At midnight on Sunday, a Venezuelan institution came to an end. After 53 years of broadcasting, the country's oldest television network, Radio Caracas Television, lost its license and went off the air, shut down at last by Hugo Chávez in retaliation for its virulent opposition to his administration.
Fans of Chávez's brand of populist socialism - like Tariq Ali speaking to Rory Carroll last week, or Labour MP Colin Burgon writing in Friday's paper - believe RCTV simply got what was coming to it. They point to the station's flawed and partisan coverage of the botched coup that briefly unseated Chávez in 2002, during which it failed to mention the crowds of Chávez supporters who took to the streets in protest. We wouldn't allow Fox News or Channel 4 to support the overthrow of the government without consequence, they argue; why should RCTV be treated any differently?
But just as we hold our media organizations accountable for their actions, so we expect our media regulators to deliberate carefully and transparently in meting out punishment. In Venezuela, there has been no such deliberation; instead, Chávez and his officials unilaterally branded the network coup-mongers and pornographers - the latter apparently a reference to the trashy but popular telenovelas that are standard fare on all the region's networks. No investigations, meetings or hearings were held to assess the station's failings; no evidence was presented, and the network was given no right of reply.
It wasn't until this March, three months after announcing its decision to revoke the station's license, that the government deigned to release a "White Book" giving an official account of the station's transgressions. More polemic than policy paper, the book only serves to underscore the arbitrary and politicized nature of the government's decision; RCTV is accused of a raft of minor sins, from sensationalizing its coverage of a recent murder to showing alcohol consumption during its coverage of a baseball game. RCTV had never previously received more than a warning for these violations; other stations guilty of the same or worse errors have been allowed to retain their licenses.
It's hard to see RCTV's closure - which was opposed by 70% of the Venezuelan people - as anything more than an act of political retaliation for the network's continuing, and increasingly isolated, resistance to the Chávez administration. While it's true that the country's media remains largely in private hands, most of the other opposition channels have allowed themselves to be cowed by Chávez's threats, and have substantially cut back their news and editorial coverage. Of the stations with national reach, only RCTV had remained an outspoken critic of the government; on Sunday night that voice, too, fell silent. (Claims that RCTV could stay on the air by switching to cable or satellite are disingenuous; even if the network survives, it will reach only a tiny fraction of its current audience.)
In pulling the plug on RCTV, Chávez appointed himself judge, jury and executioner; and in doing so, struck a dangerous blow against Venezuela's proud traditions of democracy and free speech. Worryingly, he did so as part of a wider campaign to stifle dissenting voices and independent views. Since coming to power, Chávez has pushed through a barrage of regulations designed to breed a compliant and uncritical media sector; organizations now face swingeing fines and license suspensions if they fail to meet vague and arbitrary "social responsibility" criteria, while draconian defamation regulations and "insult laws" make it illegal to show disrespect for government officials and institutions.
Sadly, Burgon's claim that no journalists have been punished for reporting or commenting on the government is simply untrue. Last year one columnist for a Caracas daily was sentenced to almost three years in jail and fined $14,945 for calling a government minister "unable and inept"; another TV pundit was recently prosecuted after suggesting the country should replace its increasingly-partisan Supreme Court with a brothel. Networks are liable to large fines and temporary license suspensions if they step out of line; increasingly, in Chávez's Venezuela, self-censorship is the order of the day.
And Chávez's blistering attacks on the media have dangerous consequences as they filter down to street level. Violent factions among Chávez's supporters, told time and again that the media are the enemy, are increasingly coming to see journalists as legitimate targtets. Reporters are threatened, intimidated and attacked on a regular basis; several opposition networks have had their offices stormed and ransacked and their vehicles torched. Though Chávez doesn't openly endorse these acts of intimidation, he's done little to stop them, and has not sought to temper his inflammatory rhetoric in response.
A few minutes after RCTV flickered off the air, a new network took its place: Venezuelan Social Television. The new public channel, run by Chávez appointees, will provide news and entertainment that is more palatable to Chávez's government; it will join a growing portfolio of state-owned channels that one government station chief says is part of Chávez's wider plan for "communication and information hegemony". The failure of the likes of Tariq Ali and Colin Burgon to recognize this as a blow to Venezuela's tradition of free speech shouldn't surprise anyone; Chávez is a past master at playing the international left to his own ends. The truth, though, is that this is one occasion when people on both the left and the right, as supporters of liberal democracy, should be prepared to cry foul.
Bookmarks