Cut! Regulators at odds with censors

Ratih Kumala, a TV program scriptwriter, remembers how frustrated she was when the horror show her team had worked on received a warning letter from the KPI two years ago. This seemed unforgettably outrageous because the program had already passed LSF screening.

Everything was fine with the show as far as she was concerned. It contained no profanity, no pornography and no violence and it was aired after 10 p.m. But for the vigorous KPI, it was a big no-no. It was compelled to admonish the TV station because the program smacked of mysticism.

“Then we learned that visualizing devils and presenting mysticism were not allowed,” she said.

In fact, Ratih’s bewilderment is widely shared by people in the television industry. And it is symptomatic of the long-standing confusion resulting from the lack of clear-cut job descriptions on TV programs for the KPI and the much older LSF.

Don’t blink: A staff member monitors TV programs in the office of the Indonesian Broadcasting Commissions in Bandung, West Java. (JP/Arya Dipa)

The KPI and the LSF both oversee the content of programs aired by 15 Jakarta-based TV stations. Many well-off cities and provinces have their own TV stations and their oversight lies with the local offices of the KPI.

They are defined by different rules of the game and legal umbrellas. The LSF is in charge of checking content before the programs are broadcast while the KPI monitors it when aired and enforces regulations.

The LSF has evolved over the 100 years since it began as the Film Oversight Commission that the Dutch colonial administration set up in 1916. Originally, its job was to oversee films and advertisements before they were screened. When television made inroads, the government expanded the LSF’s job to include checking the content of all TV programs except news and live shows.

In the digital era of today, when technology accelerates film productions, the LSF remains short-staffed. Its core human resources consist of 16 employees and 32 staffers. Last year, 49,000 TV programs and big screen movies were checked by its censors.

The two institutions are often at odds about TV programs that draw public ire. This problem persists because they each have a different legal basis and different standard operating procedures. The LSF sets its standards based on Law No. 33/2009 on film. So it employs the very same guide in censoring both cinema movies and television shows.

Unfortunately, the KPI sticks to its Broadcasting Code of Conduct and Program Standards (P3SPS), which is more stringent than LSF’s censorship standards.

To narrow the disparity, the government issued Regulation No. 18/2014 on the LSF, which requires that censorship focuses on key aspects of violence, gambling, drug abuse, pornography, religion, the law, human dignity and audience age.

However, the regulation only provides the LSF with a broad guideline. On the subject of religion, for example, it only requires the board cut scenes deemed to mock a religion or “demean” it and its symbols.

Meanwhile, the P3SPS employs a more rigid regime. For example, it frowns upon the visualization of satanic beings – a rule that does not exist in the LSF regulations. And this may be an oddity for the non-religious because mysticism is very much a part of local tradition.

The KPI rules also oblige broadcasting companies to obtain a censorship pass from the LSF for the programs they broadcast. Adding to the complications, the pass does not always save TV stations from the broadcasting commission’s censorship, especially if a program attracts public criticism.

Aware of the tricky situation, the LSF has agreed to also adopt KPI’s official guideline when censoring TV programs. But still, some feel that LSF standards fail to satisfy the broadcasting oversight board, resulting in censorship and perpetuating mutual mistrust.

LSF spokesperson Rommy Fibri said the KPI should make sure that it does not punish TV stations for screening programs that censors had previously passed.

But in reality, TV stations find the KPI too powerful to ignore. Whenever their programs are regarded as being off the mark, they cannot hide behind the LSF’s pass label because the law also requires them to do further self-censorship. Unfortunately, TV stations have no standard guidelines and so play it safe to avoid LSF sanctions. Then, the KPI has a “no compromise” policy when dealing with programs it deems improper.

The KPI wields much wider power than simply imposing administrative sanctions, such as issuing warning letters, but can also cut programs’ running time, impose fines, suspend shows and even revoke broadcasting permits.

A slashed program duration deals a serious blow to a TV station because it cuts its revenue from commercials and imperils its business contracts.

Kelly Charenina, the associate producer of Trans TV’s production division, said her team would rather cancel a program if the risk was too high. “A warning letter would mean that our supervisor gives us a poor score card.”

The fear is so great that TV stations and production houses have opted to re-censor programs that the LSF has already passed. This self-censorship is often so amusingly or outrageously excessive that it annoyingly spoils the aesthetics and kills the audience's appetite.

The paranoia brought about by the KPI’s uncompromising stance against recalcitrant TV stations is obvious. In recent years, self-censorship has gone far beyond public understanding.

One of the most famous cases in point is the hilarious censorship involving the female squirrel in Spongebob named Sandy (Did you see that?).

Because Sandy lives on land, she wears a bikini when she visits the Bikini Bottom. Apparently for fear that the image of a scantily dressed Sandy would be too hot for some people to watch, the TV station blurred her chest. A snapshot of the poor pretty squirrel in an obscured purple bikini went viral on social media in 2015.

TV censors have continued to amuse the public. Last year, another viral snapshot featured a boy learning to milk a cow, with the gentle animal having its udders blurred too.

In the latest show of excessive fear of KPI sanctions, TV censors targeted the cleavage of swimming athletes in their internationally standardized suits and finalists of a Jakarta beauty pageant wearing kebaya (traditional blouses).

Many initially thought the funny censorship was done by the KPI. Commissioner Hardly Pariela admitted that the KPI’s past leadership may have pushed TV stations too hard to practice self-censorship. Under the present leadership, which took over last year, the KPI means to provide more room for dialogue with broadcasters and production houses.

“They [past KPI leadership] may have been too rigid in enforcing rules and caused excessive fear. Now, we’re open to discussion.”

KPI statistics show that in 2015, the commission issued 228 warning letters. Of those, 34 were second warnings. It suspended five programs that year. The number of warnings dropped in 2016 to 157, with second warning letters decreasing to 14 and program suspensions to four.

Remotivi, a TV watchdog, believes that the mother of all the censorship chaos is the KPI’s P3SPS, which it says has ambiguous provisions and prescribes indiscriminate censorship disregarding context.

On sexuality, for instance, the regulation specifies human body parts that television stations may not “show” or “exploit”-- thighs, buttocks and breasts --- but the particular provisions lack explanations on whether the restrictions can be exempt under certain circumstances.

“To show” and “to exploit” have different meanings, Remotivi director Muhamad Heychael said.

All the stakeholders, including the KPI and the LSF, acknowledge the complexity of censorship because it involves subjective judgments on a wide range of issues, such as sexuality, violence and morality.

Heychael said censorship mostly concerned sexuality. Remotivi has teamed up with the National Commission on Violence Against Women (Komnas Perempuan) to study KPI warnings. They found the 110 sanctions that the KPI imposed on TV stations for various violations, 70, or 64 percent, of those were related to sexuality.

No more poisonous programs: A woman signs a poster in a campaign to stop the broadcast of uninformed TV programs that may harm children.(Antara/Nova Wahyudi)

However, despite the inflexible control by the two institutions, the quality of our television programs still falls short of public expectations. In its 2016 survey on program quality at five stations, the KPI found that only one was on par with its minimum standards, which was a program on tourism and culture.

On a scale of one to five, a TV program would qualify as “good” if it scored at least four. The sole good program scored 4.15. Albeit popular, variety shows and soap operas only scored 3.04 and 2.96, respectively, because of the violence element, both physical and verbal.

The grim indicator makes the effectiveness of censorship and KPI’s aggressive actions against ”non-compliant” stations questionable.

Puji Rianto, a communications expert from the Indonesian Islamic University (UII), sees the measures as endangerment of the freedom of expression. “Violence among children and sexual abuse remain rampant [in real life],” he said.

He would rather see the LSF disbanded and the funding redirected for the education of parents and children on media literacy.

“TV needs monitoring because it works in the public domain, but let the KPI do that and media workers can conduct self-censorship with proper guidance,” he said.

But some hold onto the hope for a better future, with both the KPI and the LSF coexisting side by side. Kelly, for one, envisions the two working together when it comes to policy-making.

“We program producers are compelled to forever race against time. Being watched by two institutions that have different standards is uncomfortable,” she said.

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Making a point: Communications and Information Minister Rudiantara (right) speaks in front of lawmakers while Indonesian Broadcasting Commission chairman Yuliandre Darwis looks on (Antara/Puspa Perwitasari)

Lack of will to depoliticize commission

If you happen to visit the Jakarta State Administrative Court these days, chances are you will bump into the legal team of the Indonesian Broadcasting Commission (KPI) dealing with a legal challenge.

The lawyers are representing the KPI in a legal battle against two new little-known political parties, the Working Party and the Indonesian Employers and Employees Party, which have challenged its ban on political advertisements on TV outside the campaign season.

The ban came after the KPI issued warning letters in May to television stations under the MNC Group for advertising the newly launched United Indonesia Party (Perindo) founded by media tycoon Hary Tanoesoedibjo – the MNC owner.

The KPI insisted that the promotions broadcast daily on RCTI, Global TV, MNC TV and iNewsTV, violated the broadcasting code of ethics and program guidelines.

“They [the stations] claimed that it was purely business because the party paid the TV channels for airing the ads. But we don’t buy their claim because we know they aren’t aimed at persuading people to buy a product but to vote for a political party that will run for office,” KPI commissioner Hardly Pariela said.

Another reason for the ban was that broadcasting the ads would be unfair to small parties that did not have the financial means to advertise.

Understandably, as the most powerful medium in influencing people, many members of Indonesia’s political elite have turned to television to build their image. Thus, most TV stations are owned by business tycoons cum politicians. Surya Paloh, the founder of the National Democratic Party (Nasdem) owns Media Group (Metro TV); and Golkar Party advisory board chief Aburizal Bakrie owns PT Visi Media Asia (TVOne, ANTV). Besides owning television channels, they also have online and print media outlets.

In view of the political overtones, KPI commissioners – who are selected by the House of Representatives – are forever in the hot seat. Their backgrounds always come under public scrutiny and their independence as the guardian of public frequencies is closely watched.

Numbers speak: The founder of TV station Net Mediatama, Wishnutama Kusubandio, speaks during a recent discussion on TV ratings in Jakarta. (Antara/Indrianto Eko Suwarso)

Critics and media watchdogs are watchful about who in the KPI represents which political party or TV station owner.

All this happens despite the KPI Law, which requires that commissioners be non-partisan – a prerequisite that also applies to all independent bodies such as the National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM) and the General Elections Commission (KPU). Candidates for a post are only eligible if they are no longer associated with any political party, government institution or media organization.

But in practice, this provision is hard to enforce because one need not be a registered member to favor such an organization. The political overtones are very apparent during the selection process by House lawmakers.

Commissioner Hardly is a good example to illustrate this situation. Formerly, he was a member of the Public Service Commission in East Java and a functionary with the National Committee of Indonesian Youth (KNPI), which used to affiliate with the Golkar Party. Hardly’s fellow commissioner Nuning Rodiyah was also a KNPI activist.

But all eyes have also been on commissioner Mahyong Suryo Laksono, the husband of Golkar politician Nurul Arifin.

Hardly dismisses such criticism. “The House is a political institution so it’s only natural that the selection of KPI members is touched by political nuance.” But he vehemently denies that the KPI is a tool of political parties.

Before taking part in confirmation hearings in the House, candidates have to undertake a series of technical and competence tests administered by the Communications and Information Ministry.

The main reason legislators engage in the recruitment process is to make sure that only candidates who are able to properly communicate with lawmakers get the posts. “Lawmakers may make suggestions but they can’t dictate to us what to do,” says Hardly.

Lawmaker Dave Laksono from the Golkar Party insists that although commissioners are selected by legislators, their performance and independence are under constant public scrutiny once they are elected. “Their performance and competence are there for everyone to see.”

Communication expert Puji Rianto from the Indonesian Islamic University (UII) says the recruitment pattern, in which House legislators have the decisive say, ensures that the candidates are required to have some kind of loyalty to the political parties that select them.

“Because it is political factions [in the House] that have the final say, candidates are required to have an additional skill in lobbying legislators in order to pass the hearings,” he says.

A note for KPI: Activists holds a rally demanding the Indonesian Broadcasting Commission impose heavy sanctions on TV station owners who use the medium for their own political interests. (JP/Wendra Ajistyatama)

As the 2019 general election draws near, the issues surrounding TV ownership and political affiliation are expected to resurface once again. The KPI will have a hard time making sure that TV stations do not misuse their public frequencies.

In the 2014 presidential election, the media watchdog Remotivi drew up a petition at change.org demanding the KPI punish TV stations that promoted their owners running for the nation’s top jobs.

At the time Aburizal Bakrie capitalized on his TVOne and ANTV; Surya Paloh and Nasdem Party campaigned on Metro TV; while RCTI, MNC TV, and Global TV bombarded their audiences with the candidacies of Wiranto and Hary, who then both led Hanura.

The state-owned television TVRI came under fire for helping another camp that consisted of the Democratic Party, National Mandate Party (PAN) and Golkar.

Puji acknowledges he has no idea how to improve the commissioner-selection system as long as politics remains the core of the problem.