The Press Under Martial Law By Rosalinda Pineda-Ofreneo The Manipulated Press Cacho Hermanos, 1984 Martial Law

was declared on Sept. 21, 1972. The following day, President Marcos issued Letter of Instruction No. 1 ordering the Press Secretary and the Defense Secretary "to take over and control or cause the taking over and control of the mass media for the duration of the national emergency, or until otherwise ordered by the President or by his duly-designated representatives." Initial Clampdown As a result of this order, all newspapers and magazines (including student publications) were closed down. Among these were the more critical periodicals classified as anti-Marcos, notably the Manila Times, Daily Mirror, and Taliba of the Roces clan; Manila Chronicle of Eugenio Lopez; Philippines Free Press of the Locsins; Graphic of Tonypet Araneta; and Asia-Philippines Leader of the Jacintos. At the same time, leading media men were arrested and detained. Among them were publishers Joaquin P. Roces and Eugenio Lopez, Jr.; editors Amando Doronila and Luis Mauricio; columnists Maximo Soliven and Ernesto Granada; and reporters Napoleon Rama and Roberto Ordoez. On Sept. 25, the Department of Public Information (DPI) issued two orders. Order No. 1 stipulated that all media publications were to be cleared first by the DPI and that the mass media shall publish objective news reports, whether of local or foreign source. No editorial comment shall be permitted. Extraneous materials are not to be inserted in any news item. Expressly prohibited are materials that are seditious or that tend toward disorder, lawlessness, and violence. In view of the state of national emergency in the Philippines, no foreign correspondence may be filed in this country which criticizes the Government and its duly constituted authorities. Order No. 2 prohibited printers "from producing any form of publication for mass dissemination without permission from the DPI." On Oct. 28, Presidential Decree No. 33 came out, penalizing "the printing, possession, distribution, and circulation of printed materials which are immoral or indecent, or which defy the Government or its officers, or which tend to undermine the integrity of the Government or the stability of the State." The penalty for violation shall be "prision correccional in its minimum period." With martial law, publications allowed to operate were limited to those controlled by persons identified with or close to the Marcos Administration. Among them were the Philippines Daily

Express of Roberto Benedicto, Times Journal of Benjamin Romualdez, Bulletin Today of Hans Menzi, and Evening Post of the Tuveras. Media-Regulating Bodies On Nov. 2, 1972, the Mass Media Council (MMC) was created through Presidential Decree No. 36 and assigned the task of "passing upon applications of mass media for permission to operate, so that no newspaper, magazine, periodical or publication of any kind, radio, television or telecommunications facility, station or network may commence operations without first obtaining from the Mass Media Council a certificate of authority to operate." This certificate "should be duly signed by the President, and should be in force for six months, renewable for another six months thereafter, unless otherwise earlier terminated." The MMC was composed of the Secretary of Public Information as chairman; the Secretary of National Defense as co-chairman; one representation from the mass media to be appointed by the President as member; and the Chairman of the Radio Control Board as head of the secretariat. The reason given for Decree No. 36 was that "the mass media in the 'Old Society' had been used in a conspiracy against the Government and had taken part in that conspiracy either by direct willful participation, or by indirectly giving aid and comfort to the forces of insurgency and subversion seeking to overthrow the Government by organized violence." On Nov. 9, General Order No. 12-C came out. It provided that "military tribunals shall handle cases of persons who operate any communication medium without the certificate of authority duly signed by the Philippine President as provided under PD No. 36." On May 11, 1973, through Presidential Decree No. 191, the MMC was abolished. The decree noted "that the government's objective was to help in the development of mass media so that they would become effective instruments in the attainment of social change; that the mass media have already shown full appreciation of the fact that their failure to institute self-regulatory measures resulted in government intervention; and that the mass media have demonstrated willingness to institute a system of self-regulation and internal discipline within their ranks." In place of the MMC, the Media Advisory Council (MAC) was formed, with the President of the National Press Club (NPC) as chairman; a civic leader appointed by the President as cochairman; one representative each from the Manila Overseas Press Club, the print sector, the radio sector, and the television sector, and persons appointed by the President, as members. The MAC was empowered to issue certificates of authority to operate the mass media subject to approval by the President. It supervised the privately-owned media, while the Bureau of Standards for Mass Media (under the DPI) created through Letter of Implementation No. 12 continued to exercise control over government-owned media. Primitivo Mijares, as chairman of the MAC, outlined basic principles to be followed. These included freedom of the press, guided by a sense of responsibility and discipline, without any control, supervision, or censorship from any government body; recognition of limitations to press

freedom, including the laws on libel, invasion of privacy, obscenity, and good taste, and on national security. Emphasis was placed on the last "during a period of national emergency, as occasioned by the existence of an insurrection, rebellion, public disorder, or a state of war itself being waged by organized groups acting on orders from foreign elements." During its short existence of about one and a half years, the MAC was able to flex its muscles considerably. It "continually sent out advisers through the Philippines News Agency or through direct communication to mass media offices to downplay or ignore stories which it feels are not conducive to the development of an atmosphere of tranquility." Among such stories were those connected with the armed Muslim rebellion in Mindanao, which reached its high point in early 1973; the murder of a notorious gang leader; and "alarmist" reports of a cholera outbreak in Pangasinan. There were some cases when MAC actually exercised its disciplinary powers. A Bulletin columnist was suspended and the space allotted to him was left blank for a day because in a previous article, he had compared the cost of maintaining the old Congress and the martial-law government, thus making an issue out of the latter's desirability. Even those writing for publications identified with the regime were not spared for their lapses. The Express business editor was sacked for publishing an Associated Press report about the "widening support for martial law," but whose last paragraph maintained that "the armed forces are divided on the issue." As a result, too, of this "error in judgment," the AP was suspended for a few days. In a similar incident, a business columnist of the Express was sent a reminder after he had written about the effects of curfew (a direct offshoot of martial law) on night-clubs, cocktail lounges, and other enterprises which made business in the evening. A notable case, which the MAC chose to ignore involved Focus Magazine, published by Kerima Polotan-Tuvera and printed at the government-run National Media Production Center. On July 14, 1973, a poem entitled "Prometheus Unbound" appeared in the publication, the first letters of lines of which, when put together, would read: "Marcos... Hitler... Tuta... Dictador..." From MAC to PCPM The MAC was abolished on Nov. 9, 1974 through Presidential Decree No. 576. Polotan herself gave a hint as to why. She claimed that since the body had been formed, Primitivo Mijares "lost no time putting to use a natural bent for abuse... So casually did MAC handle its job that when dissolved, it took a long time to surrender its records, some of which were at the National Press Club, the rest in the garage of a MAC employee." Mijares himself, after failing to account for NPC funds, ran away to the US, joined Manglapus' Movement for a Free Philippines, testified against the Marcos regime before the US Senate Foreign Relations Sub-Committee, and wrote scandalous expos of the martial-law administration entitled The Conjugal Dictatorship of Ferdimelda Marcos. Shortly afterwards, he disappeared from the scene and has never been heard of since. The abolition of the MAC and, along with it, the Bureau of Standards for Mass Media, was justified by "(1) the improved capability of the mass media to regulate and discipline their ranks; and (2) the favorable peace and order situation of the country."

PD 576 then also divided mass media into two groups: print and broadcast, both groups given authority to organize or determine the composition of a body or council which will "adopt policies, formulate guidelines, fix standards, and promulgate rules and regulations for the operation and discipline of all mass media under its supervision, and to administer and enforce the same." The category of print media applied to "all newspapers, periodicals, magazines, journals, and publications and all advertising therein, and billboards, neon signs, and the like." The Philippine Council for Print Media (PCPM) had Hans Menzi of Bulletin Today as chairman; Raul Locsin of Business Day as vice-chairman; Kerima Polotan-Tuvera of Focus Philippines, Juan Perez of Philippines Daily Express, and Rosario Olivares of Times Journal as members. All were at the same time officers of the Publishers Association of the Philippines, Inc. (PAPI), the leading and most organized group among four professional associations (the three others were the Print Media Organization-PRIMO; the Outdoor Advertising Association of the PhilippinesOAAP; and the Philippine Board of Advertising-PBA) which "supposedly facilitate the enforcement of the Council's rules and regulations." The PCPM had the power to impose sanctions, including cancellation of registration certificates, suspension or written admonition in the case of media; and withdrawal of recognition, suspension of recognition or warning, in the case of advertising agencies. It issued guidelines for the operations of print media practitioners, including the following:

Print media, in purveying information of public interest and general concern, play a vital role in the realization of the countrys goals and development plans. Freedom with responsibility underlines this vital task. The need for constructive endeavor, enhancement of professional conduct, and self-regulation should go hand in hand with print medias allegiance to truth. The publisher must assume final and full responsibility for everything printed in his publication. He must be guided by the knowledge that press freedom is a public trust and should not be used to serve personal, anti-social, and divisive interests. The attitude should be one of moderation and sobriety, rather than sensationalism. Sensationalism detracts from the accepted standards for decency, invariably resulting in the unwarranted invasion of an individual's privacy. Advertising in print media must be truthful and hew closely to good taste. It is a partner in media's struggle to promote the country's goals.

The boundaries of press freedom, according to PCPM, consist of the laws of libel and defamation; sub judice litigation; obscenity and bad taste; invasion of privacy; and national security. Did the PCPM prove faithful to its own guidelines, and was its composition favorable to the effective discharge of its own responsibilities? According to its critics, the interlocking structure of the PCPM and the PAPI resulted in the undemocratic exclusion of practicing newsmen and newspaper employees. "Ironically, these personnel are supposed to be the people to be disciplined to practice self-regulation since they are the ones working on the actual production of the paper."

Other questions posed include: How can it credibly supervise the other three associations when only the publishers of the papers are represented in the Board? How can it protect the rights and welfare of the workers of the print media when the Council is manned by the owners of these media (management)? And furthermore, how can the evaluation of complaints by PAPI be reversed by the PCPM authorities when the same people manage the two bodies? Columnist Teodoro F. Valencia was more scathing in his criticisms. He said the PCPM was used by the lords of print media in the creation of "an insipid press but a very prosperous one." As he explained, "advertisements and commercial blurbs still dominate the pages of newspapers in spite of admonitions to conserve energy... In place of the society page, what do we find today? Imported sex articles in all shades of pornography in print, and endless nonsense about coming movie productions, gossip about movie stars and starlets, and worse, undisguised image-building stories about motion picture characters." Worse, Valencia accused the PCPM of persecuting the small fry in order to monopolize the take: The most glaring example of the monopolistic attitude of the lords of print media was the suppression of Ginoo, a monthly for men that featured semi-nudes and provocative poses of women in varying styles of undress. One had expected that with the suppression of Ginoo, the press would rule out cheesecake. The contrary was what happened. The front pages of the major newspaper run by the principal officers of the Print Media Council blossomed with the very pictures they censored in Ginoo. What the small fry could not do was all right by the bosses of the print media. The Media Under Duress While the martial-law administration seemingly went through the motions of transferring its power to "self-governing" bodies of the media at the end of 1974, the reality of subsequent months and years was much more harsh. Presidential Decree No.90 (on rumor-mongering) placed the media under "psychological duress" because of the following provision: "Any person who shall offer, publish, distribute, circulate and spread rumors, false news, information and gossip, or cause the publication, distribution, circulation or spreading of the same, which cause or tend to cause panic, divisive effects upon the people, discredit of or distrust for the duly constituted authorities, undermine the stability of government and the objectives of the New Society, endanger the public order, or cause damage to the interest or credit of the State shall, upon conviction, be punished by prision correccional." Cases closing down publications still occurred. Among these were Signs of the Times, weekly news bulletin of the Association of Major Religious Superiors, ordered closed on Dec. 5, 1974 on charges of inciting to sedition and operating without a duly-registered license; Ang Bandilyo, newsletter of the prelature of Bukidnon, ordered closed in November, 1976 for publishing articles on the 1976 referendum; The Communicator, a monthly edited by Fr. James B. Reuter, ordered closed on Dec. 5, 1976 for running items against the martial law administration. In connection with these closures, Fr. Eduardo Gerlock of Maryknoll and Fr. Albert Booms of PIME were deported.

Other foreigners, too, suffered various forms of harassment from government. Arnold Zeitlin, Associated Press bureau chief, was denied reentry to the Philippines on Jan. 5, 1975 because of his reports on the Muslim rebellion in the South and the regime's lavish spending for the 1974 World Bank Conference delegates in Manila. Bernard Wideman, correspondent of the Far Eastern Economic Review, Washington Post, and ABC News, was the subject of hearings by the Commission on Immigration and Deportation. Accused of libel, fabrication and association with subversives, Wideman was not given an extension of his visa until the charges against him were finally dropped. On June 12, 1977, three foreign correspondents Marilyn Odchimar of the Kyodo News Agency, Nelly Sindayen of Yomiuri Shimbun, and Rey Palarca of United Press International, were arrested while they were covering an anti-government demonstration. Fox Butterfield of the New York Times "was seized by government guards and pushed down the stairs" when he "unexpectedly walked into a vote-tampering session by members of the Commission on Elections" while covering the April, 1978 elections for the Interim Batasang Pambansa. Sometimes, too, government authorities prevented the circulation of foreign magazines (e.g. Time, Newsweek, Life, Cosmopolitan, and Far Eastern Economic Review) containing highly critical articles by buying all the available copies in the newsstands or by banning them outright. A typical example is the 1978 issue of Life Magazine which was subjected to this because it revealed the lavishness of the Marcoses' 25th wedding anniversary. Filipino journalists were not spared the worse fate of detention. Jo-Ann Maglipon was imprisoned for one year (1974) "on charges of undefined subversion." Saturnino Ocampo, former business editor of the Manila Times and vice-president of the National Press Club, was arrested on Jan. 14, 1976 and has been detained ever since. Ocampo went underground upon the declaration of martial law, was arrested in connection with the Karagatan-Andrea rebellion case, was held in isolation in military camps and "safehouses" for five months before being transferred to Camp Crame. Editors of the Philippine Collegian (student newspaper of the University of the Philippines), including Abraham Sarmiento, Alex Magno, and Malou Mangahas, were incarcerated because of the anti-government articles they published. Monica Feria, Daily Express reporter, was picked up in October, 1979 on "suspicion of subversion." White Paper on a Sick Press Martial law has not served as a cleansing mechanism for the press. The corrupting influences were not expurgated early on, and no amount of crusading could uproot the endemic causes of journalistic prostitution. The Philippine Council for Print Media Special Committee on Ethics, spearheaded by Kerima Polotan-Tuvera, should nevertheless be cited for its attempts to deal with the problem and expose the malignant disease gripping the profession. In the sensational White Paper simultaneously published by the Bulletin Today, Evening Post, and Business Day on October 6, 1977, the PCPM ventilated its concern "principally with the prostitution of the profession, specifically the journalist who surrenders to the blandishments offered by the public in return for his 'friendship.'" The "blandishments" include free passes, wining and dining, pocket money given during press conferences, regular "envelopes," monthly

retainers, stocks and bonds, dollars, airplane tickets, expensive gifts (including cars), moneymaking projects (such as the preparation of anniversary brochures or souvenir programs in exchange for handsome allowances and per diems), jobs for relatives, unlimited access to airports, seaports, and Customs (thus facilitating the lucrative entry of highly dutiable items), etc. The bolder newsmen engage in outright extortion (forcing government officials or businessmen to contribute to their money-making ventures), blackmail (changing or toning down a highly critical story in exchange for a fee from the person or agency concerned), and direct sale of published material (exacting payments for the publication of insignificant press releases or favorable stories upon presentation of the appropriate clippings to the favored individual or institution). The sources of largesse are multiple: image-oriented officials occupying various levels of the bureaucracy, government agencies striving to project their best foot forward, corporations, advertising firms, businessmen who want to flaunt their power and/or philanthropy, movie stars and film companies trying to ensure their popularity, designers and fashion houses, hotels and airlines, and "special people" whose ambition is to be able to make it to the resurrected society pages. The White Paper scored not only erring newsmen but also, indirectly, the publishers whose "obligations" were likewise pointed out in the following manner: Publishers are obligated to see that corruption is minimized, if not cut out entirely, by paying their men a decent wage, so that the staff man will not have to stretch his ethics or prostitute his calling to survive. When he earns enough, the temptation of a bribe will not be hard to resist. However, it does not follow that a high wage guarantees a man's honesty. You could pay a man thousands of pesos and he would still be open to convenient arrangements because of his particular moral chemistry. Therefore, a publisher should not hire lightly, and should regularly monitor an employee's performance. The publisher is obligated to take firm and drastic steps when he is morally convinced of a newspaperman's culpability. Some of the publishers did take "firm and drastic steps" by dismissing newspapermen found guilty of extortion, blackmail, or bribery. However, in the words of the former PCPM Executive Director himself: "The working press itself is not too keen about cleaning its ranks and it would probably take a lifetime of patient waiting before full cooperation on its part could be solicited, as the editors and reports are very touchy on this point." Martial Law 'Lifted' On Jan. 17, 1981, President Marcos issued PD 2045 "lifting" martial law. On the 23rd, the print and broadcast media councils were abolished, and the right to publish without having to obtain prior license was restored. The supposed liberalization prompted government spokesmen and some of the more privileged columnists to blame the press for not coming out "punching" soon after. As one of them said, "Eight years of taking it easy has dulled the pens of many newsmen." The point, however, was that the climate of fear was still very much in evidence then because of the continued operation of repressive decrees and the institution of new and erstwhile "secret" decrees. For example, Presidential Decree No. 1737, otherwise known as the Public Order Act, empowered the president to detain "persons or entities with a view to preventing them from

acting in a manner prejudicial to the national security or maintenance of a public order" and to close "subversive publications and other media for mass communication." The National Security Code, another draconian measure, included provisions against those "uttering, publishing, distributing, circulating and spreading rumors, false news and information and gossip, or causing the publication, distribution, circulation or reading of the same which cause or tend to cause panic, divisive effects among the people, discredit of or distrust for the duly constituted authorities, undermine the stability of the government and the objectives of the new Society, endanger the public order, or discredit, or cause damage to the interest of the state." It was only in July, 1983 when President Marcos issued PD Nos. 1875 and 1876, repealing the Public Order Act and the National Security Code, respectively. However, there remain Presidential Decrees 1834 and 1835, escalating the penalties for rebellion, sedition and other crimes related to national security. These decrees were originally dated January 16, 1981 (a day before the supposed lifting of martial law), were kept frozen and "secret" for almost a year and a half, and were finally rendered operational in July, 1983 with their publication in the Official Gazette. Section 6 of PD No. 1834 reads: The penalty of reclusion perpetua to death shall be imposed upon any person who, without taking any direct part in the crime of sedition, should incite others to the accomplishment of any of the acts which constitute sedition, by means of speeches, proclamation, writings, emblems, cartoons, banners, or other representations tending to the same end, or upon any person or persons who shall utter seditious words or speeches, write, publish, or circulate scurrilous libels against the Government of the Philippines, or any of the dulyconstituted authorities thereof, or which tend to disturb or obstruct any lawful officer in executing the functions of his office, or which tend to instigate others to cabal and meet together for unlawful purposes, or which suggest or incite rebellious conspiracies or riots, or which lead or tend to stir up the people against the lawful authorities or to disturb the peace of the community, the safety and order of the Government, or who shall knowingly conceal such evil practices. Section 7 of the same decree declares: The penalty of reclusion perpetua to death shall be imposed upon any person who, having control and management of printing, broadcast or television facilities, or any form of mass communication, shall use or allow the use of such facilities for the purpose of mounting sustained propaganda assaults against Government or any of its duly constituted authorities which tend to destabilize the Government or undermine or destroy the faith and loyalty of the citizenry thereto, or who shall use or allow the use such facilities for any plot or conspiracy to accomplish any of the acts which constitute rebellion or insurrection or sedition. Presidential Decrees No. 1834 and No. 1835 are referred to in PD No. 1877 issued in July 1983, empowering the President to issue a Preventive Detention Action (PDA)-the latest nomenclature for what used to be known as a Presidential Commitment Order (PCO) and earlier, as an Arrest, Search and Seizure Order (ASSO), but by some estimates much worse. The PDA "shall constitute authority to arrest persons covered and to preventively detain them for a period not to exceed one year and to sequester all equipment used in the commission of the crime(s)" [against the security of the state.] Detention may be extended by the President if there is evidence of the

person concerned continuing to engage in acts for which he was detained." The person to be detained is not given any opportunity to present his side, "the evidence against him shall be evaluated not before his arrest, but only afterwards," and he is denied bail. The Rise of the 'Mosquito Press' The ominous pattern of reprisal against the press soon generated its own opposite. Starting with the Magsanoc case in mid-1981, resistance has been building up, gaining momentum after the We Forum closure and reaching its highest peak in the wake of the Aquino assassination. Actually, on August 20, 1983 (the day before the former senator was murdered on the tarmac), the Women Writers in Media Now (WOMEN) initiated a consultation on press freedom at the Heritage Center in Quezon City with Joe Burgos [died Nov. 16, 2003 G.M.), Tony Nieva, Justice Cecilia Muoz Palma, and the four banned "Bulletin girls" as speakers. On the agenda were the PDA, the "secret" decrees, recent cases of harassment in media, and what to do about all these. During the multi-sectoral forum, the idea of boycotting the establishment media was floated as a possible course of action. The nascent boycott movement found an ideal opportunity as it rode the crest of the waves of protest which followed the Aquino assassination. The "Fact Sheet on the Philippine Press" distributed during the August 20 consultation was later integrated into the "Statement of Media Repression" issued by the Press Freedom Committee of the Justice for Aquino, Justice for All Movement. The main point of the new statement was that "coverage by the local media of the assassination and its aftermath stressed the suppression of truth and the stranglehold of the Marcos government over the already timid press." It further explained: On orders from Malacaang, editors of the national dailies mercilessly scissored news reports and articles. Photographs and editorial cartoons which showed the real extent of the tragedy and the publics reaction to it never saw print. Needless to say, critical pronouncements made by the Aquino family, Cardinal Sin and members of the political opposition were glossed over, if not ignored. Though two million Filipinos marched in the Aquino funeral and millions more expressed their sympathy throughout the country, media coverage was extremely inadequate. To the media, it was as if the vast numbers of Filipinos crying out for freedom and justice did not exist. Television stations which were once quick to air live broadcast of a bank holdup virtually shunned the airlines on a matter of national significance. The lines of radio stations covering the event were jammed. A two-page article on Aquino in the Panorama magazine (Sept. 4 issue) was pulled out even after 35,000 copies had already been printed. Government censors even went to the extent of ordering editors not to use words like "assassination" and "sympathizers" in their stories but to substitute more neutral terms like "killing" or "mourners." The statement ended by calling for a boycott of the "governmentcontrolled press" (Ban the Bulletin! Suppress the Express! Junk the Journal!). And for the support of "all publications that did a good job of the Aquino coverage" (Buy Mr. & Ms. WHO, Business Day, Malaya, Philippine Times!).

The period immediately following the Aquino assassination was characterized by a massive demand for the "mosquito press," as Information Minister Cendaa preferred to call the "alternative media" which sprouted and enjoyed extra-brisk sales. The special supplements of Mr & Ms featuring Aquino-related stories broke commercial records, while the irreverent tabloids with sensational headlines sold like hot cakes on the streets. One daring tabloid incurred official ire: the Philippine Times was closed down and its publishereditor, Rommel Corro, was held by authorities for publishing a story implicating high government and military officials in the Aquino assassination. Corro was served a PDA and was charged under PD 1834; in addition, he is the target of a P1 million libel suit filed by Political Affairs Minister Leonardo Perez for the same offending story. Aside from the "mosquito press," the foreign magazines enjoyed the peak of public patronage in the weeks following the assassination. Issues of Newsweek, Time, Asiaweek, and other international periodicals with lengthy articles on the August 21 event and its aftermath became instant collectors' copies. The local "establishment media" suffered in comparison, as Filipinos who happened to be abroad or who otherwise had access to foreign sources of news and commentaries publicly declared that they knew more about what was happening in the country by reading what had been published outside of it. As the "information hunger" escalated, the boycott movement gained momentum and created a noticeable drop in the circulation of the big newspapers. Even more ominous, big businessmen, in a forum sponsored by the highly-critical Makati Business Club, threatened to withdraw ads if a more balanced coverage was not instituted. The mounting pressures bore a little fruit as the Bulletin and Express, for example, allowed some "sensitive" materials to see print. Otherwise, their market could be cornered by alternative media which sprouted and rapidly gained in strength, especially during the weeks following the Aquino assassination. Some of these newspapers Malaya, Filipino Times, Kabayan, and The Guardian had existed before Aug. 21, 1983. The others Philippine Signs, Veritas, La Solidaridad Filipinas, the Mr & Ms supplement, and Peryodiko Libre emerged after. Of the alternative press, Malaya seemed to have achieved the most mileage, capturing the No. 2 slot in terms of circulation in between Bulletin (290,000) and Daily Express (105,000). Formerly a sister publication of the banned We Forum, it resumed printing in January 1983 and increased its frequency, circulation, and page size after the Aug. 21 assassination. In February 1984, it announced that it would soon come out as a five-times-a-week broadsheet, "giving Manila its first opposition daily in 12 years. Papers identified with the Church have been hitting the streets on a weekly basis since they first saw print in late 1983. The more stable of these is Veritas, capitalized at P1.5 million and a brainchild of the Bishops-Businessmen's Conference, with the strong backing of the Archdiocese of Manila. Philippine Signs, which has a smaller staff and circulation, is identified with church-related agencies having a more progressive orientation. The Mr & Ms supplement, like most of the alternative media, cashed in on the upsurge of popular discontent. It claimed a circulation of half a million at the height of the "yellow confetti" fever, but the figure later stabilized to a more modest level.

Despite the threat posed by the alternative press, the screws on the "establishment press" have not been loosened enough. This may be gleaned from the reaction to a letter addressed to publishers, signed by 137 editors, reporters, artists, photographers and correspondents attached to the Philippines Daily Express, The Bulletin Publishing Corporation, and the Philippine Journalists, Inc. The letter called for a dialogue "so we can jointly review the media situation and take steps to restore the credibility and respectability of our newspapers before it is too late." The agenda would have included the following problems: "(1) Exposure of working newspapermen to undue risks; (2) Decline of readership; (3) Tarnished image of newspapermen in the profession." It would have pinpointed the following causes: "(1) Government management of news; (2) Imbalance in news reporting; (3) Climate of fear created by the filing of charges, 'invitations,' and other forms of harassment of journalists; (4) Incensed public; (5) Conflict between pro-government editorial policies and accepted journalistic standards." The following solutions and proposals would have also been presented: "(1) Stop the practice of Malacaang calling up the editorial desk and meddling with news management; (2) Give our editors full discretion in news management; (3) Present all sides to a news item, including the opposition's views; (4) Stop all forms of harassment against newspapermen; (5) Stop using newspapers as propaganda media of government." The proposed dialogue, however, came to naught. In their "Letter to Fellow Journalists, the 137 signatories explained what happened. At the Times Journal, the editors met with staffers three weeks ago as the management had gotten wind of the letter even before it was given. The meeting merely ended with the inescapable conclusion that "these are peculiar times and we are under a peculiar publisher." At the Daily Express, the publisher did meet with the staffers. He assured them that the newspaper is not co-terminus with any party. However, he said Malacaang instructions have been issued since 1972. He asked what the newspaper can do with Malacaang instructions, and remarked that it cannot antagonize Malacaang. On the other hand, at the Bulletin Today, the publisher merely sent word that he is ready for the dialogue if the other publishers are also ready. Publishers Impose Constraints It is obvious from the above accounts that the constraints posed by de facto martial law are not the only ones which exist. Given the fact that journalism is big business it takes $10 million to set up a national newspaper the publishers and advertisers with money to burn have the largest say. Like their predecessors, todays publishers usually determine the general makeup of the publication and even the editorial policy to achieve their ends: profit and/or political influence. They can choose to serve Class A and B readers, that is, those who can afford to subscribe on a regular basis, with "quality" newspapers; and/or they can put out cheap tabloids with potent-even if morally pernicious-mass appeal to ensure high rates of return through large circulation figures.

1982, for example, witnessed a "tabloid war" among the big three, with People's Journal and People's Tonight of Philippine Journalists, Inc. striving to maintain a comfortable lead over its closest competitors, Tempo and Balita of the Menzi group. Evening Express and Pilipino Express of the third party, threatened by a dwindling circulation, then opted to merge into the new Maynila. The combined print-out of all these tabloids was a hefty 800,000, sold in the streets even to "jeepney drivers and housewives who normally don't read" by what one critic called "the predictable lurid sex, bloody crimes-filthy gossip-breezy sports formula." Publishers, too, have their own sacred cows to praise and protect; if they themselves are not related to or allied with the political bigwigs, they usually need to be in the good graces of the rulers in order to survive. And normally, they too have their own business interests to look after. Based on Reuben Canoy's The Counterfeit Revolution (1980), one such publisher is Roberto S. Benedicto. Quoting from a confidential corporate study, Canoy claimed that Benedicto, owner of Daily Express, also owned the Kanlaon Broadcasting System (KBS) and the ABS-CBN, thus having control over possibly the largest multi-media network in the Philippines. At that time, he was also director of the Marinduque Mining and Industrial Corporation (mining), and Planters Products (agribusiness), as well as chairman of the Republic Bank (banking), Nivico Philippines (TV manufacturing), and Celebrity Sports Plaza (sports club). He owned sugar lands and several sugar mills; he headed the National Sugar Trading Corporation, a powerful government firm which was the sole marketing agency for sugar. He was also into shipping, with his Northern Lines carrying sugar to Japan. His connections with Marcos were impeccable. The same quoted corporate study said: Roberto S. Benedicto is one of the closest personal friends of the President, being a classmate and fraternity brother of Marcos at the University of the Philippines College of Law. He is an original fundraiser and trusted crony from the days when the President was fighting or outmaneuvering political giants. Benjamin "Kokoy" Romualdez, brother of the First Lady, Governor of Leyte, former ambassador to Peking, and now ambassador to Washington, is the principal owner of Times Journal. The quoted study also claimed that he either owned or controlled Meralco, PCI Bank, Philippine Engineering Co. and other business interests "under names of other people." Together with brothers Eduardo and Alfredo "Bejo" Romualdez and the family of brother-in-law Rodolfo Martel, Kokoy is identified with the Romualdez Group which, in 1980, was into poultry products (Lamarco Agri-Business Corp.); steel (Armco-Marsteel Alloy Corp. and Marsteel Consolidated, Inc.); jai alai (Philippine Jai Alai & Amusement Corp.); casino gambling (Manila Bay Enterprises); hotels (Century Park Sheraton); and retailing (Harrison Plaza). Menzi's diverse economic interests have already been documented. He used to be a senior military aide to the President, his closeness to the center of power being signified by the fact that three months after the declaration of martial law, the Bulletin "was given permit to published (sic) again without having to secure a document signed by the President that it was not

subversive." Encouragement to reopen was said to come from Marcos himself "in a conversation in Malacaang one Saturday afternoon." Aside from the big three, there is a fourth power whose economic holdings are not well known but whose connections with the Marcoses are virtually cemented. Accordingly, "Presidential Assistant Juan Tuvera and his wife, Kerima Polotan, are behind the Evening Post and lately, the Metro Manila Times." The "establishment press" therefore can only be expected to at least not stray away, and at most hew closely to the wishes of Malacaang. The "wishes" are communicated in many ways; through almighty press releases which, as much as possible, should be given front-page treatment; through phone calls and other ways of requesting that embarrassing or politically sensitive material are not printed, or at least downplayed (e.g. the collapse of the hurriedly done floor of the Film Center building which resulted in the death of not a few workers; the mysterious kidnaping of future son-in-law Tommy Manotoc; cases of food poisoning during the wedding of the century of First Daughter Irene; damaging speeches and successful mass actions of opposition elements regarded as threats; reports of military abuses; stories featuring worsening poverty, child prostitution, upsurge of crime and other sordid problems in the "City of Man," etc.); through direct complaints to the publishers and/or editors when "odorous" pieces manage to pass the already tight screening, and the resultant censure of erring deskmen or reporters; and through repeated emphasis, in many a public forum, on what is known as "development communication," or the playing up of government programs ostensibly designed to spur the country on to modernization and uplift the conditions of the people. How a publisher actually serves as the eagle eye is shown in the following account about the Times Journal: Romualdez used to personally supervise the company activities, give orders and directives to the editor and reporters on articles he wanted published, but never stepped into the company premises after the union was organized. But Romualdez, a publisher, still sets new policies which are to be followed by the staffers despite his absence. In an interview, 15 reporters said that the policies imposed by the publisher affect their news stories. Two of five section editors admitted that many of their ideas are stultified when these contradict the publisher's policies. What about the role of the Times Journal editor? Jose Luna Castro defines it this way: The editor runs the paper. This implies a lot of things in terms of duties and responsibilities. He doesn't really make policies, though; I think it is the board or its creature, the publisher, that sets policies. He contributes to the formulation of policies and may even be called upon to articulate them. Publishers vs. Press Workers Obviously, because they hold the money bag, the publishers have the power to hire or fire their employees, promote or demote editors, ground or "freeze" their reporters, bust or harass unions. In fact, there have been many recent victims of publishers' prerogatives, specially in the Bulletin

and the Times Journal. These victims are contemporary reminders of a deep seated problem which has plagued the press for decades. Tony Nieva, head of the Bulletin Employees Union, gave the following testimony during the NPC General Assembly in 1981: Through the years, we have had newsmen from the Bulletin resign for one reason or another. ... Butch Pajarillo resigned because he was sacked by the Bulletin on the complaint of Bobby Ongpin... [who] complained direct to Menzi and Menzi ordered him grounded. Then there was another guy, Momoy Fuentebella, a photographer who took his vacation (all of these occurred after signing of the Collective Bargaining Agreement), I think, a week ahead of schedule and Menzi suspended him, just like that, and the guy resigned. We have the case of Ben Lara, who we all know was drummed out of the profession by the PCPM at the behest of Gen. Menzi himself. Before that, we had Levi Marcelo and Linda Bolido. And I remember there was a correspondent we had, Elenita Gallardo, who wrote an expos on some logging racket in Cagayan and, unfortunately, she offended certain people higher up and then these people complained to Malacaang and then she was sacked. She was fired, actually. And then, the latest case of the president of the Bulletin Correspondents Club who was elected President of the Federation of Provincial Press Clubs, who was actually grounded. His byline can't appear because he engaged in some maneuvers in PAPI, where the small publishers wanted to grab the leadership of the PAPI from the big publishers, and after that his byline could not appear in the paper. Nieva, on another occasion, revealed how he himself suffered harassment on account of his union leadership. He was assigned to the police beat, which he had covered ages ago for seven years. It was to him "the biggest insult," and if he were onion-skinned, he would have resigned. This was really the idea, but he stuck it out and never covered the beat. The Bulletin employees spearheaded by Nieva staged a one-day work stoppage in February 1983, charging management with "unfair labor practice; wanton disregard of the collective bargaining agreement; intimidation and continuing harassment of union officers?" Particularly, the strikers were protesting the ouster of Nieva and the forced resignation of Recah Trinidad, editor of Bulletin sister publication Tempo, for featuring "political stories." Theirs was the first strike in the newspaper industry since martial law was declared. Not content with this, Nieva gathered members of existing workers organizations in five major publications on March 25, 1983 to form the Brotherhood of Unions in Media in the Philippines. Two days after, the Brotherhood issued a Declaration of Principles expressing adherence to the following: free trade unionism in the interest of workers; unity between writers/journalists and media workers; freedom of the press and recognition of the right to information; internationalism; collective action; and commitment to national independence and the building of a humane and just society. The declaration was signed by Nieva for the Bulletin Employees Union; Angel Calso, Liwayway Employees Union; Antonio Modena, Philippine Journalists Employees Union; Guillermo Franco, Daily Express Employees Union; and Ruben Pascual, Business Day Reporters Guild.

With the arrest of Nieva on April 13 (the result of an alleged meeting of the publishers in Malacaang on April 6) the Brotherhood lost its moving spirit. In the case of the Philippine Journalists Employees Union (PJEU), the battle with management has been bitter and up to now, there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel. The union was formed in February 1982 and since then, its 400 members have suffered all sorts of harassment and lately, retrenchment. They were subjected to "routine reshuffle" or transferred to "graveyard shifts" to prevent them from coordinating their activities. Management set up a company union, the Labor Management Council, but was thwarted when the Supreme Court, on May 5, issued a restraining order stopping the former's union-busting activities. Employees benefits already approved were suddenly withdrawn. In June, 1982, the PJEU was forced to stage a picket to press for union recognition which up to then had been denied to them. Armed policemen, "who get free meals and allowances from management everytime the workers picket," made their presence felt, but the concerted action remained peaceful. The PJEU's demands belied the impression that the Times Journal and its sister publications constituted a "media workers' paradise" because of the much-vaunted high salaries they allegedly granted: In truth, the union claims, PJI workers do not enjoy such basic benefits as retirement pay, separation pay, medical and dental benefits, insurance, hospitalization, and others. The PJEU further claims that management pays high salaries only to its editors, managers, and executive officers who receive salaries between P12,000 and P25,000. These salaries would even appear more stratospheric when viewed from the level of a simple machine operator's pay of about P1400 a month or a reporter's average pay of P2000 a month, less than what reporters receive at the Bulletin Today and the Daily Express. The uphill struggle of the PJEU was climaxed by a stinging reversal at the end of 1983 when the Journal officially dismissed 385 workers as part of general retrenchment; union leaders, however, claimed this was plain union-busting. They filed a strike notice at the Ministry of Labor, but were not allowed to pursue their planned action. Elevating their case to the Supreme Court, the PJEU members are seeking a restraining order on their retrenchment and the holding of a certification election necessary for union recognition. Along with the PJEU, the Philippine Daily Express Employees Union, numbering 500, is facing a dim future as management has also announced retrenchment plans. The Larger Issues It is clear from the above accounts that the working press has to labor under the noses of many forces of various interests and persuasions. Its sphere of operations is full of dangerous potholes and open manholes, severely limiting the areas where they can comfortably tread. What is worse, their financial remunerations are meager; as workers in the newspaper industry, they must make do with what the publishers see fit to give them, specially, if their unions are not strong enough to demand what is due them. They are therefore under extreme pressure to acquire the wherewithal to survive, and perhaps to indulge an expensive taste or two as expected of them in

a consumerist society. The temptations leading to corruption in journalism are endemic and abundant. One source of temptation is the advertising industry, some elements of which have been recorded to cause the publication of press releases in newspapers in exchange for a fee (per column inch) from their clients. Advertisers can also, and quite effectively, serve as a source of constraints. Tony Nieva, for example, revealed that his column entitled "The Passing Scene" was removed from the Bulletin after he had written a series of damaging articles against the multinationals, including the "lead-on-milk controversy." Other newsmen reported their inability to feature consumerist concerns in the major newspapers, because of possible negative reactions from affected advertisers. The multinationals are the worst to tangle with, since their clout as the largest advertisers in media cannot be denied. In fact, even the advertising industry has seen the alarming expansion of transnational agencies which are preferred by foreign and even local business clientele to handle their accounts. The advertisers have always been an important force to reckon with, because they can make or break newspapers merely by supplying or withdrawing financial support. The strength of their influence can be measured by the fact that 70 to 80 percent of newspaper income comes from advertising. This is rendered all the more disturbing by the fact that the external forces dominant in advertising also dominate the whole of the national economy. Imperialism and the NIIO (New International Information Order) The transnational, with tentacles all over the global market economy, virtually flood global media, with grievous results not only on the Philippines but also on the whole of the Third World. Foreign news dispatches from the Big Four Associated Press (AP) and United Press International (UPI) based in the United States, Reuters of Britain, and Agence France Presse (AFP) regularly appear in the local dailies. Aside from the multinational wire agencies, foreign weeklies and even newspapers find a market inside the country and thereby exercise considerable influence, too. The Marcos government has had a love-hate relationship with what it calls the "Western press," occasionally taking umbrage when unfavorable publicity about the regime is beamed worldwide. On the other hand, it also tries to court foreign media, as best exemplified by the fact that Marcos himself took pains to address publishers and newspapermen abroad (the annual convention of the American Newspaper Publishers Association in Honolulu in April, 1980, for example), and allows himself to be questioned and interviewed by foreign media in person and even via satellite. Officially, the Philippines seems to support the call for a New International Information Order (NIIO) by the Third World nations. As early as 1976, then Information Minister Francisco Tatad, in a statement read during the International Symposium on Ways to Develop Information Between Non-Aligned Countries in Tunis, declared: In the Philippines, the Constitution specifically provides that only Filipinos, and absolutely no foreigners, may own any part of mass media. This is an important safeguard, but so far it has had little effect on the continued onslaught of foreign publications and the giant information multinationals, one of which alone is said to move close to five thousand million words a day...

That the poor countries should continue to watch events unfold anywhere in the world through the eyes of the multinationals and that the latter should continue to interpret our lives, not for themselves alone but also for us, invite joint multilateral action. In August 1980, President Marcos himself met with Asian editors attending a conference in Manila to discuss the Macbride Report on the NIIO. He then "proposed the establishment of a linkage of all information media in developing countries to provide exchange of information, prevent news distortion, and lessen dependence on the Western press." A concrete indication of support is the participation of the government-sponsored Philippines News Agency (PNA) in an ASEAN-wide news exchange as well as in the Asia-Pacific News Network (ANN). Although far from superseding the transnational wire agencies as sources of usable news, these efforts at collective self-reliance seem to be steps in the right direction. Also noteworthy are Information Minister Gregorio Cendaa's occasional tirades against "Western media imperialism" and an article by Jose T. Tumbokon, Minister of State for Information, which said in part: There are about 120 agencies in the world, but the four Western giants cited dominate the whole show. From the teletype machines of this quartette emanate 34 million words per day. Nine out of ten of the entire foreign news output of the worlds media are their handiwork. According to Vicente Maliwanag, a Filipino journalist long familiar with the international scene: About 90 percent of the present flow of words and radiophotos is handled by the so-called Big Four. As much as 95 percent of the information gathered in, and received by, Third World nations is handled by the four transnational news organizations. A study by UNESCO estimated that the input of Third World news in the total global circulation was less than 20 percent, probably closer to 15 percent. Over 90 percent of world news published and broadcast by the press and radio in Asia (except China and Japan), Africa, and Latin America is distributed from New York, Paris, and London. The multilateral action envisioned by the Third World was crystallized in various meetings of the UNESCO, the non-aligned movement, and the Group of 77. The New International Information Order (NIIO) became the battlecry, and decolonization of mass media, the main aim. The principles embodied in the NIIO include: 1. Respect for the self-determination and sovereignty of states and noninterference in their internal affairs. 2. The right of the peoples and individuals to access to and participation in truthful and objective information. 3. The right of each nation to develop an autonomous information infrastructure and to protect its own sovereignty and cultural identity, particularly by means of regulating the activities of the large transnational corporations. 4. The right of each nation to use its own mass media to make known to the world its own interests, aspirations, and values. 5. The right of each nation to participate in the international flow of information under conditions of equality, justice, and mutual benefit.

6. The responsibility of the administrators of the information process with respect to its truthfulness and objectivity and to the social ends towards which this information is oriented. Its proponents see the NIIO as an instrument which "should contribute to the establishment of the New International Economic Order, to the struggle against imperialism, colonialism, neocolonialism, racism, Zionism and apartheid, all forms of foreign aggression, domination and interference and should promote human rights within the framework of a type of social development that will help to combat hunger, disease, illiteracy and unemployment and, as the former imply, should facilitate the strengthening of peace, international understanding, dtente and disarmament, without which there can be no possibility of development."
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