In the 10 days since my first article arguing that “the foreign media are failing Thailand”, it has become clear that there is broad agreement about the substantive points I raised.
After widespread criticism from a large number of its members, the FCCT board has admitted it was divided over whether to make a comment on Somtyot Pruksakasemsuk, and has belatedly issued a statement declaring it regards Article 112 as a constraint on freedom of expression and that the way the law is being enforced intimidates both the local and the foreign press. That’s a great start.
The issue of the FCCT’s stance is now a focus of debate in Thailand well beyond the foreign media clique that likes to congregate at the Maneeya Palaza clubhouse. The story of the FCCT’s initial refusal to comment, and its subsequent statement, has been covered by, among others, Prachatai, Voice TV, and Thai E-News. A number of Thai media are now intending to attend the FCCT’s AGM and election of a new board on February 15 and cover what happens in this unfolding news story. Given that the FCCT frequently states that one of its aims is to stimulate debate among Thais, I am sure that the board must be delighted by the publicity and scrutiny the club is now attracting in Thailand.
Various criticisms of my articles have offered no rebuttal to the substance of what I said, but have focused instead on two other issues: (1) the tone I chose to adopt and (2) the question of whether my comments were hypocritical given my own past actions and reporting of Thailand.
I’ve answered the comments about my tone in a blog post seeking common ground and productive discussion, which can be viewed here.
To respond to those who have questioned my own record and principles, all I can do is tell the story of how my coverage of Thailand evolved over the past 13 years, and how I came to leave Reuters. Those who have any interest in my autobiographical reminiscences can read them and make their own judgment about my credibility. Those who have no particular interest in my life story – i.e. almost everybody in this discussion – feel free to stop reading now.
I first arrived in Thailand in May 2000, as deputy bureau chief from Reuters, after two years covering Indonesia during the fall of President Suharto and subsequent instability and economic chaos. I worked in Thailand until October 2002, when I left to cover the U.S. invasion of Iraq.
During that period in Thailand I clashed frequently with my bureau chief and received several warning letters from the Thai authorities, but the central issue of contention was not my coverage of the Thai monarchy, it was my coverage of Thaksin Shinawatra. As is widely known, Thaksin and his allies were highly sensitive about perceived media criticism and deliberately eroded media freedom in Thailand between 2001 and 2006. Several articles I wrote caused outrage at Thai Rak Thai HQ, and in one memorable incident Thaksin threatened to come to the Reuters office and beat me up in comments broadcast on Thai TV. An account of that episode is here.
During this period, the monarchy appeared to have largely retreated from active involvement in Thai politics. Bhumibol was in semi-retirement in Klai Kangwon palace in Hua Hin, gamboling with his pet dogs. The 1997 constitution had laid the foundations for a post-Bhumibol Thailand. The problems with Vajiralongkorn were widely known, and sometimes mentioned obliquely by journalists, usually using the formula that the crown prince had “yet to earn the respect and affection” that his father had earned. During my period working for Reuters in Thailand, the monarchy impinged on news coverage only twice in a significant way, in two linked stories: Bhumibol’s scathing criticism of Thaksin in his December 2001 birthday speech, and the threats to expel and/or prosecute FEER journalists Rodney Tasker and Shawn Crispin over a brief item in January 2002 mentioning the tensions being generated by Thaksin’s financing of Vajiralongkorn. The pressure on Tasker and Crispin came from Thaksin and his allies, not the royalists. Indeed, in this period, Thaksin’s attitude towards freedom of speech was the biggest problem facing journalists in Thailand.
From late 2002 to late 2008, I was covering the Iraq war, and other conflicts in the Middle East, mainly as Baghdad bureau chief for Reuters from May 2003 to June 2005, and then as Reuters managing editor for the Middle East from March 2006 to November 2008. Living in Baghdad at the height of the insurgency was the most extreme situation I have ever faced as a journalist: we lived outside the protective but restrictive confines of the Green Zone, dealing with regular mortar attacks and the constant threat of suicide car bombs as well as kidnap gangs who would sell Western journalists to extremist groups who would film their decapitation and share it online. It is perhaps due to this experience that I am somewhat dismissive of the view of some FCCT board members that just criticizing Somyot’s sentence would be a terribly dangerous thing to do.
One parallel between Iraq in 2003-2008 and Thailand today is that in both cases there was significant pressure on journalists to report the official narrative rather than the truth. The United States continued to insist that it was rebuilding Iraq and defeating the insurgency well past the point that it became clear to anyone based in Baghdad that the reverse was true. American news conferences during this period were rather like Royal Household Bureau communiques about the king’s health: the situation was always improving, never getting worse. Officials became irate when journalists reported the truth rather than fairytales.
In late 2008 I returned to Southeast Asia, first as Reuters chief correspondent for political risk, then as emerging markets editor. Both jobs were based in Singapore but involved extensive reporting on all the countries of the region, including Thailand. By this time, following the royalist coup of September 2006 and Sirikit’s disastrous decision to preside at a Yellow Shirt funeral in October 2008, it was no longer possible for any credible journalist or media organization to ignore the monarchy’s entanglement in Thailand’s unfolding political crisis. Following the PAD seizure of Bangkok’s airports, I made a forceful case to my managers that Reuters should write a story about the king’s role and the succession, to coincide with Bhumibol’s birthday. They were very paranoid about the risks, and a conference call was hastily convened with top editors in Asia and a Thai lawyer dialing in from Bangkok who had been hired at considerable expense to provide legal advice on lese majeste. For almost an hour, we discussed the draft story I had written, with the lawyer rejecting every point I made as far too risky. “So what can I say?” I eventually asked.
“You can say,” the lawyer said, “that the king is fine and everything is fine.”
That story was eventually published in a very watered-down version. Those who are interested can read it here.
Over the next two years, there was constant conflict between me, my managers and the Reuters bureau chief in Bangkok over how far we should go in reporting the story. I began speaking more frankly on Reuters blog, which became another point of contention. In late 2010 I got hold of the DSI reports on the killing of Hiro Muramoto, and six Thais inside Wat Pathum Wanaran, and it took significant struggle to get them to run the story. When the first few WikiLeaks cables on Thailand emerged, with very interesting comments by Prem and Anand on the succession, it was another struggle to get Reuters managers to agree to issue a story, but eventually I was allowed to publish this.
By the start of 2011, I felt increasingly restricted in my ability to report frankly on Thailand, but didn’t yet expect that this would lead me to leave Reuters. But in February 2011 I discovered that Reuters had obtained the entire Cablegate cache of quarter of a million leaked U.S. cables from a disgruntled WikiLeaks employee. Several other major news organizations had obtained the cables in the same way, and in characteristic fashion, most had done absolutely nothing with them. Reuters refused to allow me to work on the cables during office hours, so I downloaded all the cables relevant to Thailand and began working on an analysis of them in my spare time.
During this period I also discovered that Reuters had never given the Thai authorities the findings of an investigation it had commissioned from Control Risks into the death of Hiro Muramoto. The investigation had concluded that Hiro was shot by a bullet from a Thai soldier when troops randomly fired at protesters after a grenade attack killed their commander. The DSI report leaked to Reuters in December 2010 came to the same conclusions. But in February 2011, under pressure from the military, the DSI tried to stage a whitewash, producing a bogus forensic expert who claimed photographs of Hiro’s entry and exit wounds showed he had been shot by an AK-47 rather than a Thai military weapon. It was in this context that I discovered Reuters had tried to keep the Control Risks report secret. I began pressing managers to do the right thing and hand over the report to the Thai authorities.
By mid-March, having read and digested the WikiLeaks cables on Thailand, I had realized it was highly probable that Reuters would never agree to publish them: the content was too explosive. I also concluded that the cables were extremely important and deserved to be in the public domain. As a journalist I could not just pretend I had never seen the cables, and leave the insights they contained out of my reporting on Thailand. So I made the decision that regardless of whether Reuters agreed to publish my work on the cables, I would ensure that the cables and my analysis were published. If necessary, I would resign from Reuters to do so.
I announced this at a lecture at Payyap University in Chiang Mai in March 2011, and later in the month I shared the news here on New Mandala. You can read that discussion here.
Unsurprisingly, Reuters senior managers were unhappy about my behaviour over Hiro Muramoto and WikiLeaks. In early April, the rift widened when my colleague David Fox was fired over a joke he accidentally shared in an internal Reuters internet chat room during banter with me. I was shocked and disgusted by his treatment. Because of a bizarre quirk of the Reuters HR department’s rules, David was never even allowed to appeal against his dismissal, but I had the right to appeal against my punishment in the saga: a formal warning letter. Clearly I wasn’t bothered about a warning letter from HR, but I appealed in order to pressure Reuters to reconsider its appalling treatment of David. I also spoke to several media organizations about what had happened, and the case attracted significant attention, much to the dismay of Reuters management.
I lost count of the disciplinary letters and HR warnings I received during this period but you can view one example here.
In late May, I was informed by my boss in Reuters that the company would never publish the cables or my work on them. So I told him I would resign to publish anyway, as soon as I had exhausted the appeals process in the David Fox incident. I wanted to go through the appeal before resigning to help David’s case. My appeal can be viewed here .
At the start of June, as expected, Reuters formally rejected my appeal. I resigned immediately and announced this via Twitter. Three weeks later I published #thaistory.
During the same month, Reuters then-CEO Tom Glocer personally intervened in the David Fox case after learning all the facts, and ordered company lawyers to reach an amicable settlement with David. He now works in his dream job, as head of communications for the Asia One golf tour.
Later in 2011, after further pressure from me, Reuters finally handed the Control Risks report on Hiro to the Thai authorities.
As the outcome of both the Hiro Muramoto and the David Fox case shows, Reuters eventually did the right thing. I could have won these battles without leaving Reuters. But there was no way to publish the cables and #thaistory while still at Reuters. In order to do my job according to my principles as a journalist, I had to resign from Reuters.
I’ve had intermittent discussions with the Thai police and Thai diplomats about how risky it would be for me to return to Thailand. As far as I know there has not been a formal lese majeste complaint lodged against me, but as we know, a complaint could easily be lodged at any time, and if I return to Thailand there is a high probability that I will spend a significant amount of time in prison. This is not something that I am keen to do, especially now that I have a wife and son to support. And so I live outside Thailand, and my wife has had to leave her job as the NBC News producer in Thailand so that we can live together as a family. Those are the decisions we have taken.
If some people want to argue that my story shows me to be a hypocrite, or whatever, fine, they are welcome to make that argument. Whatever people think of me has no bearing on the issue we are discussing, which is whether journalists covering Thailand are doing so in an ethnical and professional way.
Tom: I think if you follow some of the links at the bottom of the article you will get a full picture of the environmental and human consequences of this voracious appetite for sand on the part of Singapore…clearly the article does not pretend to be comprehensive and is merely an introduction to the immense degradation going on to this day in and around Koh Kong.
Of course, but that’s not really what the nit picking of Marcus was about. The nit picking was really an unfair bludgeoning carried over from callous misinterpretation of the previous tolerating intolerance post – into this entry, which further elaborated on Walker’s position. Where injustice begins and ends is not the purpose of this post, but, immaturely, it seems to become that for those with personal bents against what context they find themselves in.
Health warning: I must not assume my own epiphany over LM in Thailand has been replicated in all Thais (paraphrase of someone else’s Facebook comment)
Andrew Walker’s article is useful but begs a few questions.
Just who has been making the claim that non-Thai journalists must lead the campaign (against LM)? Two paragraphs later this reservation of Andrew’s has morphed into whether or not non-Thai commentators have a central role to play in the LM reform campaign.
I would say “no” to the first (and I suspect it of being an Aunt Sally) but “yes” to the second in the sense that a central role alongside progressive Thais and at their invitation is a positive step forward.
It is no doubt true that western commentary by and large “speaks to the converted”, but this group includes converted Thais such as journalist Pravit Rojanaphruk who in turn is more than capable of converting other Thais. (I sincerely hope that Andrew wasn’t thinking only of westerners when he talked of the converted.) Pravit has called Andrew McGregor Marshall (AMcM) “a true friend of Thai democracy.”
In talking about the succession Andrew states “Vajiralongkorn’s much less potent reign holds out a much better prospect for reform.” I wouldn’t be too sure, at least in the short term. Many say that the current rise in LM cases is to prepare the ground for anticipated difficulties after Bhumibol has departed. It could get vicious. That is why AMcG’s call for the FCCT to wake up and have robust procedures in place before the event is so timely.
At the recent EU meeting in Bangkok on “Reconciliation and Freedom of Expression” Sulak Sivaraksa was asked what kind of international support was it that managed to get his LM charge dismissed in 1984, even though the public prosecutor said “We have sufficient evidence for the case and we do not withdraw it because the accused is innocent. We have to do so because of other reasons which cannot be disclosed.”
His answer intimated that it was subtle behind the scenes pressure that worked in his case. He worried that the current more “full on” approach being taken in the case of Somyot Prueksakasemsuk might prove to be counterproductive. In other words, the 1984 approach might be better.
This seems in essence what Andrew Walker is arguing. Does he really want to stop the clock in this manner?
Walkers’ “practical” argument against foreigners speaking against lese majeste could be applied to virtually every attempt in human history to advance or defend the cause of human rights. I’m sure there were lots of journalists in and outside Germany in the 1930’s who thought the same way.
If a cause is already popular,who needs a free and scrupulous press to defend it? Could if be that the kind of “practical” journalism described by Walker is exactly what has produced generations of political parrots and literary eunuchs among so many Thai journalists.
Indo Ojek,
The answer to your question as to why it’s your moral duty to question LM can be found in a small poem by Martin Niemoeller. “First they came”………… Injustice is injustice wherever it is found.
‘…there is a real possibility that the ultra-royalists in Thailand applaud every time Western critics of the king air their views.’
Not trying to nit-pick, Mr Walker, but you might more properly have said ‘critics of the misused LM law, article 112’. So termed, it would be something quite different. So termed, there remains a moral duty to criticise it, and any applause of the ultra-royalists be damned.
The article is not in depth at all, and completely misses the fact that thousands of poor families who live and work on the river banks are being displaced because their land is literally being taken. In addition to that Cambodia has a lot of natural reefs in its coastlines which are being harmed and destroyed.
I think they would be further ahead to build large floating structures of concrete and steel. On these floating structures they can build all manner of structures. They can also have floating breakwaters and even beaches.
The engineering is not hard, just make it strong enough to deal with wave action, with flexure joints as needed. They can even allow them to settle to the bottom in areas where the bottom is fir enough. They will have to be scraped every year or so by robot scrapers to remove reef builders etc.
I thnk this would be a good way. The large basements would be useful for storage, and waterprrof doors would be needed to prevent leaks from sinking them. (properly made, with several overlapped areas of sealant leaks would be minimal)
Island states like Singapoore and Maldives are facing a big threat: Sinking in the ocean as a result of global warming which is caused mainly by Western developed countries. That is the bigger picture that one needs to see for making any moral or environmentalist judgement. If you really care about the nature, why don’t you start with stopping the global warming?
I think Jerome makes some good points. I would add that evidence from the last 20 years clearly indicates that not every or even most of the planned dams mentioned in planning documents, and included on maps, are likely to be built, at least in the near or foreseeable future. However, even with this being the case, it is still true that hydropower development is taking place at a rapid pace, and that the interests of some are dominating those of others. Thus, taking a political ecology approach to looking at hydropower development in the Mekong Region does generally make sense. However, that means considering both the political economy and the ecology. Matthews should have paid more attention to the latter.
The concept of global land grabbing has become popular in recent years, but recently, despite the recognition that land displacement remains a very important issue, it is also being increasingly recognized that those who have used the term have sometimes failed to sufficiently acknowledge all the factors associated with land alienation problems. For example, the global land grabbing meta-narrative has tended to put all the blame on global capital and foreign governments for land alienation problems. While they have certainly played an important role, it is also true that other more localized forms of capital and elite capture also deserve greater attention. Land grabbing is not playing out in the same ways everywhere. So, there are not only problems with the concept of water grabbing, but we should also be concerned with the concept of global land grabbing as well.
Still, I see some value in Matthews’ article. Part of the analysis makes sense. However, the material nature of river water should have been considered and analyzed in more detail. Water is not the same as land; it flows and can be used again downstream. So, how does the materiality of water affect resource use and tenure, as compared to land? I asked this same question last year during the book launch for ‘Powers of Exclusion’ at the Association of American Geographers’ annual meeting in New York. Matthews could have usefully done the same.
It is true, as Jerome has pointed out, that the question of water ownership is not really part of the debate in the Mekong Region, at least not yet. However, the question of whose interests should receive priority is a hot topic. So, if we were to think of water grabbing in relation to hydropower development in terms of priorities for usage in relation to environmental services, etc., then the argument would make more sense. Although the theoretical work required to do that was not done by Matthews, if it had been done, his paper could have been quite interesting. As it stands, however, its potential has not been fully realized.
I’m another farang who has lived more than 10 years in Thailand.I totally share Arthurson’s view.
By the way I would like to express my deep sympathy to Surachai. Very few people can express such a high sense of sacrifice and such a clear and pragmatic analysis of the current situation. I hope this could shake and question the awareness of the Thai youth.
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Singapore’s insatiable hunger for sand
Hey thanks, I didn’t even see those.
Tolerating intolerance
In the 10 days since my first article arguing that “the foreign media are failing Thailand”, it has become clear that there is broad agreement about the substantive points I raised.
After widespread criticism from a large number of its members, the FCCT board has admitted it was divided over whether to make a comment on Somtyot Pruksakasemsuk, and has belatedly issued a statement declaring it regards Article 112 as a constraint on freedom of expression and that the way the law is being enforced intimidates both the local and the foreign press. That’s a great start.
The issue of the FCCT’s stance is now a focus of debate in Thailand well beyond the foreign media clique that likes to congregate at the Maneeya Palaza clubhouse. The story of the FCCT’s initial refusal to comment, and its subsequent statement, has been covered by, among others, Prachatai, Voice TV, and Thai E-News. A number of Thai media are now intending to attend the FCCT’s AGM and election of a new board on February 15 and cover what happens in this unfolding news story. Given that the FCCT frequently states that one of its aims is to stimulate debate among Thais, I am sure that the board must be delighted by the publicity and scrutiny the club is now attracting in Thailand.
Various criticisms of my articles have offered no rebuttal to the substance of what I said, but have focused instead on two other issues: (1) the tone I chose to adopt and (2) the question of whether my comments were hypocritical given my own past actions and reporting of Thailand.
I’ve answered the comments about my tone in a blog post seeking common ground and productive discussion, which can be viewed here.
To respond to those who have questioned my own record and principles, all I can do is tell the story of how my coverage of Thailand evolved over the past 13 years, and how I came to leave Reuters. Those who have any interest in my autobiographical reminiscences can read them and make their own judgment about my credibility. Those who have no particular interest in my life story – i.e. almost everybody in this discussion – feel free to stop reading now.
I first arrived in Thailand in May 2000, as deputy bureau chief from Reuters, after two years covering Indonesia during the fall of President Suharto and subsequent instability and economic chaos. I worked in Thailand until October 2002, when I left to cover the U.S. invasion of Iraq.
During that period in Thailand I clashed frequently with my bureau chief and received several warning letters from the Thai authorities, but the central issue of contention was not my coverage of the Thai monarchy, it was my coverage of Thaksin Shinawatra. As is widely known, Thaksin and his allies were highly sensitive about perceived media criticism and deliberately eroded media freedom in Thailand between 2001 and 2006. Several articles I wrote caused outrage at Thai Rak Thai HQ, and in one memorable incident Thaksin threatened to come to the Reuters office and beat me up in comments broadcast on Thai TV. An account of that episode is here.
During this period, the monarchy appeared to have largely retreated from active involvement in Thai politics. Bhumibol was in semi-retirement in Klai Kangwon palace in Hua Hin, gamboling with his pet dogs. The 1997 constitution had laid the foundations for a post-Bhumibol Thailand. The problems with Vajiralongkorn were widely known, and sometimes mentioned obliquely by journalists, usually using the formula that the crown prince had “yet to earn the respect and affection” that his father had earned. During my period working for Reuters in Thailand, the monarchy impinged on news coverage only twice in a significant way, in two linked stories: Bhumibol’s scathing criticism of Thaksin in his December 2001 birthday speech, and the threats to expel and/or prosecute FEER journalists Rodney Tasker and Shawn Crispin over a brief item in January 2002 mentioning the tensions being generated by Thaksin’s financing of Vajiralongkorn. The pressure on Tasker and Crispin came from Thaksin and his allies, not the royalists. Indeed, in this period, Thaksin’s attitude towards freedom of speech was the biggest problem facing journalists in Thailand.
From late 2002 to late 2008, I was covering the Iraq war, and other conflicts in the Middle East, mainly as Baghdad bureau chief for Reuters from May 2003 to June 2005, and then as Reuters managing editor for the Middle East from March 2006 to November 2008. Living in Baghdad at the height of the insurgency was the most extreme situation I have ever faced as a journalist: we lived outside the protective but restrictive confines of the Green Zone, dealing with regular mortar attacks and the constant threat of suicide car bombs as well as kidnap gangs who would sell Western journalists to extremist groups who would film their decapitation and share it online. It is perhaps due to this experience that I am somewhat dismissive of the view of some FCCT board members that just criticizing Somyot’s sentence would be a terribly dangerous thing to do.
One parallel between Iraq in 2003-2008 and Thailand today is that in both cases there was significant pressure on journalists to report the official narrative rather than the truth. The United States continued to insist that it was rebuilding Iraq and defeating the insurgency well past the point that it became clear to anyone based in Baghdad that the reverse was true. American news conferences during this period were rather like Royal Household Bureau communiques about the king’s health: the situation was always improving, never getting worse. Officials became irate when journalists reported the truth rather than fairytales.
In late 2008 I returned to Southeast Asia, first as Reuters chief correspondent for political risk, then as emerging markets editor. Both jobs were based in Singapore but involved extensive reporting on all the countries of the region, including Thailand. By this time, following the royalist coup of September 2006 and Sirikit’s disastrous decision to preside at a Yellow Shirt funeral in October 2008, it was no longer possible for any credible journalist or media organization to ignore the monarchy’s entanglement in Thailand’s unfolding political crisis. Following the PAD seizure of Bangkok’s airports, I made a forceful case to my managers that Reuters should write a story about the king’s role and the succession, to coincide with Bhumibol’s birthday. They were very paranoid about the risks, and a conference call was hastily convened with top editors in Asia and a Thai lawyer dialing in from Bangkok who had been hired at considerable expense to provide legal advice on lese majeste. For almost an hour, we discussed the draft story I had written, with the lawyer rejecting every point I made as far too risky. “So what can I say?” I eventually asked.
“You can say,” the lawyer said, “that the king is fine and everything is fine.”
That story was eventually published in a very watered-down version. Those who are interested can read it here.
Over the next two years, there was constant conflict between me, my managers and the Reuters bureau chief in Bangkok over how far we should go in reporting the story. I began speaking more frankly on Reuters blog, which became another point of contention. In late 2010 I got hold of the DSI reports on the killing of Hiro Muramoto, and six Thais inside Wat Pathum Wanaran, and it took significant struggle to get them to run the story. When the first few WikiLeaks cables on Thailand emerged, with very interesting comments by Prem and Anand on the succession, it was another struggle to get Reuters managers to agree to issue a story, but eventually I was allowed to publish this.
By the start of 2011, I felt increasingly restricted in my ability to report frankly on Thailand, but didn’t yet expect that this would lead me to leave Reuters. But in February 2011 I discovered that Reuters had obtained the entire Cablegate cache of quarter of a million leaked U.S. cables from a disgruntled WikiLeaks employee. Several other major news organizations had obtained the cables in the same way, and in characteristic fashion, most had done absolutely nothing with them. Reuters refused to allow me to work on the cables during office hours, so I downloaded all the cables relevant to Thailand and began working on an analysis of them in my spare time.
During this period I also discovered that Reuters had never given the Thai authorities the findings of an investigation it had commissioned from Control Risks into the death of Hiro Muramoto. The investigation had concluded that Hiro was shot by a bullet from a Thai soldier when troops randomly fired at protesters after a grenade attack killed their commander. The DSI report leaked to Reuters in December 2010 came to the same conclusions. But in February 2011, under pressure from the military, the DSI tried to stage a whitewash, producing a bogus forensic expert who claimed photographs of Hiro’s entry and exit wounds showed he had been shot by an AK-47 rather than a Thai military weapon. It was in this context that I discovered Reuters had tried to keep the Control Risks report secret. I began pressing managers to do the right thing and hand over the report to the Thai authorities.
By mid-March, having read and digested the WikiLeaks cables on Thailand, I had realized it was highly probable that Reuters would never agree to publish them: the content was too explosive. I also concluded that the cables were extremely important and deserved to be in the public domain. As a journalist I could not just pretend I had never seen the cables, and leave the insights they contained out of my reporting on Thailand. So I made the decision that regardless of whether Reuters agreed to publish my work on the cables, I would ensure that the cables and my analysis were published. If necessary, I would resign from Reuters to do so.
I announced this at a lecture at Payyap University in Chiang Mai in March 2011, and later in the month I shared the news here on New Mandala. You can read that discussion here.
Unsurprisingly, Reuters senior managers were unhappy about my behaviour over Hiro Muramoto and WikiLeaks. In early April, the rift widened when my colleague David Fox was fired over a joke he accidentally shared in an internal Reuters internet chat room during banter with me. I was shocked and disgusted by his treatment. Because of a bizarre quirk of the Reuters HR department’s rules, David was never even allowed to appeal against his dismissal, but I had the right to appeal against my punishment in the saga: a formal warning letter. Clearly I wasn’t bothered about a warning letter from HR, but I appealed in order to pressure Reuters to reconsider its appalling treatment of David. I also spoke to several media organizations about what had happened, and the case attracted significant attention, much to the dismay of Reuters management.
I lost count of the disciplinary letters and HR warnings I received during this period but you can view one example here.
In late May, I was informed by my boss in Reuters that the company would never publish the cables or my work on them. So I told him I would resign to publish anyway, as soon as I had exhausted the appeals process in the David Fox incident. I wanted to go through the appeal before resigning to help David’s case. My appeal can be viewed here .
At the start of June, as expected, Reuters formally rejected my appeal. I resigned immediately and announced this via Twitter. Three weeks later I published #thaistory.
During the same month, Reuters then-CEO Tom Glocer personally intervened in the David Fox case after learning all the facts, and ordered company lawyers to reach an amicable settlement with David. He now works in his dream job, as head of communications for the Asia One golf tour.
Later in 2011, after further pressure from me, Reuters finally handed the Control Risks report on Hiro to the Thai authorities.
As the outcome of both the Hiro Muramoto and the David Fox case shows, Reuters eventually did the right thing. I could have won these battles without leaving Reuters. But there was no way to publish the cables and #thaistory while still at Reuters. In order to do my job according to my principles as a journalist, I had to resign from Reuters.
I’ve had intermittent discussions with the Thai police and Thai diplomats about how risky it would be for me to return to Thailand. As far as I know there has not been a formal lese majeste complaint lodged against me, but as we know, a complaint could easily be lodged at any time, and if I return to Thailand there is a high probability that I will spend a significant amount of time in prison. This is not something that I am keen to do, especially now that I have a wife and son to support. And so I live outside Thailand, and my wife has had to leave her job as the NBC News producer in Thailand so that we can live together as a family. Those are the decisions we have taken.
If some people want to argue that my story shows me to be a hypocrite, or whatever, fine, they are welcome to make that argument. Whatever people think of me has no bearing on the issue we are discussing, which is whether journalists covering Thailand are doing so in an ethnical and professional way.
Singapore’s insatiable hunger for sand
Tom: I think if you follow some of the links at the bottom of the article you will get a full picture of the environmental and human consequences of this voracious appetite for sand on the part of Singapore…clearly the article does not pretend to be comprehensive and is merely an introduction to the immense degradation going on to this day in and around Koh Kong.
Western campaigners and lèse-majesté
Of course, but that’s not really what the nit picking of Marcus was about. The nit picking was really an unfair bludgeoning carried over from callous misinterpretation of the previous tolerating intolerance post – into this entry, which further elaborated on Walker’s position. Where injustice begins and ends is not the purpose of this post, but, immaturely, it seems to become that for those with personal bents against what context they find themselves in.
Western campaigners and lèse-majesté
Health warning: I must not assume my own epiphany over LM in Thailand has been replicated in all Thais (paraphrase of someone else’s Facebook comment)
Andrew Walker’s article is useful but begs a few questions.
Just who has been making the claim that non-Thai journalists must lead the campaign (against LM)? Two paragraphs later this reservation of Andrew’s has morphed into whether or not non-Thai commentators have a central role to play in the LM reform campaign.
I would say “no” to the first (and I suspect it of being an Aunt Sally) but “yes” to the second in the sense that a central role alongside progressive Thais and at their invitation is a positive step forward.
It is no doubt true that western commentary by and large “speaks to the converted”, but this group includes converted Thais such as journalist Pravit Rojanaphruk who in turn is more than capable of converting other Thais. (I sincerely hope that Andrew wasn’t thinking only of westerners when he talked of the converted.) Pravit has called Andrew McGregor Marshall (AMcM) “a true friend of Thai democracy.”
In talking about the succession Andrew states “Vajiralongkorn’s much less potent reign holds out a much better prospect for reform.” I wouldn’t be too sure, at least in the short term. Many say that the current rise in LM cases is to prepare the ground for anticipated difficulties after Bhumibol has departed. It could get vicious. That is why AMcG’s call for the FCCT to wake up and have robust procedures in place before the event is so timely.
At the recent EU meeting in Bangkok on “Reconciliation and Freedom of Expression” Sulak Sivaraksa was asked what kind of international support was it that managed to get his LM charge dismissed in 1984, even though the public prosecutor said “We have sufficient evidence for the case and we do not withdraw it because the accused is innocent. We have to do so because of other reasons which cannot be disclosed.”
His answer intimated that it was subtle behind the scenes pressure that worked in his case. He worried that the current more “full on” approach being taken in the case of Somyot Prueksakasemsuk might prove to be counterproductive. In other words, the 1984 approach might be better.
This seems in essence what Andrew Walker is arguing. Does he really want to stop the clock in this manner?
Western campaigners and lèse-majesté
Walkers’ “practical” argument against foreigners speaking against lese majeste could be applied to virtually every attempt in human history to advance or defend the cause of human rights. I’m sure there were lots of journalists in and outside Germany in the 1930’s who thought the same way.
If a cause is already popular,who needs a free and scrupulous press to defend it? Could if be that the kind of “practical” journalism described by Walker is exactly what has produced generations of political parrots and literary eunuchs among so many Thai journalists.
Western campaigners and lèse-majesté
another informative article that will unfortunatly fall on deaf uninterested ears
thx
Western campaigners and lèse-majesté
Indo Ojek,
The answer to your question as to why it’s your moral duty to question LM can be found in a small poem by Martin Niemoeller. “First they came”………… Injustice is injustice wherever it is found.
Western campaigners and lèse-majesté
Marcus of the Knights Templar, I would like to understand why it’s your moral duty to criticise it.
Western campaigners and lèse-majesté
‘…there is a real possibility that the ultra-royalists in Thailand applaud every time Western critics of the king air their views.’
Not trying to nit-pick, Mr Walker, but you might more properly have said ‘critics of the misused LM law, article 112’. So termed, it would be something quite different. So termed, there remains a moral duty to criticise it, and any applause of the ultra-royalists be damned.
Tolerating intolerance
Vichai N, honestly, try restructuring your sentence, it really makes more sense:
“Had the royalists been less venomous, virulent and violent would the hyper-assertiveness from the Reds have been less so? Maybe and maybe not.”
Singapore’s insatiable hunger for sand
The article is not in depth at all, and completely misses the fact that thousands of poor families who live and work on the river banks are being displaced because their land is literally being taken. In addition to that Cambodia has a lot of natural reefs in its coastlines which are being harmed and destroyed.
Singapore’s insatiable hunger for sand
[…] http://www.newmandala.org/2012/04/25/singapores-insatiable-hunger-for-sand/ […]
Singapore’s insatiable hunger for sand
I think they would be further ahead to build large floating structures of concrete and steel. On these floating structures they can build all manner of structures. They can also have floating breakwaters and even beaches.
The engineering is not hard, just make it strong enough to deal with wave action, with flexure joints as needed. They can even allow them to settle to the bottom in areas where the bottom is fir enough. They will have to be scraped every year or so by robot scrapers to remove reef builders etc.
I thnk this would be a good way. The large basements would be useful for storage, and waterprrof doors would be needed to prevent leaks from sinking them. (properly made, with several overlapped areas of sealant leaks would be minimal)
Singapore’s insatiable hunger for sand
Island states like Singapoore and Maldives are facing a big threat: Sinking in the ocean as a result of global warming which is caused mainly by Western developed countries. That is the bigger picture that one needs to see for making any moral or environmentalist judgement. If you really care about the nature, why don’t you start with stopping the global warming?
Thailand’s Mekong water grab
Greetings,
I think Jerome makes some good points. I would add that evidence from the last 20 years clearly indicates that not every or even most of the planned dams mentioned in planning documents, and included on maps, are likely to be built, at least in the near or foreseeable future. However, even with this being the case, it is still true that hydropower development is taking place at a rapid pace, and that the interests of some are dominating those of others. Thus, taking a political ecology approach to looking at hydropower development in the Mekong Region does generally make sense. However, that means considering both the political economy and the ecology. Matthews should have paid more attention to the latter.
The concept of global land grabbing has become popular in recent years, but recently, despite the recognition that land displacement remains a very important issue, it is also being increasingly recognized that those who have used the term have sometimes failed to sufficiently acknowledge all the factors associated with land alienation problems. For example, the global land grabbing meta-narrative has tended to put all the blame on global capital and foreign governments for land alienation problems. While they have certainly played an important role, it is also true that other more localized forms of capital and elite capture also deserve greater attention. Land grabbing is not playing out in the same ways everywhere. So, there are not only problems with the concept of water grabbing, but we should also be concerned with the concept of global land grabbing as well.
Still, I see some value in Matthews’ article. Part of the analysis makes sense. However, the material nature of river water should have been considered and analyzed in more detail. Water is not the same as land; it flows and can be used again downstream. So, how does the materiality of water affect resource use and tenure, as compared to land? I asked this same question last year during the book launch for ‘Powers of Exclusion’ at the Association of American Geographers’ annual meeting in New York. Matthews could have usefully done the same.
It is true, as Jerome has pointed out, that the question of water ownership is not really part of the debate in the Mekong Region, at least not yet. However, the question of whose interests should receive priority is a hot topic. So, if we were to think of water grabbing in relation to hydropower development in terms of priorities for usage in relation to environmental services, etc., then the argument would make more sense. Although the theoretical work required to do that was not done by Matthews, if it had been done, his paper could have been quite interesting. As it stands, however, its potential has not been fully realized.
Interview with Surachai Danwattananusorn
I’m another farang who has lived more than 10 years in Thailand.I totally share Arthurson’s view.
By the way I would like to express my deep sympathy to Surachai. Very few people can express such a high sense of sacrifice and such a clear and pragmatic analysis of the current situation. I hope this could shake and question the awareness of the Thai youth.
Tolerating intolerance
” … the unpleasant side effects of Thailand’s hyper-royalism is that is produces a virulent anti-royal fundamentalism.”
Amen to that!
Had the royalists been less hyper-assertive, would the venom, virulence and violence from the Reds been less so? Maybe and maybe not.
Tolerating intolerance
A middle-way contribution to the discussion from Chiang Mai City News:
Siamese atrocities in Chiang Kham
Both Siamese and French were quite matched in their records regarding atrocities perpetrated. For Lao, they were both, bad news.