When Edward Murrow’s trademark, “This … is London”, crackled over the 1940s
wartime airwaves, he meant that his listeners would get both good news and bad from
his broadcast, but not deceptive information.

Just over a year ago, almost one billion Chinese viewers sat glued to their
television sets as soldiers fought, bombs were dropped, government leaders made
speeches one after another, a despot’s statue was toppled, victor’s flags were
raised and people greeted their liberators.

People were not watching communist propaganda. They were watching CNN, and Rupert
Murdoch’s news channels. From the first day of the Iraq war, the Chinese
authorities handed over the country’s five most popular TV channels to CNN and Mr
Murdoch.

Of the 3,000 international journalists reporting the war, not one was Chinese.
More than 100 were sent to the Iraqi border by their organisations, but the Chinese
authorities banned them from entering the country. Instead, they were only allowed
to report US government and military briefings.

 When Shui Junyi, a famous Chinese reporter, refused to leave Baghdad as he tried
to become the first Chinese journalist to report live from Iraq, the Chinese
ambassador reportedly escorted him out of the country in his limousine.

The authorities had good reason for banning Chinese journalists. According to one
editor,  the government did not want to see another “accidental” bombing by the
United States, following the incident in Belgrade in 1999. Then, Chinese
authorities faced a nightmare when Nato bombed the Chinese embassy, killing three
Chinese journalists and arousing nationwide anti-American protests.

During the Iraq coverage, some people praised the state television’s live
broadcast, claiming it was the beginning of uncensored news reporting in China; the
dawning of press freedom.  But there has been no coverage of the illegal detention
of Iraqi civilians, the plight of women and children, or the daily life and
frustrations in an occupied land. There has also been a lack of context in the
reporting. On Chinese TV, no one talks about the historical and cultural riches of
Iraq.  No one remembers that it was the home of the legendary traveller Sinbad, who
left for Canton hundreds of years ago. Viewers did not see the destruction of the
Babylonian culture; the looting of the museums and libraries.

If we define press freedom and an independent media as following the official
White House or Pentagon line, then the Chinese media did, indeed, become freer and
more independent.

What is freedom? Can we enforce the First Amendment (the right to freedom of
expression) on a global scale? Can we have a global democracy to protect the
underdog’s right to speak and make sure that the voice of weak countries is heard?
In the age of decentralised information, the flow of international news is becoming
more centralised. The corporate giants, such as CNN and Murdoch, are becoming the
dominating force.

In a war, it is understandable that the government and the military will try to
control and manipulate domestic and international public opinion in order to boost
soldiers’ morale and put pressure on the enemy’s emotions. The Pentagon has
skilfully used the doctrine of Sun Tzu, who said: “In war nothing is too
deceitful.” But few Chinese journalists seem to realise that truth is the first
casualty of war.

Global press freedom does not only reflect the views of the American press. If
global press freedom means that the audience will hear only one voice, see pictures
from only one perspective and get information from only one source, then what does
global dictatorship mean?

Li Xiguang is director of the Centre for International Communications Studies at
Tsinghua University. This article is abridged from his speech to be delivered today
at a Kuala Lumpur forum to commemorate World Press Freedom Day