5 Nov 2013 | News and features, Religion and Culture, Vietnam

In late October blogger Dinh Nhat Uy became the first activist sentenced in Vietnam for his Facebook posts, or, more specifically “abusing democratic freedoms” via Facebook (the much-used Article 258 of the legal code). Uy received a 15 month suspended sentence and in that regard he is luckier than the legion of bloggers, writers and activists who have been sent to prison or rehabilitation centres by the government in recent years.
But it is not just bloggers and activists who fall under the government’s watchful eye. Cultural activities from web comics to concerts are also monitored, for sex as much as sedition.
On October 4 General Vo Nguyen Giap passed away at age 102. Two weeks later during the weekend of the war hero’s funeral, most television channels shut down as a mark of respect. The odd BBC report is blocked, sex – but not violence – is cut from many overseas films shown domestically and subtitles often substitute perceived offensive language with more innocuous words. That television, along with nightlife and karaoke, was essentially cancelled shows just how much the old general was revered, and how the government still controls much of the means of communication in Vietnam. Those TV stations which did keep broadcasting showed old revolutionary films.
Bloggers are regularly jailed for pointing out state failings. Journalists face myriad restrictions from the state-owned press. Protesters and those handing out leaflets or organising strikes are also jailed. Facebook, now accessible, was quietly blocked for years and there are still sites one needs a workaround to access. Transparency International, Reporters Without Borders, Human Rights Watch, even Barack Obama, all decry Vietnam’s lack of freedom of speech.
But did you know, you can’t write about blow jobs in women’s magazines? Art, music, pop stars, books, comics, web comics, blogs, foreign news, lifestyle magazines, television subtitles, newspaper articles, research, the findings of market research, unflattering film footage, photographs, song lyrics, religious events, religious books, tour guides’ scripts: all are censored and watched closely by authorities.
Sometimes it’s nothing more than the relevant ministry fining a singer a piddling amount for revealing outfits during a performance as it is “not in keeping with Vietnamese fine traditions”. This is duly reported by papers and websites on slow news days and invariably gives the singer in question more publicity.
This process is piecemeal, contradictory and opaque. Are many rules unclear and often not enforced to keep people on their toes? Or is it simply the uncoordinated and sometimes inept efforts Vietnamese bureaucrats are known for country-wide? It is hard to say.
Once, artists had to submit sketches of their proposed paintings not only before they were given paint. These days things are less draconian but more uncertain. Galleries still need approval before exhibitions are allowed to go ahead; sometimes galleries simply won’t have an official exhibition party. As one art insider said, “there is no one rule.”
September 2009’s Decision 97 doesn’t limit expression but research, to 317 pre-approved topics. One of its most immediate effects was to force the disbanding of the well-respected Institute for Development Studies, which did so of its own volition in protest. Its 16-person membership was made up of Party members and well-known intellectuals, not rabble rousers.
All books in Vietnamese must be, in theory and usually in practice, subject to vetting. Even the Quran when translated into Vietnamese and published locally had to be examined first, according to several ethnic Cham, who are adherents of Islam. There has even been the odd raid on foreign book stores, such as in 2012, to confiscate Lonely Planet Vietnam guidebooks which had maps of the South China Sea which, given the ongoing flare ups with China over disputed island territories, is very firmly referred to as the East Sea in Vietnam.
Randy Slocum runs a bookshop in a tourist town in central Vietnam. He recalled trying to import books when he first opened seven years ago. “When I imported my 3,000 books, they confiscated 450 titles for being ‘depraved and reactionary’. Mostly Harlequin romance novels if you can believe it. But they are also interested in religion, anything about the American War, things about revolution. But they refuse to give you a list of what is banned and they refuse to give reasons why certain books are taken.” It is worth noting that Slocum was at the mercy of the provincial authority, not a draconian arm of Hanoi’s Ministry of Tourism, Sport and Culture, which is largely responsible for much cultural oversight.
The only time cultural censorship reached much of an international audience was when Bob Dylan played Ho Chi Minh City in 2011. He, as he has so often, neglected to play ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’. Both Human Rights Watch and American columnist Maureen Dowd pilloried him for giving in to censorship from communist authorities. However sources close to the show’s organisers said 100 songs, including Blowin’ in the Wind, had been approved. In any case, Dylan’s allegory and circumspection might have made his meanings hard to catch for censors whose first language is not English.
One organiser said, “You have to understand, what the authorities are looking for is actually just profanity and overtly sexual lyrics. It is a moral thing rather than a political one.”
Whilst serious news journalists can face arrest for reporting on corruption, even lifestyle or expat magazines have to tread carefully.
The first issue of Cosmopolitan, which began its Vietnamese-language issue with a local publishing company a few years ago, had a handy guide of the effects of alcohol on one’s orgasm, illustrated by graphics of the ratio of wine glasses to fireworks (two or three drinks is the perfect amount; they start to sputter to nothing after that). The headline mentioned “love” (in those knowing quote marks), not sex.
More generally in this area of publishing words like “him”, “triangle” or, in English, “Mr Happy” (in an article on blow job technique) are employed. Even when the correct, medical terms are employed for the varied body parts censors still apparently refuse, saying it’s “too sensitive”.
“We try to be different many times but the government won’t let us. You cannot write this, it not go with traditional (sic),” an unnamed editor explained. She said the internet was different, plenty of people wrote about sex.
These magazines, by and large, appeal to the educated middle classes. These are the same people, it has long been supposed by optimistic liberals worldwide, who will be behind either a revolution or a gradual ease in political restrictions in any repressive regime. A rising and educated middle class is also a hope of the government as Vietnam tries to move into a middle income country status. Yet they’re not allowed to see a tattoo or a wine bottle in a magazine. The exception is SOME men’s magazines with barely dressed models, which are not uncommon.
Even magazines in English are wary. Vietnamese censors may miss the nuance in a bar review noting the number of friendly young women eager for your company, but a feature on issues sex workers face is problematic enough for editors to avoid.
Content which “abuses democratic freedoms” (Article 258) is never clearly defined but in practice can be anything that criticises the government. Content which “sabotages national fine custom and tradition” or is “not in keeping with Vietnamese tradition” can be anything from a pop star’s stupid hairstyle to art that is covertly critical of the government or ruling elites, but given more leeway here people often actually end up more confused and sometimes even more conservative as a result.
This article was originally posted on 5 Nov 2013 at indexoncensorship.org
28 Oct 2013 | Egypt, News and features

An image from Ghada Wali’s Film Ikhwany
A London gallery has found itself in a censorship dispute, after deciding not to exhibit 12 prints satirising Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood and jailed former president Mohamed Morsi.
In The City, an exhibition dealing with the four Arab cities of Alexandria, Algiers, Baghdad and Nablus, is currently taking place at the P21 Gallery. Twelve posters by Egyptian artist and graphic designer Ghada Wali, making up the piece Film Ikhwany, were supposed to be part of the Alexandria portion. Using images of Mohamed Morsi on a series of film posters, it aims to deny the “‘Brotherhoodisation’ of Egypt”.
However, four days before the opening on 26 September, curator Danah Abdulla was told by the gallery that the prints were not to be exhibited after all. She was told they had taken legal counsel and that the images were deemed “too risky”. She was asked to find new pieces to go in their place.
When she challenged the decision, she was told the work was too politicised and did not fit in with the rest of the exhibition. This came after the images had been used in press releases. When she kept pushing the issue, it was suggested she alter the posters to remove text that could be perceived as controversial.
“I was told the gallery was not a political space, but they have had two extremely political exhibitions in the past,” she said, referring to their recent one dealing with the Syrian civil war. “This exhibition is not purely political, it is about the city, therefore you do touch on the politics. I’m not going to pretend the city is unicorns and ponies.”
“The work is opinion, it’s not fact. Everything is opinion, it’s not stating anything factual. It’s freedom of expression, plain and simple, so I didn’t really understand why they were so worried about the work,” she explained.
The designer Ghada Wali said she wanted to shed light on the political struggle in Egypt through her work, but never though it would be deemed too risky to exhibit in the UK, where freedom of expression is valued and protected.
“At the end of the day, I am a free artist; I sense what I want to communicate in my artworks and which angle to tackle. This is art after all, it is not science and not literature that can be proved wrong. In Egypt, where the political agony is actually happening, I still can never be deprived of displaying my pieces. Yes, my designs can be sprayed by brotherhood supporters because they disagree with me, however I can never find an official entity crossing out my work.”
She added: “As an artist, I believe that my work has to play around the edges of the issue. My core belief as a person and my mission as an artist is to tackle a real issue. However, maybe drawing around a real issue nowadays is perceived as ‘risky’?”
The images have since been displayed London’s Hardy Tree Gallery as a solo show, with the title “The Censored”.
“It’s not to embarrass the [P21] gallery. It’s to say this [censorship] is happening here in London, and it shouldn’t happen,” concluded Abdulla.
Index has made repeated attempts to contact P21, but so far have not revceived a response to our questions.
UPDATE:
P21 responded with a statement saying the works did not adequately support the exhibition narrative, and there were worries they would “negatively impact the exhibition, the P21 Gallery and the other 11 designer’s exhibiting works.” They added that there were concerns about the level of attention the curator appeared to be placing on Film Ikhwany, as well as “about the Gallery being used for an offshore political agenda with indications that the graphic designer in Egypt was influencing the exhibition via the curator.”
They also said a number of alternative options were offered to and discussed with Danah Abdulla, including postponing the show, contact the designer directly to find a solution and exhibiting other works by the designer in future shows.
Find the rest of Film Ikhwany below, courtesy of Ghada Wali:









This article was originally posted on 28 Oct 2013 at indexoncensorship.org
7 Oct 2013 | China, Egypt, News and features, Politics and Society

Image Adham Khorshed/Demotix
Egypt and China have always ranked poorly on press freedom. In 2013, Egypt ranked 158th while China ranked 173rd out of 178 nations in Reporters Without Borders Press Freedom Index. In recent months, a government crackdown on free expression in the two countries has shown disturbing similarities with repressive tactics used by the two regimes to silence dissent being invariably the same.
On a recent trip to Beijing, I was struck by how the authorities in both Egypt and China persistently use the media to serve their own interests and to tighten their grip on power. In both countries, opinion leaders, rights activists and critics who challenge those in power are perceived as “a national threat” and often become targets of intimidation, physical assaults, detention and sometimes, even death. The predicament of some journalists and bloggers in the two countries serves as a chilling reminder of the hazards media workers are subjected to as they strive to tell the story.
Thanks to heavy internet censorship in China — including the blacklisting of a host of foreign websites — the country has been described by free speech advocates as “a world leader in repression of the internet”. A draconian campaign against online “rumourmongers” has recently fuelled fears of even tighter government control on social media and online expression and increased self-censorship in China.
The so-called “anti rumour” campaign unveiled on 9 September allows Chinese authorities to arrest and jail internet users accused of “spreading false rumours” for up to three years. The ruling applies to internet activists who deliberately post what the government perceives as “false information” which is then shared by at least 500 others or is viewed at least 5,000 times. Critics warn the campaign will give the government an excuse to crush rights activists, bloggers and independent news providers who challenge the authorities or report abuses by the government as well as those demanding greater freedom and democracy.
In a widening crackdown on free expression in recent weeks , China has seen sweeping arrests of government critics, rights activists and opinion leaders accused of “disturbing public order”. While many of them remain in custody, 16-year-old Yang Hui–a school student who had been among the first group of bloggers jailed on charges of “spreading online rumours”– was released late September after spending a week behind bars in Gansu province. He remains under police surveillance however, and has been prohibited from speaking publicly. Yang was detained after questioning an investigation into the death of a man whose body had been found outside a karaoke club. Police had claimed that the man had fallen to his death from the building and had closed the case, but Yang insisted that the case should have been probed further. Moreover, he had posted comments daring the authorities to arrest him.
Repressive measures to silence dissent are not peculiar to the Chinese government. In recent days, a leaked video posted by activists on YouTube has shown Egyptian military generals discussing plans for a media clampdown similar to that imposed by the Chinese authorities . The footage — which appears to have been shot some months before Islamist President Mohamed Morsi was toppled: The video shows officers wearing winter uniforms — shows Defense Minister Abdel Fattah El Sissi addressing the officers . The recording starts with a senior officer urging El Sissi to re-establish red lines for the media and find new ways of “neutralizing media outlets”. He also calls on El Sissi to engage with owners of media outlets directly. “There are twenty to twenty five people controlling the media in Egypt, ” the senior officer notes. “We could either win them over or terrorize them”, he adds. El Sissi jokingly responds that he knows how to win them over but asks how he could possibly terrorize them?
That however does not rule out plans by the military generals to control the media. El Sissi acknowleges in the video that “we have been concerned with controlling the media” since the army took over power in February 2011. He goes on to affirm that the military was working on doing so and was achieving positive results but “we are yet to achieve what we want”, he says.
Since Morsi’s ouster, the tone of Egyptian media has shifted, reflecting the interests of those now in power. Print journalists and TV talk show hosts have persistently cheered on the powerful armed forces as “the guardians of the revolution” while demonizing the Muslim Brotherhood as a ” terrorist organization”.
Meanwhile, the military-backed interim government has cracked down on journalists covering the anti coup protests. In recent weeks, several journalists have reported harassment by police and soldiers including physical assaults, molestation, confiscation of their equipment and detentions. Worse still, journalists at the frontlines are getting caught in the crossfire. Mick Deane, a British Sky News cameraman, was shot and killed while covering the violent breakup of a pro- Morsi protest camp in Cairo in August. Egyptian Journalist Habiba Ahmed Abd Elaziz was also shot dead near the Rabaah al-Adawiya mosque in Cairo the very same day as security forces moved in on the pro- Morsi sit-in demanding the reinstatement of the toppled Islamist President. Abu Dra’aa , a Sinai-based journalist working with the independent Al Masry El Youm recently faced a military tribunal for a post on his Facebook wall suggesting that the military was misinforming the public about its offensive in Sinai. He was handed a six month suspended jail sentence. A number of other journalists including several working for Al Jazeera (which has been accused of being biased towards the Muslim Brotherhood) remain in custody. Several pro- Muslim Brotherhood channels (including Al Jazeera Mubasher) and Al Faraeen, a private channel owned by controversial talk show host Tawfeek Okasha, have been shut down. While the latter has recently been allowed back on the air, its temporary closure sends a powerful warning message to other channels to “adopt the pro-military state line or risk a similar fate.”
Meanwhile, the military has been using the media to fuel xenophobic sentiment: In remarks to state owned daily Al Ahram,after the brutal massacre outside the Republican Guard Headquarters in July, an unnamed military source warned that “the foreign press is inciting sedition between the army and people. ” With the surge in xenophobic sentiment gripping the country in the aftermath of the June 30 military takeover, foreign correspondents covering the Tahrir rallies commemorating the October 1973 War last Sunday expressed concern on Twitter about possibly being mistaken for “foreign spies”.
“There are rumours of a no-foreigner rule in Tahrir Square today. Can anyone confirm?” asked Louisa Loveluck, a freelance journalist based in Cairo . The BBC’s Middle East Correspondent Quentin Sommerville meanwhile posted a picture of himself near a military tank in Tahrir Square ahead of the protests with the sarcastic byline “foreign spy in Tahrir” before quickly deleting it , possibly for fear it may evoke unwarranted anger.
Nationalistic fervour and a rising tide of xenophobia are characteristics shared by all countries where autocratic regimes use the media to consolidate their grip on power. Egypt and China are no exception to the rule. The muzzling of the press through continued intimidation and the sweeping arrests of journalists, bloggers and rights activists bears testimony to the fact that neither country is serious about carrying out the desired democratic reforms.
This article was originally posted on 7 Oct 2013 at indexoncensorship.org
23 Sep 2013 | News and features

Brad Camembert / Shutterstock.com
It never occurred to me, when I started to write that what I was writing was controversial. Much of it grew out of my own feelings and concerns when I was young.
There were few challenges to my books then, although I remember the night a woman phoned, asking if I had written Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. When I replied that I had, she called me a communist and slammed down the phone. I never did figure out if she equated communism with menstruation or religion, the two major concerns in 12-year-old Margaret’s life.
But, in 1980, the censors crawled out of the woodwork, seemingly overnight, organised and determined. Not only would they decide what their children could read, but what all children could read. Challenges to books quadrupled within months, and we shall never know how many teachers, school librarians and principals quietly removed books to avoid trouble.
Censorship grows out of fear and, because fear is contagious, some parents are easily swayed. Book banning satisfies their need to feel in control of their children’s lives. This fear is often disguised as moral outrage. They want to believe that if their children do not read about it, their children will not know about it. And if they do not know about it, it will not happen.
Today, it is not only language and sexuality (the usual reasons given for banning my books) that will land a book on the censors’ hit list. It is Satanism, New Age-ism and a hundred other ‘isms’, some of which would be laughable if the implications were not so serious. Books that make kids laugh often come under suspicion; so do books that encourage kids to think, or question authority; books that don’t hit the reader over the head with moral lessons are considered dangerous.
My book Blubber was banned in Montgomery County, Maryland, for ‘lack of moral tone’ and, more recently, challenged in Canton, Ohio, for allowing evil behaviour to go unpunished. But in New Zealand it is used in teacher-training classes to help explain classroom dynamics. Censors do not want children exposed to ideas different from their own. If every individual with an agenda had his or her way, the shelves in the school library would be close to empty.
But I am encouraged by a new awareness. This year I have received a number of letters from young people who are studying censorship in their classes. And in many communities across the country, students from elementary through to high school are becoming active (along with caring adults) in the fight to maintain their right to read and their right to choose books. They are speaking before school boards, and, more often than not, when they do, the books in question are returned to the shelves.
Only when readers of all ages become active, only when readers are willing to stand up to the censors, will the censors get the message that they cannot frighten us.
Judy Blume writes books for readers of all ages. This article was first published in Index on Censorship magazine in 1993
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