Yap’s daily interventions at the paper seem to have two objectives: to use the Bulletin as a jump-off point to social prominence and as a springboard for protecting and advancing his business interests. On the front pages of the paper, he has tried to project his “philanthropy” and role as leader of the Chinese-Filipino community. More than self-promotion, the Bulletin has also been used against some of Yap’s enemies, including former Central Bank governor Jose ‘Jobo’ Fernandez, who turned down a request from Yap’s Philippine Trust Co. to set up a bank branch in a commercial district in Metro Manila. “Yap really got mad, so we bannered all the bad reports about Jobo, while the positive stories were never printed,” recalls an editor.

In stark contrast to this is the way the Bulletin treats the courts, particularly the Supreme Court. It is the only paper that highlights appointments to, and retirements from, the high courts, and the only one to run lengthy defenses of justices accused of wrongdoing. “The courts are the closest to Yap’s heart because of his many lawsuits,” says an editor. “He is still uncertain about the future of his company and he believes that the courts will decide his fate.” Part of the uncertainty stems from the still unsettled claims of Eduardo Cojuangco and of Ferdinand ‘Bongbong’ Marcos Jr. on a significant chunk of Bulletin shares.

For this reason, the Bulletin always toes the line of whichever government is in power. “Whoever comes into office in Malacañang is assured the Bulletin won’t be a problem,” says an editor. The paper quickly made a shift from supporting Marcos to endorsing Aquino in 1986. Although Yap supported Miriam Defensor-Santiago in the 1992 election campaign and used the paper to run daily stories favorable to her, the Bulletin quickly shifted support to Ramos when he was elected. It has taken a similar stance toward the new incumbent, Estrada. Thus, except when Yap is lashing out at his enemies, as in the Manila Hotel bidding, the Bulletin is a profoundly conservative and uncontroversial paper.

Although like Yap, they are ethnic Chinese, the Gokongweis have generally taken a hands-off policy at the Times. The difference is partly generational: Robina Gokongwei took over the helm of the paper in 1989, when she was only 28 years old, while Yap is now in his 70s. Having graduated from a U.S. journalism school, Gokongwei also has a better grasp of the liberal notion of the newspaper as watchdog and part of the Fourth Estate. Her family’s business and political philosophy, however, is essentially conservative and her wealthy clan has an aversion to controversy.

The Times newsroom is therefore the arena of contention between these conflicting world views, as well as constant clashes between the family and their liberal-minded and activist editors, who have given the paper a reputation for being critical and hard-hitting. The editors prevailed in 1995, when the paper was preparing to run a special report on questionable expenses incurred by the Office of the House Speaker. When then Speaker Jose de Venecia got wind of the article, he tried to stop its publication, calling the family patriarch John Gokongwei, his wife and several of his children to ask that the articles not be published.

The family was divided. John Gokongwei himself did not want to displease the Speaker, who had begun hinting of past favors. The Gokongwei daughters, however, put up a fight. The editors were also adamant, fearful that if they gave in to this request, it would open the floodgate to similar demands. In the end, the editors—and the daughters—won.

They were not as successful last March, when Robina Gokongwei-Pe, apparently on orders from her father, wrote the front-page apology to Estrada. But Times editor-in-chief Malou Mangahas (who is a founder of PCIJ, the publisher of this magazine, and a member of its board) sees the editor-proprietor relationship as a continuing struggle, and considers that with some battles won and some lost, the editors’ odds of winning are fairly even.

EDITORS ARE AT THE FRONTLINE OF THE BATTLE AGAINST
interventionist publishers. Certainly, one reason why the Inquirer has kept its independence is that its editors have jealously guarded their prerogatives. Moreover, its owners know that the paper is profitable because it is hard-hitting and that it risks losing its market if it is perceived to be losing its critical edge. At the same time, the business interests of the Prieto family, which owns two-thirds of the paper, are much less spread out and less vulnerable to government regulation than the Gokongweis’.

To its credit, the paper has printed stories alleging pollution by a Prieto-owned firm. But it has also been less than critical of a key stockholder of the paper, former banker and current Finance Secretary Edgardo Espiritu, who owns about a third of the Inquirer’s shares. When other papers were highlighting charges made by Senator Sergio Osmeña III against Espiritu during the congressional confirmation hearings, the Inquirer was noticeably circumspect. Still, despite this, the paper has not exactly handled Espiritu’s boss, Estrada, with kid gloves. Thus, critics say, the problem with the paper is not owner meddling but a tendency to shoot from the hip and to sensationalize stories.

The Inquirer’s strength is that it is the country’s biggest paper, and politicians are wary about being perceived as intervening in its affairs for fear of being accused of muzzling the press. The smaller newspapers are generally more vulnerable to outside intervention because they have less clout. But the news pages of even a big paper like the Star, whose circulation ranks third after the Inquirer and the Bulletin, are sometimes cautious because its main owner, the Go family, is itself wary of making too many enemies, whether from the private sector or the government. If it is true, though, that the controversial beer and cigarette tycoon Lucio Tan is a secret shareholder of the paper, then the Star’s defense of Tan on its editorial and news pages and its generally flattering reporting about the tycoon can be said to be due to proprietorial intervention.

To be sure, there are other problems hobbling the press: insufficient skills, the pervasiveness of “checkbook” journalism, intense competition and the lack of editorial supervision. All these combine to produce sloppy reporting. The generally low pay of journalists and the dearth of logistical support for thorough research and reporting contribute to the mediocrity of Philippine newspapers.

The structure of newspaper ownership adds to these problems and is partly responsible for the inability of some newspapers to rise above the interests of their proprietors. The problem is that no clear alternatives exist as far as ownership is concerned. The history of newspaper cooperatives in the Philippines is one of failure. In the meantime, press proprietors are not likely to give up control of their papers to allow journalists and citizens to be shareholders of newspapers.

Legislation that would open up press ownership is a possibility but that has so far not been tried, and it is unlikely that Congress would make a law that would upset the powerful lords of the press. To begin with, newspapers should be required to disclose their owners’ interests in companies they are reporting on. Had it done so in its story on the power deal, perhaps the Times would have been spared later insinuations that the article’s allegations had more to do with the business interests of its taipan-owner rather than with solid reporting.