24 Feb 2014 | Burma, Index Reports, News, Politics and Society, Religion and Culture
The Art of Transition Symposium took place in Yangon on March 30th – 31st 2013. It was the first public discussion of artist freedom of expression in Burma, looking in particular at the impact of the wave of political reforms, which started at the end of 2011, on artistic freedom of expression. Here is a short film directed by artist Htein Lin, who also was artistic advisor to the symposium with comedian and director Zarganar. The film reports briefly on the Symposium, and gives a snapshot of some of the performances and exhibitions that have taken place in Yangon during the year since the symposium. The Symposium was co-produced by HOME – Zarganar’s new company HOME (which stands for House of Media and Entertainment) and Index on Censorship. The Burmese team was led by journalist and former political prisoner Zaw Thet Htwe.
The Art of Transition Symposium[1] in Yangon was a significant event in the unfolding drive towards democracy in Burma, providing a public platform to discuss how changing political and social conditions are affecting artistic freedoms. It was the first symposium of its kind in Burmese[2] and another in the series of firsts as the space for expression opens up. While the abolition of pre-censorship of print media released all writers, including poets and novelists from censorship and ensured that debate around media freedom was centre stage, discussion about broader artistic freedoms was trailing and needed to be considered in depth.
The symposium featured an unprecedented gathering of artists from Yangon and Mandalay facilitating exchange between historical, traditional and contemporary art forms and between artists of all ages. Many of the most respected artists in the country across all art forms, in particular those traditionally most associated with political and social engagement – poets, cartoonists, comedians, performance artists and film-makers – came together with political leaders, journalists, academics and lawyers for two days of presentations and discussion of the status of artistic freedom of expression and artists was possible.
Political backdrop
The symposium took place against a background of political and social change, optimism, instability, and uncertainty of President Thein Sein’s commitment to reforms[3]. There were two key free speech issues in the headlines. On April 1st, the day after the symposium, four new independent daily newspapers were published in Burma, the first since 1962. This historic moment for free speech was to an extent undermined by the on-going uncertainty surrounding press laws, which were to go through parliament in June. The other key freedom of expression issue was the debate around hate-speech triggered by outbreaks of violence between Buddhists and Muslims.
Ko Htut, chairman of the government appointed Press Council and member of Association of Former Political Prisoners, addressed the uncertain future of the press laws and called for the Ministry of Information’s (MoI) draft Printing and Publishing Enterprise Law to be rejected[4] as he saw it risked endorsing the old censor board under a new name.
Violence between Buddhists and Muslims figured strongly; the role played by social media in fuelling the violence was a major topic of discussion in the media at the time and continues to be at the time of writing. Hate speech and songs with Islamophobic lyrics circulated on the internet were discussed at the symposium and one of the performance pieces explored online hate speech. Emergency talks took place over the same weekend as the symposium which meant that Zarganar, a member of the interfaith council that met to discuss the tensions and violence, was only able to play a relatively small role in the symposium.
Artistic context
The symposium partners – HOME, comedian, film-maker and former political prisoner Zarganar’s new company and Index on Censorship[5] – viewed the symposium as a follow up to the Art of Freedom Film Festival[6] which took place in Yangon in January 2012, screening uncensored films about freedom and the title of the symposium – Art of Transition – was chosen accordingly. The film festival had given a green flag to the public debate about free expression, in large part due to Zarganar’s call for short films about freedom which elicited nearly two hundred entries, many by first time film-makers. The film festival, co-produced by Aung San Suu Kyi, was a very high-profile event with thousands of people watching the films on huge screens in the streets and squares of Yangon. It had clearly had a massive impact on the relationship between artists and the government, especially as ‘Ban That Film’ a fierce satire on film censorship boards, was the winning entry of the short film competition. The timing was critical and the organisers agreed to move quickly, to capture the conversation at an early stage of transition, making sure debate about freedom of artistic expression is on the agenda alongside media freedoms at this time of rapid reform.
The abolition of pre-censorship in print media is having a knock-on effect across other art forms, with artists taking more risks in terms of their choice of subject matter and putting on unlicensed events, in the belief that there would be less consequence or repercussion. The symposium, which was a licenced event, was in fact monitored by government officials standing at the back of the hall, though this did not seem to limit the discussion. It could be seen as one of a series of artistic initiatives and projects that are testing and interrogating the new freedoms in Burma during this period of accelerated change. Other notable events that took place around the time of the symposium were Zarganar’s comedy performance March 27, 2013 was a six hour live broadcast marathon of unbridled satire; Thangyat performances for New Year Celebrations were openly critical of the government; and Padauk 7000 a temporary unlicensed arts space that showed a series of site specific installations from March – June 2013. See Annex for more information on these events.
Symposium Summary
Over the two days of the symposium the presentations and discussions moved from the experiences of surviving the most brutal treatment of political prisoners on Cocos Island, to President Thein Sein administration’s apparent openness to criticism and satire, from the opportunities opening as a result of greater access to the internet to the impact of new independent artist associations and unions.
Many speakers chose to use this public platform to relate past experience of living through years of oppression and working in an environment extremely hostile to artistic freedom. Many spoke openly, some for the first time, about how they continued to create work in spite of considerable personal danger and hardships and described their courageous, ingenuous and often humorous strategies for circumventing censorship. Another discussion centred around the emergence of public censorship which, as the role of the state censor diminishes appears to fill the void. Public censorship, made up of many voices and sensibilities, brings with it a new, some felt more complex debate around freedom and the responsibilities of the artist.
There was a call to test limits and take risks to determine how far state imposed boundaries can be pushed, but at the same time there was concern that people need more time to learn how to exercise these new freedoms, especially in relation to the hate speech proliferating on the internet. The impact on artistic style and content was also discussed, as subjects that were previously banned can now be openly discussed. Whilst some felt liberated by these changes, others spoke about how they felt a paradoxical constraint generated by the new freedom and that they felt they had lost their bearings.
Artist Htein Lin played an important role in the symposium stimulating further thought and conversation with speakers and the audience about the core questions of the conference. He stressed that this is a new situation and there is a new reality which requires a new way of thinking and talking about freedom of expression. He posed questions about what artists should being doing to look after and increase the scope of the right to freedom of expression, pressing artists to think about the role of the police and how to work with new legislation.
Getting past the censors
Censorship is not about not writing a poem but about not being allowed to read it. Moe Saw
For many the symposium provided a very important opportunity to talk, sometimes for the first time in public, about the suffering and injustices leading up to and after 1988 and their work as artists and activists in underground movements. In the current climate of rapid change, it was clear that many felt that taking account of the past was an important step towards embracing reform. The ubiquitous presence of informers had made it impossible to talk about these things even amongst friends. Htet Myak, former political prisoner and survivor from the Cocos Islands one of the military junta’s most notorious prisons described the brutality of life for the 153 political prisoners who were incarcerated there and their efforts to continue to write using any available materials.
There were many accounts of how censorship boards operated before the recent reforms. Editor Chit Win Maung gave examples to illustrate the nature of censorship. One short story featuring a man who had to pluck out a white hair, using the word “tweezers” which is “zarganar” in Burmese was banned the comedian Zarganar was black-listed at the time. ‘Ye-nan-thit’ magazine was banned for six months after it published an essay about “democracy”. Even though the military government has always promised democracy the word could only be used in state-published materials.
Min Htin Ko Ko Gyi’s film ‘Uninterruptedness’ made after the cyclone Nargis, illustrated the lengths that artists would go to, to get work past censors. Itfeatured layers of text – the front layer being a series of words floating across the screen, over a layer of back to front text from Min Ko Naing’s book ‘Rear View Mirror’ (nauq-kyi-hman), only published in Thailand, banned in Burma, based on his experiences in 1988.
Public Censorship
Min Ko Naing talked about the changing nature of literary talks in villages. In the past, writers would tour talks about literary classics, often by westerners, which masked discussion of current affairs and political commentary. On recent tours he had encountered disbelief that it was now possible to talk openly about politics and he had to negotiate the use of microphones with the villagers, who finding the new openness shocking enough, were reluctant to amplify his presentation, fearing repercussions from the authorities.
Sharaad Kuttan, visiting speaker from Malaysia, spoke about the importance of controversy for generating public debate around challenging art, even if the public may call for the banning of the work in question. Controversy around art work often means that the artist has struck a nerve and is addressing an issue that is uncomfortable or divisive in society and he stressed the importance of art generating debate.
Expression online:
“Because we open the door, some dust comes in. We don’t need to be afraid of the dust.” Htun Win Nyein
Blogger Nay Phone Latt spoke of his sense that the country could fall apart at the touch of a key, because of the intensity of hate speech online especially about race and religion. He said “we are free but not safe”. He had investigated the online hate speech against Muslims and discovered that it was generated by a small group using a fake account. He suggested that “absolute freedom is not good for us”, we should take responsibility to speak up from the other side, those who want to live together in harmony with other faiths, but this voice is not coming across. Nay Phone Latt and journalist Zaw Thet Htwe both raised questions about how to counter misinformation, to be vigilant and stop circulation of hate speech.
Participants of the symposium were concerned that people did not know how to exercise these new freedoms, especially in relation to the hate speech proliferating on the internet. Htein Lin added that people need to take responsibility to oppose these voices and overcome intimidation. He said that we needed more speech, not less.
New Freedoms and new responsibilities:
“Now I am free but have to work within the constraints of society, of what is happening” San Saw Htwe – visual artist
Religious conflict was forefront in many people’s minds and it was pointed to as a reminder that freedom of speech is not without its problems. Many agreed that there need to be boundaries and there was some discussion about how to arrive a boundaries, but more focussed discussion on these and other related topics is needed. One artist who had created hundreds of artworks in prison, said that he felt his most free when he was behind bars. He explained that even though he was now free the constraints of society and pressure of what is happening are distractions that make him feel less free as an artist.
Poet and editor Maung Tin Thit saw it another way. He said that in the time of precensorship of print media, he would send in his work to the censorship board and the censor would decide what would be published. Now the decision about what to say in public lies with the author and the editor, bringing new responsibilities which he found liberating.
Impact on artistic style and content
“With the political situation changing, how will art change?” – Zarganar
One of the key questions the symposium asked was how had the reforms affected artists who had developed a nuanced and subtle vocabulary to circumvent censorship. For several it is difficult to find their bearings, the mind-set is so deep seated that a two poets I spoke to agreed it would take time, maybe two years, to make work under such different conditions.
A performance artist who has made deeply political work for many years, told Index he had decided not to perform at all until after the 2015 elections and would spend his time documenting his work and making short films.
Performance artist Moe Satt commented that in performance and conceptual art he has seen a change from an urgent, cathartic explosion of tension to more conceptual work. Artists have repeatedly performed images of breaking out from closed spaces and now they have more space, work is more about feelings generated by breaking out.
A speaker claimed that poets were being criticised for sounding more like journalists than poets and the subtlety of their voice was lost; critics claimed there is more depth and substance when the message was indirect and hidden. It was acknowledged there is a hunger for new subjects that were formally banned but that the public appetite will change soon and grow tired of works about prison experiences and political leaders.
Poet Eindra recited a work about the monks demonstrations in 2007. At the time it would not have been possible for her to recite her own work so she had given it to fellow poet Ma Ei to circulate. One poet said that he did not want to publish his poems that were banned in the past because they would no longer be of the moment.
Testing the limits
“Every step is a test because we don’t know if it is allowed or not” Aw Pe Kyel (APK) – cartoonist
As seasoned activists, the symposium participants had experienced the pattern in contemporary Burma where space opens up for greater public participation only for this to be shut down again. While there is a strong feeling that this opening up is different and will be more lasting, there was a wariness about how long people will be able to enjoy this period of more free expression, how much daily life had really been affected and whether there would be some form of retribution in the future. Min Ko Naing encouraged artists to test the authorities by going ahead with different works without permission.
Self-censorship: Several speakers referred to self-censorship as the most crippling form of censorship. APK put it succinctly – “We have these freedoms but we still censor ourselves”. Old habits of self-censorship are hard to overcome; artists had to keep a censor in their heads for so many years that they were having difficulty escaping those unconscious boundaries. American anthropologist Jenny Leehey who wrote her PhD on censorship in Burma, talked about ‘public secrets’ that underpin all societies and how the symposium was an opportunity to openly share and so maybe finally dispel these public secrets from the old administration. Her rhetorical question to the symposium was to ask what the new public secrets are and how they were changing.
Artist Associations and Unions
“We are in a boat – trying to row forward. Some people may want to paddle sideways or backward. That’s your right, but please don’t try to sink the boat” – Thitsar Ni – poet
Independent artist unions and associations have flourished since becoming legal early in 2012. Previously they had been run by government elected officials and toed the party line except for a brief period in 1988 when they joined the protests. Musician Myint Moe Aung reported that younger musicians and hip-hop artists have been accepted into the association and there is greater cooperation across generations, though it is not without tensions. They have successfully campaigned for copyright and now, for the first time, radio stations have to pay musicians for broadcasting their music. Poet Thitsar Ni spoke about the new poets union which was the first of the new wave of independent groups to come together. He also spoke positively about the possibilities of collaboration, though noted difficulty of artists acting collectively.
Performance art
Throughout the symposium, as well as recitation of previously banned poetry, there were four performances that took the current state of the arts as their subject.
- Ma Ei – she sat motionless in lotus position looking straight ahead, her eyes hardly blinking would occasionally fill with tears. She threaded flowers which had already been discarded onto a long piece of thread. When the thread was full her performance ended. After the performance she described that the woman was threading together old flowers thinking about when the time when there would be fresh flowers.
- Saw Wai –Central to his performance was a torn map of Burma, referencing recent social conflicts, the savagery of hate speech and particularly songs with hate speech lyrics, a guitar and blooded paper also featured. He read a poem of his called Aungban where nonagenarian poet Dagon Tar Yar friend of General Aung San lives.
- Suu Myint Thein In his own performance the day before ‘We live in Myanmar’ he asked people in the audience what they wished for and collected these on pieces of paper, almost choking as he ate them. He then tried to reach a bag of water, dyed blue to symbolise peace, hampered by ropes tied to his ankles.
- Thet Swe Win is a poet who works on interfaith programmes. He burned a computer keyboard, reference to Muslim-Buddhist conflict and the inflammatory role of social media in fuelling anti-Muslim feeling. He sang ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon and quoted Buddhist texts and texts from the Koran and the Bible.
- Sow Thaw Dar – wore a t-shirt that depicted three phases of censorship. The censors went from using black ink and then switched to silver, because people discovered they could rub off black ink and reveal the censored text underneath. Censorship became more invisible when computers were introduced and censors simply cut out words and phrases or whole pieces they did not like.
Translation
Zeyar Lin dedicated his presentation to the discussion of poetry in translation. He featured two books of poems – one ‘Bones Will Crow’ which he edited with James Byrne editor of Wolf Magazine and an anthology of Burmese poetry translated into French without knowledge or permissions from the poets. Despite the unprincipled way the French editors had appropriated the poems, the fact is that there are now two anthologies of contemporary Burmese poetry out there in the world. This is a sign of art in transition and opening up of opportunities and possibilities for poets and new audiences around the world. He finished his presentation by reading poems by a North Korean poet Jang Jin-Sung.
Conclusion
That independent newspapers hit the newsstands for the first time in over half a century the day after the first ever symposium on artistic freedom of expression illustrates clearly that political reforms are delivering concrete change in Burma. At the same time violence between Buddhists and Muslims triggered debate about people’s readiness to handle new freedoms and uncertainty about the future of the press laws fuelled cynicism about the government’s commitment to reform. This mixed picture of opportunity, cynicism and anxiety was mirrored in the range of perspectives aired by the artists, activists and journalists at the symposium.
The premise of the symposium was clearly that artists are enjoying considerably more freedom and that the abolition of pre-censorship in print media had had a knock on effect across all the arts. However, the emerging role of public censorship, the changing nature of self-censorship and concerns about free speech online, were all cited as constraints on new freedoms.
Many of the presentations focussed on experiences of censorship that took place in the 80s, 90s and the last decade which reflected a preoccupation not to lose sight of the past in this period of transition. These stories still need to be told; they have been insufficiently heard and acknowledged and the contributing artists have experienced dramatic reversals by the government in the past. A relatively small number of presentations focused on what is changing now, what is possible now and what needs to change in the future. Younger artists were more able to talk about the present than the older artists who had lived through 88 but they also expressed their concern that their work is only valued as much as it comments on the social and political situation of Burma.
There was a strong debate about the relationship between art and politics that will go on and the infrastructure is there to support it, in the form of new independent artist associations and unions, including The Motion Picture association. There are other key agencies, many of which were represented at the symposium: HOME, New Zero, MCAC Beyond Pressure and education programmes like Loka Ahlin; the Burma Lawyer Council (led by NLD U Aung Thein), the Former Political Prisoner Association, Generation 88 Association. There was interest in activating these networks to develop the debate, though it was also acknowledged that collective action by the conference participants would be very difficult given the number of different artist alliances and unions. It was felt that there was need for a specialist organisation like Index to get help these groups to engage at higher level of decision making, how to campaign and influence law making.
Annex – examples of projects and programmes that illustrate the artistic context for the symposium
Zarganar’s comedy event March 27 2013 – People’s Park
Without doubt the most significant and boundary pushing example of this was Zarganar’s comedy show, the biggest ever Anyeint performance[7], produced, written by and starring Zarganar which took place three days before the symposium. Featuring comedians who had recently returned from exile, the six hour marathon performance was broadcast live by Sky Net, a new pay-to-view independent TV channel and reinstated Zarganar as the most outspoken comedian in the country with an explosion of bare fisted satire. It was said that President Thein Sein watched the show on TV, and it would be interesting to know if he was surprised to find himself a target for satire alongside many other reformers and democrats including Aung San Suu Kyi, Min Ko Naing, Zarganar himself as well as democracy and freedom.
Freedom was portrayed in an unglamorous light “we are free to do anything now – sell our shit, piss on the streets” and even political activists were held up for ridicule as one scene saw protesters with empty placards went round in circles chanting join our cause – when asked what their cause was they said they didn’t know. He had had to submit the scripts to SkyNet before the show, but he departed from the script during the live broadcast performance and some of his riskiest gags were improvised, including a ruthless portrayal of the very unpopular but still powerful grandson of former premier, General Than Shwe.
Thangyat performance – April 2013
At the same time, celebrations for Thingyen – the Burmese new year four day water festival, were being prepared, in particular Thangyat troupes. Traditionally an outspoken form of entertainment for the Burmese New Year, where teams of performers, competing for cash prizes, satirise mistakes made during the year so as to avoid repeating them in the coming year. Last year the ban, which had been in place since 1988 was lifted and there was a low key revival of the form. Now with more media attention than ever before, Sky Net was broadcasting the competition in Yangon and the first ever women’s troupe was performing in Mandalay it was interesting to see how new freedoms were being exercised and constrained.
Sky Net required all participating teams to submit their scripts or videos in advance and subsequently banned one troupe from the competition. The performers from the banned troupe thought that Sky Net was more sensitive to political satire than the current government and they were shocked and angry at being excluded. The troupe went ahead anyway and performed during the festival. In Mandalay pre-censorship of Than Gyat remains in the hands of city authorities and the all women Thangyat ensemble, like all the other troupes had to submit their scripts to the censors, though the group was determined to perform their script whatever the censors said.
Padauk 7000
Another art project Padauk 7000 was launched the weekend of the symposium. A temporary art space in the docks of Yangon, based in a fragile two storey wooden house due to be demolished in June to make way for a new apartment building. The space is run by an artist and an American journalist who crowd-sourced money to fund a series of weeklong site-specific exhibitions over a period of two months. They didn’t apply for a licence. Public exhibitions should, in theory, be licensed by the ministry of culture but they decided to test these requirements. 2 years ago running a squatted art space without alerting authorities would have risked arrest for the artist and deportation for the American. There is still a slight possibility of those things happening (a transitional government is an unpredictable one) but not enough to deter them.
[1] The symposium was a co-production between Index on Censorship and House of Media and Entertainment (HOME)
[2] The Irrawaddy literature festival, organised by the wife of the British Ambassador and conducted in English took place in February
[3] See a detailed assessment of the broader picture in Index’s report ‘Burma: freedom of expression in transition’.
[4] The MOI ‘Printers and Publishers Regulation Bill’ was passed by the Lower House of Parliament in July taking on very few of the changes pressed by the Press Council
[5] www.indexoncensorship.org
[6] Art of Freedom Film Festival co-produced with Min Htin Ko Ko Gyi and Aung San Suu Kyi took place within three months of Zarganar’s release from prison in October 2011.
[7] Anyeint is a traditional form of comic entertainment featuring an ensemble of comedians, with singers, dancers and musicians
This article was posted on February 24, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
20 Feb 2014 | Digital Freedom, News, Vietnam

Le Quoc Quan (Image: RFAVietnamese/YouTube)
The 30 month prison sentence for Vietnamese human rights lawyer and blogger, Le Quoc Quan, was today upheld by a Hanoi appeals court. Quan, who has frequently blogged about human rights violations by the government, was convicted in October 2013 on tax evasion charges. He has been arbitrarily detained since December 2012. A crowd of hundreds wearing t-shirts in support of Quan were present outside the court, while a European Union delegation, representatives from the United States and Canada and a small group of journalists were present at the trial. This is just the latest move in the Vietnamese authorities’ ongoing attack on dissent, free speech, free press and a free internet.
If you need to communicate with someone the Vietnamese government is interested in keeping an eye, it is always been useful to be careful. Phone conversations can be listened to. Meetings at houses could be watched. Protests are invariably filmed by government operatives. If you were going to, say, chat via Gmail’s chat function it should be switched to “off the record” to prevent a copy of the discussion being archived. Some unlucky people have seen their blog posts traced to the internet cafe they’ve later been arrested at. If you are a dissident you won’t be the only one the police are interested in; they’ll talk to your family, friends and employers, too. The latter they may ask to dismiss you.
It is Vietnam Ministry of Public Security conducts this surveillance work, while the Ministry of Information and Culture drafts many of the laws regarding internet usage and “abuse”. And it is most likely a unit within the MPS that is responsible for these, and earlier, malware attacks.
Much of the surveillance and intimidation is hardly new; similar operations took place during the Terror in the USSR. In fact, the CIA has compared the MPS with Russia’s KGB. The KGB of comrade days, however, never had to deal with the vastness of the internet. The government owns every newspaper and printing press in the country, but it has few serious servers, making control of the internet difficult. It does not stop them from trying.
In January the Associated Press in Vietnam reported on malware attacks against one of its journalists, against an American-Vietnamese blogger and against the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF). These are certainly not the first of their kind but may have been the first directed against those on foreign shores. The private correspondence of Vietnamese-American blogger Ngoc Tu was posted on her blog after someone — supposed, but not verified to be the Vietnamese government — sent her an email with a link that installed malware and key logging software giving the sender access to her password and her email account. The Associated Press reporter was a sent an email purportedly from Human Rights Watch with a link to a ‘white paper’ on human rights.
Vietnam’s internet history: Enthusiasm and repression
Vietnam’s relationship with the internet has not been simple. The government has always been enthusiastic about the internet and the wholesale benefits it could, and has, brought to the nation. Though classified as an “enemy of the internet” by Reporters Without Borders for its blocking of websites and arrests of bloggers and journalists, Vietnam’s communist government has done an awful lot to ensure good internet access.
But the country’s vibrant internet culture is a direct result of government guidance and intervention. Vietnam has long valued literacy and learning and according to Professor Carlyle Thayer at the Australian Defence Force Academy, the government believed that the “knowledge era” was key to the nation’s economic development. The internet helped to provide that and greater world integration, something they have been increasingly keen for since Doi Moi in 1986 when the country began a period of economic renovation, shunning its former isolationist politics.
Twenty years ago the Vietnam Communist Party (CPV) noted three dangers facing the country: corruption, deviation from the socialist path and falling behind. The internet was seen a perfect way to engage more with the world. A 2011 report by market research firm Cimigo, headquartered in Ho Chi Minh City, says: “Vietnam has seen a more rapid growth of the internet over the last few years than most other countries in the region and is one of the fastest growing internet countries in the world… Since the year 2000, the number of internet users in Vietnam has multiplied by about 120.”
However, the government misjudged, believing control to be easy, and circumventing its block beyond the ken of its citizens.
Putting the genie back in the bottle
There are three main laws bloggers, activists and others the state dislikes are charged under. Criminal Code Article 88 relates to “conducting propaganda against the state”. This is the one most often used — both draconian and helpfully vague. Then there is Article 258, relating to “abusing democratic freedoms”, and Article 79 covering “activities aimed overthrowing the Communist Party of Vietnam and People’s Socialist Republic of Vietnam”.
However there have also been numerous internet laws drafted, largely aimed at keeping citizens’ net activities restricted to useful research or harmless entertainment. An August 2001 law imposed “stringent” controls and required net cafe owners to report breaches to relevant authorities and to collect ID from their users. An August 2005 law criminalised using the internet to oppose or destabilise the state, security, economy or social order, infringe on the rights of organisations or individuals, or mess around with Domain Name System (DNS) settings — something many Facebook users started doing in 2009. In October 2007 the Ministry of Information and Culture issued a decision requiring all businesses to obtain a license before setting up a website. This has stymied growth in some ways, as it is only now that businesses are as present online as individuals.
In August 2008 Decree 97 made it illegal to “abuse” the internet to oppose the government. What got more attention was Circular 7, restricting bloggers to cover only personal, not political, topics. At the time blogging was a favoured pastime in Vietnam, Yahoo! 360 the favoured platform. Interest in blogging and blogs in general has since waned significantly. According to Cimigo, in 2009 40 per cent of internet users visited blogs and 20 per cent blogged themselves. By 2011 those numbers had halved as people increasingly moved to social media sites like Facebook.
It was the quiet block of Facebook in 2009 that caught the world’s attention. The government never mentioned a ban publicly though a purported scan of instructions to ISPs to block the site did rounds online. As the government never said much, Vietnam’s legion of Facebook users simply muttered something about “technical problems” as they “fixed” the DNS settings to access the site.
What led to the Facebook block was the organising between previously disparate groups against Chinese-run bauxite mines in the Central Highlands of Vietnam — an already ecologically and politically sensitive area. Catholics, activists, environmentalists and anti-China activists all united via Facebook to protest the mines. In 2010 the government tried to launch its own social networking site (which led to headlines such as ‘In Communist Vietnam, State Friends You’), go.vn, where users had to provide their full names and ID card details, but could also “friend” communist luminaries. The Minister for Culture and Information Le Doan Hop praised the site’s usefulness for young people and promotion of “culture, values and benefits”.
In 2010 came a decision requiring all public hotels to install Green Dam monitoring software. Theoretically it allowed the government to see what was being looked at, possibly by whom and take appropriate steps. In fact decision 15/2010/QD-UBND was something of a paper tiger; many pointed out how such a piecemeal and scattershot approach would have limited utility and could be wholly circumvented by any serious activist, though rights organisations took the appropriate potshots as a matter of course.
In 2010 a ban was put in place, ostensibly on all online gaming between 10pm and 6am, to combat gaming addiction. However, it was never fully possible to enforce thanks to most popular games being hosted by overseas servers.
The most recent attempts at curbing net use via legislation has been Decree-Law 72 on Management of the internet which formally came into effect in September 2013. Like many laws it is confusing and vague enough to be useful for any enthusiastic government prosecutor. Among other things it banned the sharing of news online. Or, rather, it banned the aggregation of news onto websites. The government took the time to publicly respond to the flurry of foreign concern and the head of the Ministry of Information and Culture’s Online Information Section protested to Reuters that the law did not violate any of Vietnam’s human rights commitments. “We will never ban people from sharing information or linking news from websites,” he said, arguing it had been misinterpreted.
There has been talk that Decree 72 was also designed to protect intellectual property, as violations have long been problematic and go far beyond dollar copies of new Hollywood films on DVD. One of the things 72 supposedly sought to do was prevent websites re-posting news from its original source with no attribution and thus make things easier for news sites whilst also laying groundwork for membership of the Trans Pacific Partnership in regards to intellectual property protection.
The more interesting requirement was that ISPs locate servers, or at least one, within Vietnam and deliver information on users to the government, rather as internet cafes have been required to do. They were also required to take down anything contravening laws. However Vietnam’s most trafficked sites do not have servers within Vietnam and with such new laws do not entirely see the point, either. Indeed there are not many substantial servers located there at all, and bloggers who fear the law usually host their blogs overseas in any case. Should the government instruct local ISPs to block say, Google, many will simply respond again to “technical difficulties” by readjusting their settings.
Peaceful evolution, draconian repression
The threat of peaceful and not so peaceful evolution hangs heavily over the heads of those in power in Hanoi.
Vietnam is regularly excoriated for its human rights record which generally means the way the nation locks up its dissidents, bloggers, religious leaders. Even US President Barack Obama made mention of blogger Dieu Cay’s ongoing detention, ostensibly for tax reasons.
According to Human Rights Watch there were at least 63 political prisoners convicted in Vietnam last year. And yet, as Professor Thayer said in a 2011 paper: “Great effort is put into monitoring, controlling and restricting Internet usage. The enormity of resources devoted for these purposes contrasts with the comparatively small number of political activists, religious leaders, and bloggers who have been arrested, tried and sentenced to prison.”
Though the numbers have increased since the above was written there is still little mass organising in this area, and large scale protests tend to be over more concrete issues: workers’ rights and wages or land grabs. However those considered potentially subversive are closely monitored, watched by both a physical presence and an online one.
Actual harassment of bloggers and their families has been common over the years. Most famously, mother of Vietnamese blogger Ta Phong Tan set herself on fire outside the Bac Lieu People‘s Committee building in the Mekong Delta in July 2012, in protest at the way her daughter had been treated.
Within the MPS are units that monitor all forms of communication and there are records of the country purchasing more complicated surveillance equipment. According to the same 2011 paper by Professor Thayer, Vietnam by 2002 had the Verint call monitoring system. Verint, a US company, supplies over 150 nations and 10,000 organisations with varied forms of security and monitoring equipment.
China in the 1990s also offered technical assistance to “monitor internal threats to national security” to the General Department II. The military also collects intelligence related to national security and with attention paid to those, abroad or within Vietnam, who “plot or engage in activities aimed at threatening or opposing the Communist Party of Vietnam or the Socialist Republic of Vietnam”.
General Department II not only, arguably, watched dissidents but also tapped senior party officials in an incident of usually opaque factionalism that later came to light.
There have been many attacks against varied blogs and websites; 16 starting in 2009 and intensifying in April of the next year. Varied activists came under fire: Catholics discussing land issues — there have been ongoing spats between Catholics and the state over land grabs — as well as environmentalists and political agitators. Sites allied to the anti-bauxite movement were also hit. IP addresses were allegedly traced back to within Vietnam and to addresses connected to the military. The attacks, verified by McAfee and Google, were botnet attacks where spyware hid in seemingly innocuous Vietnamese language keystroke software (though a Romanised alphabet Vietnamese has 29 letters and many diacritics). Neel Mehta, a security expert with Google, wrote in a blog post that: “While the malware itself was not especially sophisticated, it has nonetheless been used for damaging purposes.”
Vietnam joining the “technology race”?
That Vietnam has taken up the internet quickly and with great passion is beyond dispute but there are still gaps in the industry. Everyone may be using Google but few local businesses are profiting from the web and mobile boom.
Bryan Pelz, an IT developer, says there is “no means for direct monetization”.
“The banking industry and regulatory environment hasn’t taken strong steps to lay the groundwork for easy online payments. Essentially nobody has credit cards. If you’re building a website and hope to charge users or make a living off of advertising, it’s a tough road in Vietnam.”
And despite talented hackers and software engineers — Flappy Bird was designed by a Vietnamese engineer — with experience and skill comparable to the rest of Asia, software isn’t considered a hugely lucrative field, according to Pelz.
Of those aged 15 – 24, according to Cimigo, 95 per cent are online and spend over two hours each day on the web, via internet cafe, desktop or phone. Ninety five per cent use it for news. Google remains the top rated site in Vietnam, followed by local entertainment hub Zing. News sites Dan Tri and Tuoi Tre also feature, as does Yahoo!, Facebook and YouTube.
Last year a Russian-backed challenger to Google called Coc Coc (knock knock) opened shop. It has aimed to take some of Google’s 97 per cent market share, the reasoning being that Google had no offices in Vietnam and did not have algorithms well written enough to understand Vietnamese well. Unlike other startups it was backed with serious investment and a staff of over 300, according to the AP.
A recent article in The Atlantic reported that Vietnam’s Ministry of Science and Technology has sponsored something called the Silicon Valley Project which aims to push Vietnam to be more than a simple producer of electronic parts (Intel has a 1 billion USD plant in the country) to a tech powerhouse with a strong startup industry and innovative firms. The recent success of Flappy Bird — one of the most downloaded apps ever — is seen as evidence of Vietnam’s larger potential.
Indeed the Silicon Valley Project’s mission statement is not dissimilar to the Communist Party’s mid-1990s ideas about the upcoming “knowledge era”: “This is the time for Vietnam to join in the technology race. Countries which fail to change with this technology-driven world will fall into a vicious cycle of backwardness and poverty.”
This government-backed and sanctioned creativity and entrepreneurship has been lauded, though it’s also been pointed out how it may rather clash with many of the internet restrictions set out in varied laws, such as Decree 72. Of course Vietnam’s ministries do not always march in-sync and what the Ministry of Information and Culture believes to be good may clash with a more pro-tech Ministry of Science and Technology.
The confirmation today that Le Quoc Quan is facing 30 months behind bars, does not bode well for the future of internet freedom in Vietnam.
This article was published on 20 February 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
17 Feb 2014 | Digital Freedom, News, Turkey

Over the past few weeks, the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) in Turkey has deployed a curated mix of paid-for advertising, op-eds in pro-government newspapers, tweets and off-the-cuff press statements to justify their curbs on internet freedom.
One of the most persistent tactics used by AKP has been so-called “porn lobby” smearing. Back in 2011, Umit Boyner, an ex-retail executive and president of the Turkish Industry and Business Association, was decried as “pro-porn” for being anti-censorship. Not only porn – “violent websites,” “instructions on how to kill your mother”, “sex with animals” and more lurid possibilities would come about, argued Bulent Arinc, deputy prime minister, if access to the web was unfettered.
More recently, pro-government newspaper The Star, convinced readers that censorship opposition was coming from the vaguely described “porn lobby.” “So would you want your child to be a victim of sexual abuse, porn, gambling or other hideous acts?” asked editors.
Tweets from AKP deputy Necdet Unuvar (“Today is safer Internet day, they used to call this a censure but they do not anymore,”) and another deputy, Cevdet Erdol, (“All forms of addiction: tobacco, drugs, alcohol, weed, Internet whatever they might be, we continue our struggle against them. For our kids“) sought to conjoin 5651 censorship with AKPs conservative, quasi-religious philosophy: As one analyst translated it “high moral laws: morals to protect the youth.”
The AKP also launched a paid-for advertising campaign: A bruised woman, clearly the victim of domestic violence, with the strapline “Violence is a crime. What about the Internet? Absence of rules does not mean liberty!”
Internet commentator Glyn Moody, who blogged about the bizarre campaign for Techdirt, told Index on Censorship “This extraordinary ad belongs to a tradition of regarding the online world as a kind of lawless “Wild West,” that needed to be tamed.”
Erdogan has also been keen to draw comparisons internationally. On the same day as 2000 protesters clashed with water-cannons in Istanbul, he told a journalist working for Al Jazeera TV network “Turkey is almost more free than some states of the European Union.” He justified his claim: “When you refer to the Gezi Park events, why do you not see the events in Frankfurt, Hamburg? Have you seen what the police did there? Why do you not see [sic] what happens in England?”
Prosecutors in Germany and England were accused of being heavy-handed after protests and street unrest in Frankfurt, Berlin and London in 2011 were met with long jail sentences.
Bulent Arinc has also argued, that Turkey is “freer compared to many other countries,” and “has freedom of the press,” although a week later international NGO Reporters Without Borders slammed the nation in a global survey of journalistic freedoms, ranking it 154th globally.
Pro-government newspapers have even posited a slightly dubious economic argument : Sabah, a daily newspaper considered very favourable towards AKP, argued that Silicon Valley giants would be keener to participate in the Turkish market as the legislation removed prison sentences in favour of punitive fines.
So did all this work? It depends on how you judge success. Emre Kizilkaya, a Turkish journalist, sees censorship as a partisan issue anyway.
“Most AKP voters support it, while almost all opposition voters are against it. So, it has become a partisan issue. As such, the PR campaign probably didn’t swing votes – but it further cemented the position of AKPs own voters.”
Pinar Tremblay, a Turkish analyst and academic, thought understanding of the laws was limited. “The majority of the people are not yet aware what the law entails, because they have not yet experienced it.”
“No matter what the government may say about protecting children or stopping violence against women through censorship,” said Gurkan Ozturan, a citizen journalist and blogger based in Turkey. “everybody knows that those issues are not being addressed to in real life, physically on the street.”
He goes on “This bill has been prepared to re-initiate the government of fear in Turkey. But as with OccupyGezi protests the people have passed beyond the fear-threshold.”
If polling data is to be believed, the AKP now commands 40-50% of Turkish approval ratings. But 5651 has provoked intense street protests, condemnation from human rights groups, and even comparisons with the early days of the Third Reich.
The passing of the legislation provoked half a million tweets, according to media reports, split across English and Turkish hashtags. The pro-censorship hashtag received a handful in comparison.
Still, President Gul – who still needs to ratify the bill, has indicated he will. Turkey is going dark, soon.
This article was posted on February 17, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
13 Feb 2014 | Religion and Culture, Turkey
A companion report: Freedom of expression in the arts and censorship in Kurdish Region, Diyarbakir, Batman
In the course of its research Siyah Bant has conceptualized censorship not just as the banning of artistic expression through legal means but included process of delegitimization, threats, pressure, targeting and hate speech directed at artists and arts institutions that foreclose or delimit the presentation and circulation of artworks. Among the actors that Siyah Bant has identified through site visits throughout Turkey are state institutions, political groups and parties, individuals who act as proxies of the state, neighborhood organizations, as well as actors more closely related to the art world in its narrower sense, such as arts and cultural organizations, curators, funding agencies and sponsors.
As censorship in the arts has been rarely reported in depth, we wanted to contribute to broader public knowledge of the different mechanisms with which freedom of the arts is undermined. We have also aimed to show that censorship in the arts violates both the guaranteed freedom of expression and the arts in the Turkish constitution as well as the international human rights agreements signed by Turkey where freedom of expressions is defined as an indispensable pillar of democracy. At the same time we found that stipulations with regard to ‘national security,’ Turkey’s anti-terror legislation as well as provisions concerning the public order are frequently employed to legitimize censorship and limitations of the freedom in the arts. These interventions are – for the most part – arbitrary and employed for political and ideological reasons, and often for seemingly contradictory ends. Especially the notion of societal sensitivities (toplumsal hassasiyetler) has been increasingly used to delimit freedom of arts by non-state and state actors alike. This line of reasoning has been mirrored by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism as vague conceptions of societal sensitivities along with that of “public morals” (genel ahlak) have been elevated above the state’s mandate and legally stipulated duty of supporting and protecting the arts as well as the artist.[1]
Apart from trying to raise awareness on censorship in the arts and artists’ rights, Siyah Bant has aimed to provide a platform to discuss different strategies in the fight against censorship. While legal activism has emerged as a possible field of mobilizing and organizing,[2] Siyah Bant has also pursued interviews with cultural policy officials as a way of holding the state accountable with regard to its mandate. This has also included following developments in official cultural policy over the past few years, especially as members of the ruling Justice and Development Party (Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi, AKP) have taken an increasingly adversarial stance towards the arts. Prime Minister Erdoğan’s scathing speech about theater workers in Kahramanmaraş in May 2012[3] as elitists who mock ‘the people,’ and former Minister of the Interior, İdris Naim Şahin’s declaration of art as “the backyard of terrorism” in December 2011[4] are but two examples that have left their mark on the art world. Far from signifying mere political discourse, these interventions have paved the way for the current changes in theater funding and have drawn attention to the fact that artists who are engaged in the Kurdish rights struggle have long been charged under anti-terror legislation.
As part of our ongoing research on cultural policy practices that play a vital part in the formation of freedom of the arts and its limitations we conducted a research visit to the Ministry of Culture and Tourism in late October 2013. During this visit we had an opportunity to meet with representatives from the Department of Fine Arts, the Directorate for Cinema, the Directorate of Opera and Ballet as well as with the Directorate of Strategy Development. A meeting with the Minister of Culture and Tourism was requested but could not be scheduled, all questions that we addressed to his office with regard to new policy developments were delegated to the Directorate of Strategic Development. Overall Ministry representatives seemed hesitant to speak with us, yet agreed to our request when we stated that little to none information about the official policies of the Ministry is publicly available at the moment.
The new Minister of Culture and Tourism, Ömer Çelik, took his post on 24 January 2013. His first few months in office were marked by a striking silence on three issues in particular: the redevelopment of Taksim Square, the draft of the Turkish Arts Council law (Türkiye Sanat Kurumu, TÜSAK) that was leaked in the spring of 2013, and the discourses around funding projects that promote family values and public decency, especially in the discipline of cinema. This silence has contributed to the rumor mill running high in the art world, so much so that in November 2013 Ersin Antep asked in the daily Radikal “Will we have a Minister of Culture? (Bizim bir kültür bakanımız olacak mı?).” Antep suggested that many of the programs initiated under Çelik’s predecessor, Ertuğul Günay, had been terminated, including most of the restitution efforts for cultural artifacts that the former Minister of Culture and Tourism had pursued. Çelik has been rumored to mainly work out of the Prime Minister’s Office rather than tending to institution he is heading. The fact that no comprehensive overview over the programs carried out by the current administration has been made public has resulted in rumors running all the more rampant. Günay, had become increasingly vocal with regard to the redevelopment of Taksim (also known as the Taksim Pedestrianization Project, Taksim Yayalaştırma Projesi) – stating that the city was not in need of another shopping mall. Günay also argued that the plans for a mosque to be added on Taksim Square were ill conceived as was the reconstruction of the Ottoman Army Barracks (Topçu Kışlası) that was part of the original redevelopment plan. Being at the heart of Beyoğlu, Taksim Square encompasses the Monument to the Republic and the Atatürk Cultural Center (Atatürk Kültür Merkezi, AKM), which are both under the purview of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism.
Çelik maintained his silence for much of the debate, broken ever so briefly in his response to a parliamentary inquiry by Sezgin Tanrıkulu in June 2013 when he confirmed that during the construction in and around Taksim 16 Armenian tombstones had been found along with remnants of an 18th century wall and parts of a drainage system dating to the same time period. Çelik also noted that archeological artifacts had been found in the larger area surrounding Sıraserviler, Kazancı Yokuşu and on the Tarlabaşı side. During the Gezi protests of May-June 2013 Çelik neither took position on the plans for the redevelopment of Taksim, nor did he announce any further plans for the Atatürk Cultural Center although Prime Minister Erdoğan suggested a complete demolition of the AKM. Since mid-June of 2013 the AKM has been used by the riot police – permanently stationed upfront and using the building as a logistical center. The renovation which has left the Istanbul State Theater, Ballet and Opera without a permanent home was supposed to be concluded by 29 October 2013, but it seems that no work has been done for at least the past seven months. During our visit at the Ministry we were unable to attain any official statement about the future of the AKM. In July the First Administrative Court had already cancelled the Topçu Kışlası Project and the master plan for the redevelopment of Beyoğlu has been voided in December 2013 with the courts decision explicitly stating that the non-participatory manner with which the project was designed makes it untenable. From a cultural policy perspective the court’s decision is notable in a second respect: it explicitly diagnoses a tension between touristic commodification of urban areas and the needs and rights of the inhabitants of these areas. What these two court decisions mean for the fate of the AKM as well as the already conducted construction in and around Taksim Square remains unclear as of the writing of this report.
When in the spring of 2013 a draft of the TÜSAK (Turkish Arts Council) legislation was leaked, it further aggravated concerns that had already been raised in the previous year with the government signaling its intension to privatize the state theater system. The draft as it stands at the moment aims to restructure the entire arts funding system in Turkey by granting support on a project basis and by shifting decision-making powers to state appointed officials rather candidates representing artists’ associations from respective disciplines.
Rengim Gökmen, Director of the Department of State Opera and Ballet, like other officials we meet, was unable to relay any news about the fate of the AKM, despite the organic connection that his department has with its Istanbul counterpart. Gökmen underlined that despite recent additions to concert halls in Istanbul, such as in the Zorlu Center (a shopping mall, residence and entertainment complex), Istanbul is in dire need of a large, central opera, ballet and theater stage. Gökmen stressed that the programming of the Directorate had stayed independent since its inception and that no signs to a contrary development exist at the moment.
Gökmen noted that he had not received any official communication about the TÜSAK draft that has generated heated discussions in the art world over the past few months. However, he also pointed out that funding on a project-basis would be inappropriate for institutions that have performance seasons as well as year-round rehearsal schedules such as theater, opera and ballet. While Gökmen, like many of his colleagues from the field of theater, supports a reform of the state theater-system, he emphatically argued that any such reform needs to take into account the artistic production practices of each discipline in order to be equitable and artistically viable. Gökmen remarked that he sees great danger in delegating opera and ballet to the private sector, as a mere reliance on market rationales is detrimental to artistic autonomy and hence adversarial to the inner workings of art. Instead he suggested regular performance evaluations that would enable a “career system” within the state’s performing arts institutions, i.e. opening a path for professional advancement based on performance rather than the application of civil servants’ promotion criteria.
Gökmen expressed that within the current peace process art plays an exponent role with its capacity to create encounters and empathy. This topic came up repeatedly during our interviews with other officials as well, for instance by Directorate for the Fine Arts. Yet, these assertions tend to be rather general, although it is notable that cultural diversity and especially past cultural production by minorities is mentioned far more frequently and directly than during our visit in 2012. Asked for concrete examples, interfaith encounters and musical events are often referenced as well as a range of CDs that the Ministry of Culture and Tourism has produced focusing on the oeuvre of minority composers and lyricists. But as will be outlined in more detail in the second part of this report, these advances by the Ministry for Culture and Tourism are in stark contrast to the daily experiences of Kurdish artists and their working conditions, for instance.
Like Gökmen, Nihat Değirmenci, deputy director of the Department for Fine Arts responded that he “followed the TÜSAK debate from the press, as everyone else” and hence did not see himself able to give an assessment on the possible course of the draft and the impact it might have on the make-up of Turkey’s arts sector.
One of the most pressing issues over the past few decades has been the – to a large extent – ongoing exclusion of contemporary art from the funding and other activities from state support. While the Ministry still holds yearly competitions in painting and photography, there are no programs for visual arts in the boarder sense, no funding categories for individual artists or structural support for contemporary art institutions. Grievances over this omission have been voiced repeatedly over the past two decades, especially as contemporary art from Turkey has gained increasing international recognition. This lack is even more pronounced in the city of Ankara itself, where there is a remarkable shortage of non-commercial contemporary art spaces. Opened in 2010 the Cer Modern was to amend this lack, however, hopes tied to this space never really materialized (as was previously the case with the Çankaya Belediyesi Çağdaş Sanatlar Merkezi established in 1998[5]) as the space is managed as an event hall rented out for large-scale functions like weddings, for example, rather than a contemporary arts center. Independent arts initiatives, such as CAVA (Cinema Audio and Visual Arts) that have conducted workshops on the premises have voiced their discontent about the direction of Cer Modern or terminated their relationship to the space altogether. The Ministry, however, does not seem to share these concerns. Quite to the contrary, Cer Modern seems to be regarded as a successful model. At the same time there is an awareness that contemporary art should be included within the purview of the Ministry, but our inquiries over the past two years have been met with the reasoning that there are no legal precepts to do so at the moment. It could be argued, however, that rather than a missing legal framework it is missing practice that produces this asymmetry with regard to contemporary art.
Within the field of cinema two issues have especially come to the fore over the past two years. Firstly, the rating system that has been increasingly employed to effectively limit the circulation of certain films by enforcing harsh age limits. There is, of course, an important and valid basis to age-limit provisions in Turkey as well as internationally in order to protect minors from potentially disturbing and harmful images. Yet debates have erupted about the ways in which these provision have been used to legitimize broader infringements on the freedom of expression that surpass the protection of minors,[6] especially since this rating is tied to the eser işletme belgesi, a certificate necessary for commercial distribution. Until recently this certificate was not required when films were intended for festival use, i.e. noncommercial screenings. While legal scholar Ulaş Karan argues that this procedure is indeed in accord with official regulations, the Ministry has decided to reinterpret the distribution provisions and make them requirements for festival films as well. Cases such as the film “Berivan” or “Dersim 38” that were deemed ineligible for distribution certificates have raised concerns that political preferences rather than the protection of minors are at stake. As during our last visit our inquiries with regard to the eser işletme belgesi have been consistently deflected by insisting on framing the issue in terms of technicalities and of the protection of minors rather than political sensitivities and preferences or pluralism. In addition, the Directorate of Cinema has consistently argued that its rating procedures present a harmonization measure with European Union standards and hence a necessity arising from European co-production agreements signed by the Turkish government in the early 2000s.
Secondly, in January 2012 Cem Erkul, director of the Cinema Department, announced that funding priorities would shift to “family films,”[7] leaving question marks as to what kind of movies would qualify as such and how the respective selection criteria employed by the award committees would be formulated. During our last visit these questions were once again deflected by noting that the composition of selection committees had not changed and that along with a representative from the Directorate those of the filmmakers’ associations were still present in the selection process. Yet, it was also made clear to us that “as a social welfare state” the cultural needs of society overall, rather than ‘niche interests,’ needed to be taken into consideration. It was emphasized that the Ministry does not aim to ‘just’ fund arthouse movies but sees it as part of its duty to fund potential blockbusters as well. This understanding notably diverges from the rationale of art funding in democratic settings, where state support is intended to help exactly the kind cultural production that would otherwise not be viable. Surely much of the discussions around cutting arts funding throughout the EU has been conducted with the same rationale, i.e. that under tightening economic conditions, market viability is increasingly conceptualized as fulfilling both cultural needs and evidencing worthiness of government support. It is likewise notable that the much-mentioned increase in international interest in cinema from Turkey has centered largely on small, independent films that have garnered awards at international festivals, rather than being box office hits. Yet the Directorate seems vindicated in its general practice by pointing to the rapid increase in national film production (e.g. while there were only nine local films in the 2002 screening cycle, this number went up to 62 in 2013). The Directorate has also indicated that it wants to extent incentives for foreign film productions in Turkey, not least by co-financing such productions.
Recent news that the Ministry will retract funding from films rated suitable for age 18 and above have increased concerns in the film sector about how age restrictions might be further instrumentalized for political purposes.[8] It is very likely that this new guideline will further the precarious economic standing of independent filmmakers and engender self-censorship due to the fear of loosing much sought after public funding. This regulation will also allow the Directorate to intervene into decisions of final cuts, in order to meet age restrictions eligible for this funding, rather than making decisions based on the artistic integrity of a given work.
The Cinema Directorate stresses that they are concerned with the art of the moving image overall. However, they do not advocate on behalf of filmmakers who regularly face onslaughts on the integrity of their work through unauthorized edits of their film when sold to TV stations, be it to make room for commercials or to make movies eligible for certain time slots. At times this practice serves to circumvent age restrictions, at others to adhere to real or imagined notions of public decency, especially when it comes to content that diverges from hetero-normative presets. The Directorate relegates such responsibilities to the TV channels themselves as well as to RTÜK (Radyo ve Televizyon Üst Kurulu, the Radio and Television Supreme Council that monitors and regulates radio and television broadcasts), with the exception of age restrictions that need to be heeded by the channels.
The Office for Strategic Development (Strateji Geliştirme Başkanlığı) has recently completed the National Cultural Policy Review and has been responsible for developing new policy objectives and visions. We had a chance to meet with Mahmut Evkuran, the Director for Strategic Development. While Evkuran admitted that cultural policy objectives have not been communicated clearly by the Ministry to the general public as well as the arts community, he seemed at a loss why the TÜSAK draft has induced this amount of panic and rumors, especially since discussions about these kinds of reforms stretch back to the early 1990s. He repeatedly stated that all artists’ association will be informed and consulted and that the draft is still at an early stage. It remains unclear, however, when further amendments to the draft will be made and how such consultations, if at all, will be conducted. As in the area of cinema Evkuran stressed that examples from the EU were being evaluated in the assemblage of the TÜSAK proposal.
Asked about the striking lack of support for contemporary art which garnering increased international attention over the past 20 years has by default served as a vehicle for cultural diplomacy, Evkuran conceded that this part of the arts sector indeed was “incredibly dynamic” and that “one has to think about how to embrace this dynamism” both institutionally and legally. Rehabilitation and restoration of cultural heritage were identified as the primary goals of the Ministry. He himself seemed to define cultural diplomacy in terms of restitution of cultural artifacts to Turkey however, and was more concerned with integrating the ‘traditional arts’ within the purview of official cultural policy. While Evkuran is correct in that traditional arts have been largely left out of art history curricula in Turkey and tended to mainly by civil society and nonprofit organizations, this does not necessarily mean that this inclusion has to be conducted in lieu of funding contemporary artistic production.
When asked about the state of freedom of expression and censorship in Turkey, Evkuran emphasized many of the aspects that were part of the recent “democracy package” announced by the government in October 2013, such as restitution of the estate surrounding Mor Gabriel and the freedom to were a headscarf in public service and public institutions. He noted that other minority properties would also be returned, although he conceded that decisions would be made on a case-by-case basis. Evkuran gave much emphasis to the appropriation of certain works of Kurdish literature such as Mem û Zîn, an edition of which was printed by the Ministry in 2012, and the oeuvre of film director Yilmaz Güney. The Ministry has prepared a disk set of all his films, many of which were banned in Turkey during his lifetime. Evkuran also highlighted the Presidential Honor posthumously accorded to Ahmet Kaya; although as he himself noted this initiative was taken by President Abdullah Gül rather than the Ministry itself. Much emphasis was given to the entire protocol of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism as well as other government officials attending the Kurdish language performance of Hamlet in Ankara in November 2012. Yet Evkuran failed to point out that this production was actually performed by the Diyabakir Municipal Theater, which has staged plays in Kurdish throughout the past decade and often under threats and continual harassment by Turkish security forces. While his examples surely present steps towards acknowledging minority cultural production and heritage, a vast asymmetry between these showcases and daily practices remains (see Part II of this report). This also became clear when Evkuran pointed to the ‘legalization of the Kurdish language’ and the freedom to take on Kurdish names both on an individual basis and in the case of place names. Given the fact that education in Kurdish is still not available within the public school system, this assessment seems overly positive. This became even clearer when we asked Evkuran about the governors who banned Kurdish language events or film screenings with political content. According to Evkuran these instances mark reflexes of the “old order” of Turkey and that these kinds of asymmetries are to be expected. He also added that at times security concerns voiced by authorities might be valid.
It has become somewhat commonplace to argue amongst cultural policy officials in Turkey that the Ministry of Culture and Tourism does not actually follow changing political trends but has been on more or less the same path since its inception. Yet, the above shows that changing political discourses have actual implications for cultural policy formations. However, this is not to argue that all in the Ministry present homogeneous takes on different issues. Asked about the increasing discourses about “conservative art” (muhafazakar sanat), for example, some noted that the combination of “conservative” and “art” presents a misnomer as art per definition is progressive and thus responsible for pushing existing boundaries and exploring new grounds. Many admitted that these kinds of questions may very well be an issue of politics, but less for artistic practice and production; although it was also noted that these and other topics should be open to discussion. The same holds true for the much-used notion of ‘societal sensitivities.’ Some acknowledged that such possible sensitivities needed taken into account, but emphasized that they did not feel restricted in the programming of their departments and stressed the pioneering character of art as opening up new, hitherto unexplored spaces.
When asked about the critique of the elitism of the artistic establishment and especially the state theater system that has been launched by the governing AKP over the past few years, it was often noted that politicians were free to express admiration or discontent with the state of the arts or certain artworks. A common argument was that these kinds of reactions should be read as a sign that art is noticed and noticeable, and hence a positive sign in itself.
Apart from the structural issues that arise from subsuming culture and tourism, and hence two policy areas that have quite different goal orientations, as many in the Ministry too admit, under the same administrative unit, the Ministry till fails to exhibit an active advocacy for artists as is required by Articles 27 and 64 of the Constitution. Together these articles not only guarantee freedom of expression in the arts but also hold the state responsible in supporting the arts and artists. There also remains a disconnect between the ideals of cultural policy in liberal democracies and practices in the Turkish context emerged in officials’ disconcertedness about artists who are in the state theater system, but vocal about criticizing the government, as for instance, during the recent Gezi protests. While this is surely a contentious issue everywhere, receiving government fund should not foreclose the possibility of critiquing government policies.
[1] See Banu Karaca, “When Duty Calls…: Questions of Sensitivity and Responsibility in Light of the Tophane Events,” Red Thread e-journal (November 2011); Siyahbant (Istanbul, 2012) and Siyahbant, Sanatta İfade Özgürlüğü, Sansür ve Hukuk (Istanbul, 2013)
[2] Siyahbant, Sanatta İfade Özgürlüğü, Sansür ve Hukuk (Istanbul, 2013).
[3] Siyahbant, “Başbakan Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’ın Kahramanmaraş Mitingi konusması” (Istanbul, 2012), 52-53.
[4] Siyahbant, “Sevgili İçişleri Bakanımız, ne diyorsak tersinden anlayınız!” (Istanbul, 2012), 50-51.
[5] Beral Madra, “Ankara çağdaş sanata çok uzak,” Radikal Online, 23 May 2009; Ferhat Özgür, “Anakara’da tarihi bir firsat,” Radikal Online, 30 May 2009
[6] Majorie Heins, Not in Front of the Children: “Indecency,” Censorship, and the Innocence of Youth (New York: Hill and Wang, 2001).
[7] See “‘Malkoçoğlu desteğine’ sinemacı kazan kaldırdı”, Radikal Online, 22 January 2012
[8] “Tiyatrodan sonra sinemaya da ahlak kriteri geldi,” Radikal Online, 25 December 2013
This report on the effects of cultural policy and its effects on freedom of the arts was conducted by Siyah Bant with the support of the Friedrich Ebert Foundation. It is reproduced here with permission.
This article was posted on February 13, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org