A landmark press freedom case for Thailand

Roby Alampay, Bangkok

A high-profile defamation trial began July 19 in Thailand, and free speech advocates from the around the world are lining up for seats as near to the front as possible: They'll take the witness stand, if that's OK. They've been stepping up and volunteering to testify ever since a trial date was announced earlier this year. Now more than 30 names of free speech experts from every corner of the world -- from Paris, New York, London, Hong Kong, Australia, Manila, and Colombo, among others -- have in fact been submitted as potential witnesses to the trial of media activist Supinya Klangnarong and the Thai Post daily.

They are calling it, potentially, Thailand's New York Times vs. Sullivan. Thailand observers have been billing the protagonists as David and Goliath. One online commentator says it's more like "Bambi vs. Godzilla".

The fragile-looking Supinya, 32, of course, is the sweet, soft-spoken, and initially reluctant but ultimately courageous young soldier pushed to the front of the battle. As for the giant: In this case, it does not even necessarily refer to Shin Corp. (Although entities don't come any bigger than Shin in Thailand.) The real shadow that looms is that of Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra. His family owns Shin, Thailand's biggest media and telecommunications conglomerate with industry-leading investments in satellite communications, mobile telephony, the Internet, and Thailand's only licensed private television network.

Two years ago, Supinya, speaking with the Thai Post, noted a spike in Shin's profits coinciding with Thaksin's rise to power in 2001. Shin Corp. sued for defamation, saying the imputation of conflict-of-interest damaged its image and standing in the Thai community. Supinya now faces the prospect of imprisonment and being ordered to pay Shin Corp. US$10 million in damages. (That's 2,000 years worth of her salary as a media advocate, Supinya notes.)

Shin Corp. is nothing if not a projection of the Thaksin persona itself. It is ambitious, powerful, and, as the leader in its world, expects to be followed. It is intolerant of dissent. In 2002, ITV, the "independent" television network that Shin Corp. owns, fired 21 of its reporters after they refused to follow editorial directives that, in their view, would have given Thaksin's Thai Rak Thai party an unfair advantage in the national elections. When the journalists tried to organize theirselves, they were fired. They sued, and the court ruled in their favor.

Many in Thailand celebrated that decision as a strike for press freedom. Some were not too sure. The court also viewed ITV's firing of the reporters as an unjustifiable union-busting maneuver, and it was ultimately on that basis that the company was ordered to reinstate its workers.

Which is why some believe that the case ultimately had little impact on the rights of journalists, the nature of ITV, or the prospects of a free press in general. Even the reinstated journalists trooped back to Shin's TV station with no real intention of hanging around longer than it would take to collect their back pay.

What the ITV case did undisputedly represent was what Thai media had become under Thaksin's regime: Free to compete perhaps, but hardly empowered for self-determination. Through Shin, its subsidiaries, or the boardrooms where his business associates are esconced, the Prime Minister's moods are speculated to have influenced everything from ad placements to editorial board shakeups in major newspapers. Thai editors recognize a hostaged independence, a trend for self-censorship.

Even where there are no business vulnerabilities, Thaksin's personal and official relationship with the press has always been tense. In recent weeks alone, Thai authorities suspended no less than 17 community radio stations, snagging them on technicalities: They were overstepping their authorized frequencies, it was said, although many suspect some were closed down for simply being vocal.

Indeed, when one of those stations brought its programming to the Internet, the new website, too, was quickly ordered pulled, along with yet another site that specialized in compiling anti- Thaksin news and commentary from different media outlets.

Against all this, the Supinya case has become a rallying point. More than the ITV case and the media's run-ins with their thin-skinned Prime Minister, the defamation trial represents a genuine and official test case for Thai democracy and civil liberties.

The jurisprudence will be pivotal.

Shin Corp. vs Supinya will either free Thais to speak out for a better Thailand, or it will burden them with the onus of never speaking out unless armed with all the information and unreasonably complete truth that will always be out of reach, and thus teach them to not bother questioning people in power at all. This case will either empower Thai democracy, or it will render it a farce.

To be sure, because this is about defamation and not conflict- of-interest, Thaksin's personality and power is not exposed in this case. There is nothing about this trial that necessarily affects his incumbency, and even when he is no longer Prime Minister, he will remain Thailand's biggest businessman and most powerful media owner -- Asia's Berlusconi, as he is already famously known. Consequently, what Thaksin represents of the Thai media culture -- compromised and concentrated ownership, intolerance for criticism, a tendency for self-censorship, vulnerability to business and politics, and yes, conflicts-of- interest -- will also remain.

But as a Thaksin premiership will survive, all the more will a decision on Supinya mean more to Thais than any government. It will inevitably strike at their very Constitution and -- as what the international gallery and witnesses will be there for -- remind Thailand of its signature on the UN Convention on Human Rights and its provisions for free expression.

Just as important, the case will also inevitably lead to a discussion on the call to decriminalize defamation. For all these, any precedent the case sets will provide something to build on or something to bury. The courts will weaken the press by imprisoning Supinya, or it will provide surer footing for the press in the future.

For better or worse, this case will have a legacy. Whether it will be credited to the courage of Supinya or blamed on the interests of Thaksin remains to be seen. Undisputably, however, for the Thai media this is the fight worth fighting, Supinya's fate genuinely affecting all.

The writer is Executive Director of the Southeast Asian Press Alliance (SEAPA). He may be emailed at roby@seapabkk.org.