Japan's national broadcaster, is under siege -- and with it this
country's commitment to freedom of speech.
Last week, a government regulatory panel approved a ministerial
directive that would compel NHK to broadcast information on the
abductions of Japanese nationals by North Korea. Indications are
that Yoshihide Suga, communications minister, will give the order
to NHK soon.
The Oct. 24 evening edition of the Asahi Shinbun quoted the
minister as saying, "The greatest hope of [the abductees] awaiting
rescue in North Korea lies with the knowledge that their families
in Japan, the people of Japan and the government have not abandoned
them." He added that, in his desire to order NHK to air broadcasts
about the abductees on shortwave radio, he had "no intention
whatsoever of interfering in the content [of what is broadcast] and
that freedom of expression and freedom of information must be
protected."
NHK dug its heels in. Toyohiko Harada, executive director-general
in charge of broadcasting, asserted NHK's independence. "We base
our choice of programs on our own judgment, from the point of view
of journalism," he said.
By "the point of view of journalism," he clearly meant
"professionalism, not political expediency."
Since it was established in 1926 on the model of Britain's BBC
Radio -- and despite its use for propaganda purposes before and
during World War II -- NHK has striven to steer a course
independent from government policy. Such independence is now
guaranteed under broadcasting law; and previous postwar governments
have respected the letter and import of this law.
Pernicious example
The fuzzy area in this case lies in the leeway given the
communications minister to issue orders regarding information
broadcast on NHK's international service. This leeway is afforded
to the government thanks to its subsidizing of NHK -- in the case
of the shortwave service, to the tune of about 30 percent of its
total budget. In other words, you can tell the piper what to play
if you've paid for a few of the holes to be bored into his
pipe.
A more pernicious example of government interference in NHK
programming occurred in 2001 -- even though it came to light only
last year.
At the beginning of 2005, it was revealed that then Deputy Chief
Cabinet Secretary Shinzo Abe -- who is now prime minister --
together with Liberal Democratic Party lawmaker Shoichi Nakagawa
(currently chairman of the LDP's Policy Research Council), had met
with senior NHK officials on Jan. 29, 2001, telling them to delete
part of a television program scheduled for airing the next day. The
part alluded to the role of Emperor Hirohito (posthumously known as
the Showa Emperor) in the wartime policy of sexually enslaving
women for the Japanese military. Nakagawa insisted to the NHK
officials that he was not interfering with the content of programs,
but merely seeking reporting "from a fair and neutral
standpoint."
NHK buckled, and the program was partially censored. This was a
case of those paying the piper closing up a few holes in his pipe
to make his music more "beautiful" (i.e., patriotic), to quote
Abe's current slogan. It had nothing to do with "a fair and neutral
standpoint."
Where is the public outcry against interference in the nation's
freedoms? The silence from the public is deafening -- and there is
a reason for it. It is not due entirely to the usual timidity of
the Japanese people when faced with controversy.
The problem is that the public's faith in NHK and their commitment
to its legal integrity are suffering. Despite the fact that
everyone with a TV set is obliged to pay an annual fee of around
16,000 yen, it is estimated that, as of this year, nearly one-third
of TV owners are refusing to cough up. This is putting the national
broadcaster into a quite considerable financial pickle -- with the
added weight of the government, as pickling stone, pressing down
hard as well. There are now increasing calls in Japan to turn NHK
into a commercial channel.
As for those working in NHK, the pressure to make "popular"
programs is intensifying. A leading NHK producer told me only last
month that he and his colleagues have been given the word: "No more
programs for the few; more programs that are accessible to
all."
"Accessible" is, of course, a euphemism for lowering the common
denominator -- or "dumbing down," as it is inelegantly termed. It
seems that some people in charge of programming in NHK are
underestimating the intelligence of the public by equating it with
their own. Or are they simply running scared -- scared of a
government that has them by the ever-shortening curlies.
Reactionary politicians
Why doesn't the Japanese public come to NHK's rescue? Can a few
reactionary politicians and easily intimidated programmers destroy
the single television channel that can provide information to the
nation without presumably bowing to powerful commercial
interests?
The answer is a resounding, "You bet they can -- and, given half a
chance, they will!"
the ruling LDP has become much more bolshie, if you will, when it
comes to directly pressuring the broadcaster. A program on the
excellent NHK news show "Close Up Gendai," aired on March 28, 2005,
took up the issue of school authorities forcing teachers to sing
the national anthem at graduation ceremonies, bringing out the
teachers' viewpoints. LDP representatives in the Tokyo Metropolitan
Assembly strongly attacked the program as "biased."
Politicians must demonstrate their support for a truly independent
national broadcaster and desist from hiding their reactionary
agendas behind a screen of "fairness and neutrality." NHK, for its
part, must get its act together and eliminate loose management that
allows for corrupt practices. But on their part, it's surely high
time the Japanese people got their own act together regarding their
national broadcaster. It's called "belief in freedom of expression,
even when that expression may be unpopular." And it is only Act One
in the long drama called democracy.
