Control and manipulation of media have been at the core of poli­tics since the modern industrial states made mass media possible. Whether the blatant propaganda of Soviet and Nazi‑style states, or the “manufacture of consent” through the techniques of capitalist democracy, mass media shape politics. Control of mass media is something to struggle over. The Chinese Communist Party has always viewed propaganda as “a proactive tool to be used in educating and shaping society.” M. K. Gandhi, India’s “father of the nation,” had a gentler but similarly all‑embracing view: “I have taken up journal­ism not for its sake but merely as an aid to ... my mission in life ... to teach by example.” For the mission, journalism was crucial.

Today, two structural differences starkly separate Chinese and Indian media. At one level, they are as simple as the fact that China is a one‑party state and India is a multi‑party state. In China, provincial governments and their party bosses “do” media, thereby ensuring that party leaders like President Hu do not need to do “free flowing”. Chinese presidents get the media they demand. Every provincial government in China is a creation of the Communist Party and directs and monopolises all forms of media.

In the Indian federation, on the other hand, no state government is allowed to run a radio station or television channel; some have canvassed the possibility but been prevented. The central government has a monopoly on broadcasting under a quaint law — the Indian Telegraph Act of 1885. India has a national broadcaster financed by the state, and, in theory, modelled on the BBC. The government of the day tries to use it as a mouthpiece, and its ponderous offerings fare poorly with viewers in the face of the ratings‑ oriented programming of private TV operators.

The book offers a comparative study of media in the world’s most populous countries — China and India

The second obvious difference is that every media outlet in China has members of the Communist Party on its staff who report to a higher authority and are responsible for seeing that central directives are followed. And every media outlet, though it may operate on commercial lines and depend on advertisers, exists under the authority of the Communist Party. Some Indian politicians look enviously at such conditions, but whenever greater regulation has been mooted in India, widespread protests have quickly killed the suggestion. India’s media are increasingly controlled by a few great commercial interests, notably the Ambani family, Bennett Coleman and Company Ltd (BCCL), which owns the Times of India group, and Rupert Murdoch’s Star India. They rival the state in having power to determine what does not get published or broadcast. But these three media giants face vigorous competition from more than 20 well‑resourced, if smaller, media barons.

The pre‑1950 history of media in China and India were notably different, and the regimes that came to power in 1947 and 1949 reinforced those differences. Indian newspapers, such as the English-language Hindu of Chennai, the Bengali Ananda Bazar Patrika of Kolkata and the Hindi Aaj of Varanasi, originated as far back as the 1870s to voice Indian indignation at aspects of British rule. The multiplicity of languages, and the competition between Indian‑owned and British‑owned newspapers meant that throughout the 20th century, India’s media choir sang a variety of tunes in a number of languages. Discord was standard and unavoidable.

In China, as early as the 1920s, both major political actors, the Nationalists and Communists, opted for Leninist‑style, single‑voice movements and parties. By the time of Sun Yat‑sen’s death in 1925, “no newspaper published in the customary format and founded ­on fundamentally commercial lines could ‘represent the party’ in the way the party now expected to be represented.” In India, the national movement spoke with many voices, and nothing like a dominant “party paper” ever existed.

Today, the significance of media in China and India is clear. The world’s two most populous countries, containing close to 40 per cent of the global population, have disputed boundaries and the legacy of a war in 1962 that India lost. Mass media in both countries play a pivotal role in domestic politics, and as part of that role, they may tell provocative nationalist stories. An Indian television editor explained in 2013: “The assumption is that China‑bashing will sell compared to, say, a sober show discussing intricacies of the bilateral relations.”

Today, the significance of media in China and India is clear. The world’s two most populous countries, containing close to 40 per cent of the global population, have disputed boundaries and the legacy of a war in 1962 that India lost. Mass media in both countries play a pivotal role in domestic politics, and as part of that role, they may tell provocative nationalist stories. An Indian television editor explained in 2013: “The assumption is that China‑bashing will sell compared to, say, a sober show discussing intricacies of the bilateral relations.”

A survey in 2013 conducted by the Global Poll Center of the Global Times, one of China’s daily newspapers in English noted for its hard line positions on international affairs, found that “16.2 per cent of Chinese media’s reports on India have a positive perspective”; but “positive reporting on China only accounts for 4.2 per cent in the Indian media.” Indian outlets frequently used words like “provoke” and “aggression” when reporting on China.

The Global Times implied that Chinese media were positive and constructive; Indian media were sensational and war‑like. An Indian commentator responded that the Chinese were “unable to come to grips with the role of a free, market‑driven press” and were hoping “the tactics used to gag their own Party‑run media” might work in India: government should make media be nice.

Unflattering portrayal of one country by the other’s media has a history as long as newspapers. Ronojoy Sen’s survey in this book of the Times of India’s coverage of China from 1838, before the start of the first Opium War, to Nehru’s death in 1964 provides evidence. Media take their lead from governments, and the British‑owned Times of India defended Britain’s profitable force‑feeding of opium into China until well into the 20th century. After the paper passed into Indian hands in the middle of the 1940s, it usually reflected positions of the post-independence Indian government on the disputed borders with China. The media of the People’s Republic of China never deviated from the Party’s and government’s position on relations with India.

Informational ping‑pong between media of the two countries is a theme running through this book. When Jawaharlal Nehru died in 1964, the Times of India informed Indian readers that a Chinese newspaper’s obituary referred to Nehru as “a small clown on the international stage.” These media exchanges continue, and their audiences have grown. Hundreds of millions of citizens in both countries not only read the products of their still‑expanding newspaper industries but acquire mobile phones capable of connecting them to boundless sources of information. The potential for generating emotion through­out wide sections of both countries has never been greater.

The above excerpt is taken from the chapter, ‘Introduction: Media at Work — Four Sames and Three Differents’

Excerpted with permission from
Media at Work in China and India: Discovering and Dissecting

By Robin Jeffrey,
Visiting Research Professor, Institute of South Asian Studies, National University of Singapore

Ronojoy Sen,
Senior Research Fellow, Institute of South Asian Studies, Asia Research Institute, National University of Singapore

SAGE, India
ISBN: 9789351503002
396pp.

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, July 24th, 2016