1973 through PD 191.

However, the Media Advisory Council (MAC) took the place of the MMC which was also tasked to issue certificates of authority to operate the mass media. Its only difference with the MMC was the composition of the body which provided more private sector representation.

The MAC was abolished on November 9, 1974 through PD 576 because, according to a study by Ofreneo, there was in the eyes of the Marcos administration an “improved capability of the mass media to regulate and discipline their ranks.” (Ofreneo 2001: 127)

It was also through PD 576 that the Philippine Council for Print Media (PCPM) and Broadcast Media Council (BMC) were created. Maslog described this development as “a step towards normalization” (1990: 37) since the two councils were essentially self-regulatory in character. Critics, however, noted that the PCPM was mainly composed of publishers so press freedom was not upheld since only their interests were protected. The same case applied for the BMC which, like the PCPM, had mostly Marcos cronies for their officers.

The PCPM, interestingly, was empowered by the Marcos administration “to impose sanctions, including cancellation of registration certificates, suspension or written admonition in the case of media; and withdrawal of recognition, suspension of recognition or warning, in the case of advertising agencies.” (Ofreneo 2001: 127)

Censorship At Present

The succeeding administrations after Marcos saw the dismantling of direct controls over media, though some media-related organizations and agencies created under Martial Law still exist.

For instance, the Kapisanan ng mga Brodkaster ng Pilipinas (KBP), created in 1973 as a mechanism for self-regulation, is still very much around. The same case is true for the Movie and Television Review and Classification Board (MTRCB), created on October 5, 1985 through PD 1986. (Teodoro 2004)

While there are initiatives to reorient the television and radio codes of the KBP to adapt to the post-Martial Law situation, the same case cannot be said for the MTRCB. According to Teodoro, the MTRCB is actually a “censorship board” (2004: 71). He argued:

“It has the power to censor and delete portions from films. Several cases illustrative of the dangers of this power have arisen over the last decade. For example, the Board’s decision, overridden by the President, to cut `objectionable portions’ from the film `Schindler’s List’ as well as other decisions affecting Filipino films. Most of these cases have inevitably clashed with Art. III, Section 4 of the Constitution…” (Teodoro 2004: 71)

If one were to read the implementing rules and regulations (IRR) approved by the MTRCB on February 24, 2004, the word “censorship” cannot be found. In fact, the MTRCB IRR is even explicit in identifying the board as a “regulatory body” (Chap. II, Sec. 6) that shall only “review and classify motion pictures, television programs and related promotion materials and commercials for TV and cinema, applying as a general standard contemporary Filipino cultural values” (Chapter II, Sec. 1).

Teodoro’s contention apparently stems from the manner in which review and classification have been done through the years. The MTRCB, after all, is wont to recommend deletions of what it deems objectionable portions of whatever it is reviewing so that the producers can get their preferred ratings. Aside from the propensity to make recommendations on how to make the materials measure up to what the MTRCB thinks as the “general standard contemporary Filipino cultural values”, an X rating from the MTRCB prevents the affected materials from being shown in movie houses. In the case of airing on television stations, a G (general patronage) or PG (parental guidance) rating is necessary for public exhibition.

Such was the fate of the documentary “Ang Mabuhay para sa Masa” about the life of ousted President Joseph Estrada last month which was rated X. According to the MTRCB’s August 28 memorandum, the second and final review showed that the Estrada documentary tended to “threaten the political stability of the state; undermine the faith and confidence of the people in the government; [be] libelous or defamatory; [pertained] to matters that are sub judice in nature.” The MTRCB effectively upheld the decision of its first review committee which gave an X rating to the documentary on August 23. (Arao 2006c)

In an earlier article, I argued that this constitutes de facto censorship, given that “(t)here is…a trend right now for the MTRCB to be used in preventing the spread of what the powers-that-be deem as counter-propaganda. In fact, the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines (NUJP) even issued an alert on August 23 that the MTRCB demanded from the producers of a new public affairs show of ABC 5 the deletion of some portions of its first episode featuring the New People’s Army (NPA).” (Arao 2006c)

Please allow me at this point to quote the arguments I presented about how the MTRCB is being used not only as a mechanism for de facto censorship but also for deterring counter-propaganda:

“(I)t cannot be denied that the Macapagal-Arroyo administration is also involved in its own propaganda campaign to gain the people’s confidence. In fact, Malacañang produced not just one but two documentaries in justifying the imposition of the state of national emergency (Paglaban sa Kataksilan: 1017 in March) and the conspiracy to bring down the current administration (Sabwatan sa Kataksilan in April).

“Unlike the Estrada documentary, the MTRCB did not subject these two documentaries to review and classification. After all, Section 9 of the MTRCB’s Implementing Rules and Regulations (IRR) states: “No films, television program, or publicity/promotional material for such films and TV programs, unless they are imprinted or exhibited by the Philippine Government and/or its departments and agencies, shall be granted exemption from review and classification for audience suitability.” (italics mine) It may be recalled that no less than the administration called on television stations to air these documentaries. The second, Sabwatan sa Kataksilan, was even previewed in Malacañang.

“In 2004, the MTRCB approved the public exhibition of the documentary titled Imelda on the life and times of former First Lady Imelda Romualdez-Marcos. Unlike the Estrada documentary, this did not question the legitimacy of the Macapagal-Arroyo administration and even ended up putting the Marcoses in a bad light.

“The MTRCB’s provision exempting government-produced materials from review and classification apparently operates on the assumption that government officials exercise better judgment over the private sector, especially the opposition, when it comes to suitability for audience viewing.

“More importantly, this also exposes the one-sided nature of review and classification at the MTRCB. Then again, the situation comes as no surprise as the MTRCB is under the Office of the President.” (Arao 2006c)

Clearly, the continued existence of the MTRCB gives the powers-that-be the opportunity to censor opposing views. The possibility of disseminating information on the Internet should not be seen as a consolation since the National Telecommunications Commission (NTC) could flex its muscles to block Internet content as practiced in other countries like China.

While the NTC is only tasked to “allocate frequencies to TV and radio stations” (Teodoro 2004: 63), it has tried to meddle with the radio and TV coverage of issues. At the height of the wiretapped conversation allegedly between the President and an election official, the NTC issued a press release reminding radio and television stations, “especially all broadcasters, to be careful and circumspect in the handling of news reportage, coverages (sic) of current affairs and discussion of public issues.” It even warned that if the tapes of the wiretapped conversation are found to be “false and/or fraudulent…the concerned radio and television (companies’) broadcast/airing of such false information and/or willful misrepresentation shall be just cause for the suspension, revocation and/or cancellation of the licenses or authorizations issued to (them).” (“Erring on the side of repression” 2005)

In a statement, concerned faculty members of the UP College of Mass Communication stressed, “If the government truly supports self-regulation in media, the NTC’s reminder is unnecessary and even uncalled for. Given the volatile political situation, media organizations cannot be blamed if the NTC’s reminder is construed as an assault on freedom of the press and expression.” (“Erring on the side of repression” 2005)

This situation proves the attempt of NTC to interfere with media content so one should be mindful of how it will exert its influence not only on radio and television but also on new media, particularly the Internet.

The discussion of censorship under the Macapagal-Arroyo administration cannot be complete without mentioning Presidential Proclamation No. 1017 which put the country in a state of national emergency from February 24 to March 3, 2006. The implications on media practice of PP 1017 may be summed up in the statement signed by 124 students, faculty members and staff of UP CMC: “Proclamation No. 1017 and General Order No. 5…(were) used by the government to quell legitimate dissent as manifested by the arrests of demonstrators and so-called conspirators to bring down the President. We can conclude from the raid on the broadsheet The Daily Tribune and the tight watch by the military on other media agencies that the Macapagal-Arroyo administration is savaging press freedom.” (“Rescind Proclamation No. 1017” 2006)

Aside from these covert measures which the powers-that-be tried to justify as not being moves to subvert the press and free expression, there are indirect measures done by the State to silence the media.

With the limited time I have, allow me to cite a few instances.

Kodao Productions did not only suffer the axing of its award-winning radio program (of which I used to be one of the co-hosts) on the day Macapagal-Arroyo declared a state of national emergency. In March 2006, it was also accused of being a propaganda unit of the communists by a Malacañang state witness named Jaime Fuentes.
One can only recall the burning of Radyo Cagayano on July 2, 2006 allegedly by elements of the 5th Infantry Division who previously spread black propaganda, accusing it as the radio station of the New People’s Army (NPA). (Ayroso 2006)
As I was preparing this paper, editors of the Philippine Collegian brought to my attention their complaint about the withholding of the campus publication’s funds by the UP administration. The latter invoked a provision in Republic Act No. 9184 (Government Procurement Reform Act) that “procurement by government units amounting to P250,000 and above shall be done through a bidding process, administered by the UP administration.” At first glance, there should be nothing wrong with complying with this condition but should student fees, just because they are collected by the UP administration, be already classified as government funds? The IRR of the Campus Journalism Act of 1991 clearly states, “The printing of the student publication by a private printer shall be conducted by the editorial board and the student publication staff through canvass or public bidding.” (“Autonomy under siege” n.d.: 2)

Obviously, these are not direct forms of censorship. Very much unlike Martial Law, there are no media regulatory bodies that screen media content prior to printing or airing. However, there are currently various mechanisms for prior restraint and the powers-that-be use both legal and extra-legal measures to quell dissent by silencing the messengers, at times through harassment and intimidation, even to the point of murder.

Death as Ultimate Form of Censorship

As early as 1990, Maslog has described the killing of journalists, as “ultimate form of censorship” (44). Indeed, 34 journalists were killed in the Philippines from 1972 to 1986, according to the Philippine Movement for Press Freedom (PMPF). In a paper I presented at a conference on political killing last August 10, I made the following analysis of the statistics on the killing of journalists from 1986 to July 2006:

“The NUJP’s data show that 83 journalists were killed from 1986 to July 31, 2006, or roughly four deaths yearly over the said period. During the administration of Corazon Aquino (1986 to 1992), the journalists killed numbered 17. The administration of Fidel Ramos (1992 to 1998) saw the number slightly decreasing to 15. During the shortened regime under Joseph Estrada (1998 to 2001), the journalists killed were five. From President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo’s ascension to power in January 2001 until July 2006, the number of journalists killed rose to 46. Of this number, 33 journalists (or 72 percent) were killed from 2004 onwards.” (Arao 2006a)

It is the administration’s responsibility to create an atmosphere conducive to the practice of the media profession. There is cogent reason to take the current dispensation to task for its failure to bring to justice those who are responsible for the murders. Despite the conviction of a police officer in November 2005 for the murder of a Pagadian-based award-winning journalist, the unabated killings continue to the point where the Philippines now holds the distinction of being next to Iraq in terms number of journalists killed, based on data from the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ).


Observers note that what is happening now is soft censorship. With the exception of PP 1017 that had a more direct form of censorship, the powers-that-be are using veiled threats for the media not to highlight information that can put the current administration in a bad light.

In another earlier article, I stressed that the Macapagal-Arroyo administration currently needs a subservient media to survive. To end this lecture, please allow me to quote from what I have previously written:

“In the context of journalism, government officials want docility in the newsroom. Through this, the powers-that-be hope that journalistic outputs would depict social reality mainly from their standpoint, rendering insignificant the voices of dissent no matter how newsworthy they might be.


“(T)he powers-that-be are extremely wary of journalists who practice objectivity in their reportage. For them, a balanced presentation of the national situation threatens the status quo as the side of the opposition is made known to the people who then have the option to subscribe to views other than the official line.


“Despite the lifting of the state of national emergency, the powers-that-be have continued the monitoring of journalists suspected to be engaged in disinformation. National Security Adviser Gonzales said, “(w)e are profiling everybody as you (the media) are profiling us.” Despite the PNP’s denial of surveillance on journalists for any links to the communist movement, Sr. Supt. Samuel Pagdilao said that other law enforcement agencies could be conducting this.


“Clearly, the powers-that-be are creating an atmosphere conducive for a subservient media and a kind of journalism that is biased for the “official line.” In relation to the current political crisis, a subservient media proves to be the key to the Macapagal-Arroyo administration’s survival.” (Arao 2006c)

Thank you for your attention and a liberating morning to all of you. Marami pong salamat sa inyong pakikinig at isang mapagpalayang umaga sa inyong lahat.

Works Cited

1987 Constitution of the Republic of the Philippines, The. (n.d.). Mandaluyong City: National Book Store.
Arao, D. A. (2006a, August 10). Tracing the roots of killings of journalists. Paper presented at the Kontra Gahum: Forum with Academics Against Political Killings, PH 207, Palma Hall, University of the Philippines in Diliman, Quezon City.
Arao, D. A. (2006b, August 27-September 2). Macapagal-Arroyo needs subservient media to survive. Retrieved September 12, 2006, from
Arao, D. A. (2006c, September 3-9). New media, propaganda make review board irrelevant. Retrieved September 12, 2006, from
Autonomy under siege. (n.d.). Quezon City: Philippine Collegian.
Ayroso, D. (2006, July 9-15). Radyo Cagayano: Burned but not silenced. Retrieved September 12, 2006, from
Erring on the side of repression. (2005, June 19). University of the Philippines College of Mass Communication.
Implementing rules and regulations. (2004, February 24). Quezon City: Movie and Television Review and Classification Board.
Maslog, C. C. (1990). Philippine mass communication: a mini-history. Quezon City: New Day Publishers.
New Lexicon Webster’s Dictionary of the English Language, The. (1990). New York: Lexicon Publications, Inc.
Ofreneo, R. P. (2001). The press under Martial Law. In L. V. Teodoro & M. Q. De Jesus (eds.), The Filipino press and media, democracy and development (124-142). Quezon City: University of the Philippines Press.
Rescind Proclamation No. 1017. (2006, February 27). University of the Philippines College of Mass Communication.
Teodoro, L. V. (2004). Laws on Philippine mass media. In Press freedom in the Philippines: A study in contradictions (62-76). Philippines: Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility.

No comments: