Using Billions
in Government Cash, Mexico Controls News Media
MEXICO
CITY — Running a newspaper, radio station or television outlet in Mexico
usually means relying on a single, powerful client that spends exorbitant sums
on advertising with a simple warning: “I do not pay you to criticize me.”
That client is the
government of Mexico.
President Enrique Peña
Nieto’s administration has spent hundreds of millions of dollars a year in
government money on advertising, creating what many Mexican media owners,
executives and journalists call a presidential branding juggernaut capable of
suppressing investigative articles, directing front pages and intimidating
newsrooms that challenge it.
Despite vowing to regulate
government publicity, Mr. Peña Nieto has spent more money on media advertising
than any other president in Mexico’s history — nearly $2 billion in the past
five years, according to government data compiled by Fundar, a transparency
group. It found that his administration spent more than twice the generous
media budget Mexican lawmakers allotted it for 2016 alone.
And that is just the
federal money.
Leaders from all parties
marshal hundreds of millions of dollars in state money for advertising each
year, money they dole out to favored news outlets, Fundar calculated. According
to the executives and editors involved in the negotiations, some government
press secretaries openly demand positive coverage from news organizations
before signing an advertising contract.
The
result is a media landscape across Mexico in which federal and state officials
routinely dictate the news, telling outlets what they should — and should not —
report, according to dozens of interviews with executives, editors and
reporters. Hard-hitting stories are often softened, squashed or put off
indefinitely, if they get reported at all. Two-thirds of Mexican journalists
admit to censoring themselves.
“If a professional reporter wants to cover the dirty elements of
what is happening in the country today, neither the government nor private
companies will give them a penny,” said Enrique Krauze, a historian who edits
Letras Libres, a Mexican magazine that receives some government money. “This is
one of the biggest flaws in Mexican democracy.”
Mr.
Peña Nieto’s Institutional Revolutionary Party, also known as the PRI,
pioneered this system during its 70 years in power. Former President José López
Portillo explicitly laid out the government’s expectations decades ago — he was
even quoted as saying that he did not pay the media to attack him — and the
practice continued when the opposition claimed the presidency in 2000, then
again in 2006.
But the government’s
influence over the media goes well beyond the advertising spigot, with
officials sometimes resorting to outright bribery. In Chihuahua, the former
governor spent more than $50 million on publicity, officials say, in a state
saddled with huge public debts. Yet that was just the official figure.
Prosecutors have also
collected signed receipts for bribes to local journalists — payoffs so common
that some reporters were even listed as government contractors, documents show.
With so much government money circling around, entire news websites sprang up
with a single purpose, prosecutors contend: to support the former governor’s
agenda.
“The relation between the
media and power is one of the gravest problems in Mexico,” said Javier Corral,
the new governor of Chihuahua. “There is collusion, an arrangement, in terms of
how the public resources are managed to reward or punish the media. It’s carrot
and stick: ‘Behave well, and I’ll give you lots of money and advertising. Act
bad and I’ll get rid of it.’”
Reliance on Public Advertising
Pick up a newspaper, tune into a radio station or flip on the
television in Mexico and you are greeted with a barrage of government
advertising. In some papers, nearly every other page is claimed by an ad
promoting one government agency or another. At times, as much airtime is
dedicated to venerating the government’s work as it is to covering the news.
The extraordinary spending
comes at a time when the Mexican government is cutting budgets across the
board, including for health, education and social services. The federal
government spent as much on advertising last year, about $500 million, as it
did to support students in its main scholarship program for public
universities.
The
co-opting of the news media is more fundamental than any one administration’s
spending on self-promotion, historians say. It reflects the absence of the
basic pact that a free press has with its readers in a democracy, where holding
the powerful accountable is part of its mission.
“It’s a common problem in
the developing world, but the problem is much, much graver in Mexico,” said
David Kaye, the United Nations special representative for freedom of
expression. “It’s remarkable what the government spends.”
Most news outlets have
relied on public advertising for so long that they would not survive without
the government, giving officials tremendous leverage to push for certain
stories and prevent others, analysts, reporters and media owners say.
“This is an economic
problem,” said Carlos Puig, a columnist at the newspaper Milenio, which
receives substantial government funding. “The classic American model does not
exist here.”
Last year, a public outcry
erupted after a top official in the Peña Nieto administration went to Milenio’s
offices to complain about a story. The article, criticizing a national
anti-hunger initiative, was taken down from the newspaper’s website right after
the visit.
The piece later went back
up, with a far less damning headline. The newspaper says the reason was simple:
The article was “deplorable,” an inaccurate and “vulgar” attempt to smear an
official, requiring an apology to readers. But journalists and democracy
advocates, citing the power of government advertising, cried foul and the
reporter resigned in protest, claiming to have been censored. Eventually, the
original headline was restored.
Overt government
interference is often unnecessary. Sixty-eight percent of journalists in Mexico
said they censored themselves, not only to avoid being killed, but also because of
pressure from advertisers and the impact on the company’s bottom line,
according to a three-year studyby researchers at the
Ibero-American University in Mexico City and the University of Miami.
Francisco Pazos did. He worked for years at one of the largest
papers in Mexico, Excélsior. One of his most frustrating moments came in late
2013, he said, when the government was in the throes of a fight with commuters
over a transit fare increase.
Mr.
Pazos said he tried to explore the commuters’ anger in detail, until an editor
stopped him, telling him the paper was no longer going to cover the
controversy.
“I came to understand there
were issues I simply couldn’t cover,” Mr. Pazos said. “And eventually, I
stopped looking for those kinds of stories. Eventually, you become a part of
the censorship yourself.”
Many media owners and
directors say they have so few independent sources of income outside the
government that they face a stark choice: wither from a lack of resources, or
survive as accomplices to their own manipulation.
“Of course, the use of
public money limits freedom of expression, but without this public money there
would be no media in Mexico at all,” said Marco Levario, the director of the
magazine Etcétera. “We are all complicit in this.”
The model means that some
media outlets in Mexico can scarcely afford their own principles. Twenty years
ago, the newspaper La Jornada was one of the most beloved in the nation, a
critical voice and a must-read for intellectuals and activists who carried the
tabloid around town, tucked under their arms.
But the years have not been
kind to the paper. A few years ago, it was on the cusp of financial ruin. Then
the government intervened, rescuing the publication with more than $1 million
in official advertising and, critics say, claiming its editorial independence
in the process.
“Now they own them,” Mr.
Levario said. “The paper has been like a spokesman for the president.”
Other business ties link
news outlets to the government. Many media companies are part of larger
conglomerates that build roads or other public projects. The same person who
owns Grupo Imagen, which includes radio, television and print media, also owns
a major construction firm, Prodemex. It has earned more than $200 million in
the past five years building government facilities, and will play a role in the
construction of the new Mexico City airport.
La
Jornada, Excélsior and Excélsior’s parent company, Grupo Imagen, did not
respond to repeated requests for comment.
The nation’s Supreme Court
recently took up the issue of official advertising, ruling in November that the
government must act on the president’s promise to regulate the flow of public
money in an unbiased way.
“The absence of regulation
in official publicity allows for the arbitrary use of communications budgets,
which restricts indirectly freedom of expression,” said Arturo Zaldívar, a
Supreme Court justice.
In a statement, the
president’s office referred to its official advertising as a form of
constitutionally backed publicity that enables it to inform and educate the
public about its work. But it rejects the assertion that such spending skews
the media’s coverage of important issues or stifles free speech in any way.
“Every day journalists in
Mexico question, with absolute freedom, the government’s actions and those of
our representatives, including the president,” it said. “There is a permanent
criticism from Mexican journalists toward the government. Just by opening any
newspaper, turning on the television and going to social media, you can verify
this.”
When he came to office in
2012, the president vowed to more fairly distribute the government’s advertising
dollars. Shortly after his election, Mr. Peña Nieto’s team came up with a plan
to regulate media spending, according to three people familiar with the
proposal.
But Aurelio Nuño, the
president’s former chief of staff, said the effort never got far enough to
produce a draft of any legislation that could yield action. The effort was
subsumed by other campaign promises and left behind, he said.
‘Heating Them Up’
As the editor for recruiting at the newspaper Reforma, Diana
Alvarez has grown accustomed to the flexible definition of journalism in
Mexico.
A
few years back, she said, she interviewed one young woman from a large paper in
Mexico City. The woman, who had a master’s degree in journalism, said her job
at the paper consisted of creating files of negative press clippings on
governors across the country.
Those files were turned
over to the paper’s sales department, which then approached the governors to
sell them “coverage plans” to improve their public image, the young woman
explained.
Mrs. Alvarez rattled off
more examples. One applicant, an editing candidate, boasted that he knew how to
work his relationships with politicians to score more advertising money.
He called it “heating them
up,” which involved showing the target a critical story that his newspaper was
planning to publish. Then, as he explained to Mrs. Alvarez, an advertising contract
with his paper would help “put out the fire.”
Yet another applicant, a
former state government employee, said he knew how to “deal with the press,”
Mrs. Alvarez recalled. He told her how he had been in charge of distributing
envelopes filled with cash for reporters as bribes.
“I wish I could say these
are isolated cases, or just a few, but it isn’t the case,” Mrs. Alvarez said.
“There have been many like these, where they come and speak about these
practices in a way that makes you realize they have normalized them.”
Daniel Moreno, the director
of the digital publication Animal Político, says he receives almost nothing
from the federal government, and relatively small amounts from state governors.
It’s not because he doesn’t want the money, Mr. Moreno says.
It’s just that the kind of critical coverage his news team does is not rewarded
with government contracts, he contends.
Recently, Mr. Moreno said
he received a call from officials in the state of Morelos, which spends about
$3,000 a month with him on advertising. The governor’s wife was going through a
rough period over claims that she was politicizing aid for earthquake victims —
an accusation she rejected — so a state official suggested that Animal Político
do a few positive stories on her.
Mr.
Moreno politely declined.
“They were pretty
offended,” he said with a shrug. “And I’m pretty sure that money is gone.”
Still, that was better than
it is with most states, Mr. Moreno said. As a policy, Animal Político publishes
a banner on pieces that are paid advertising, so readers know the work is not
independent journalism, he said.
But officials in the states
of Chiapas, Oaxaca and Sonora have refused to pay for content unless it is
published without the banner, he said. Mr. Moreno refused.
“I’ve lost more money than
I’ve earned that way,” he said with a laugh.
This month, news
organizations came together to denounce the violence against the press in
Mexico, where the murders of journalists hit a record this year.
Thirty-nine media groups signed on.
But a few, including Animal
Político, were missing — on purpose. They had insisted on some extra lines in
the announcement about the damage that official publicity does to free speech.
A small uproar ensued, they
said. Some large newspapers that rely heavily on government money objected.
Ultimately, the letter was
sent without the lines — and without the signature of Mr. Moreno and his
compatriots. The news media, it appeared, would not challenge its livelihood.
An Exposé Raises Questions
On Aug. 23, Ricardo Anaya, the president of the opposition
National Action Party and now a candidate for president in next year’s
election, woke up to find his name and family splashed across the front page of
El Universal, a major newspaper.
The
story went into details about his father-in-law’s real estate empire and, more
pointedly, the ways in which Mr. Anaya’s political career had helped propel
that fortune.
The narrative was a
familiar one in Mexico: A political leader had used his influence to enrich
himself and his family. El Universal laid out the addresses and values of the
various properties, and even published head shots of his entire extended
family, 14 people in all. News outlets across the country carried the story.
The only thing missing, a
court ultimately decided, was accuracy. Mr. Anaya managed to show that much of
the information was flawed, skewed or simply wrong. While his in-laws clearly
owned a number of properties, many had been in their possession before his
political career began, public deeds showed.
Even more puzzling, Mr.
Anaya said, were the photographs of his family. They had not been public before,
as far as the family knew. In fact, they looked an awful lot like passport
pictures.
Given that such photos were
held by the foreign ministry, which issues passports, Mr. Anaya suspected that
his rivals in the government had leaked the pictures to the newspaper.
“They are trying to destroy
my political career with this campaign,” he contended. “You can’t compete with
a government that pays $500 million a year to the media.”
For the next two months,
the newspaper dedicated more than 20 front pages to Mr. Anaya, accusing him of
misusing public funds, benefiting financially from his position and fracturing
his party.
Mr. Anaya filed suit. In
October, the court found that El Universal had misrepresented his in-laws’
wealth and wrongly accused Mr. Anaya of using his office to benefit them.
El
Universal claimed that it was entitled to publish the story under the right to
freedom of expression, an argument the judge questioned because the paper “had
not based its investigation in facts.” The newspaper has appealed the court’s
decision.
The case raises national
questions of trust in a country where the news media receives so much money in
government advertising.
El Universal receives more
government advertising than any other newspaper in the nation, about $10 million
last year, Fundar found. Critics argue that the newspaper has become something
of an attack dog for the government ahead of presidential elections next year.
The suggestion is “false
and offensive,” the newspaper says. Government advertising “does not affect in
any way the editorial line of the newspaper,” it says, adding that “thinkers of
all political parties” are represented in its pages.
Not all its journalists
agree. In July, a half-dozen columnists announced their resignations in protest
over what they called biased coverage, saying the owners had destroyed the
institution’s credibility.
Salvador Frausto, an investigative editor who earned the paper
many awards, also left. Colleagues said he was clearly uncomfortable with how
close the paper was becoming to the PRI and its new presidential candidate,
José Antonio Meade.
The person who replaced Mr.
Frausto as the new investigative editor was most recently a press officer at
the foreign affairs ministry, according to his LinkedIn profile.
And the news director of El
Universal had close ties with the new candidate: His wife was Mr. Meade’s
international press chief at the finance ministry.
The
paper says that there is no conflict of interest, and that it does not tolerate
biased coverage of any kind.
But it isn’t the first time
the paper’s journalists have challenged its independence. Writers said that in
2012, when Mr. Peña Nieto was running for office, editors and news directors
began changing columns critical of the candidate, sometimes at the last minute,
without warning them.
“The reason I resigned is
because I no longer felt like I was guaranteed a free space,” Andrés Lajous,
now a doctoral student at Princeton University, wrote in an article recounting
the events.
‘It Was the Feds’
Witnesses were calling it an execution.
In January 2015, Laura
Castellanos, an award-winning reporter, was sent by editors at El Universal to
cover a pair of shootouts involving the federal police.
At the time, self-defense
groups had taken up arms to fight against organized crime, and Ms. Castellanos,
who had written extensively on the subject, was considered an expert.
She spent 10 days reporting
the story, tapping old sources and interviewing witnesses in the state of
Michoacán, where 16 had been killed and dozens wounded.
The issue was especially
delicate because a close ally of the president, Alfredo Castillo, who had been
appointed to oversee the security situation in Michoacán, claimed that the
deaths came from a shootout with armed assailants.
Ms. Castellanos said she
recorded interviews with 39 people — victims, bystanders, hospital workers —
and came to a different conclusion. The federal police had summarily executed
unarmed suspects, including some as they surrendered on their knees with their
arms in the air, she said her reporting showed.
After
days of editing and fact-checking, she said the story was ready to run. Only it
didn’t.
Ms. Castellanos and her
editors were not surprised. Mr. Peña Nieto was already under heavy public
pressure for his handling of the disappearance of 43 college students, as well
as his wife’s purchase of a multimillion-dollar home from a major government
contractor.
But after two and a half
months — during which time one of her sources was tortured and killed, she said
— Ms. Castellanos worried her story would never run.
Working with lawyers, she
said she discovered a loophole in her contract — one that allowed her to
publish the material elsewhere.
One of the few publications
willing to take the story was a new website founded by Carmen Aristegui,
another award-winning reporter, who had lost her radio station job after
breaking the story about the president’s wife.
But the morning the Michoacán story was scheduled to publish,
under the headline “It Was the Feds,” Ms. Aristegui’s website went dark.
Eventually, they figured
out what happened: The website had been hacked.
The two eventually
published the story, but the case again raised questions about
independence in a country awash in government advertising.
Neither the killings, nor
the hacking, have been fully resolved. El Universal said it had not published
Ms. Castellanos’s story because it did not meet the newspaper’s standards.
The next year, Ms.
Castellano’s article was awarded Mexico’s most coveted journalistic prize: the
national award for investigative reporting.
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