Bangkok and New York fought a media war with no winner

By Justin Heifetz-May 07, 2015

More than three weeks hav e passed since 2,774 of my words were published in the Columbia Journalism Review (CJR), my attempt at finally sharing the painful experience of being stifled by editors during a rocky stint at the Bangkok Post.

The goal of the story was seizing an opportunity to push back against the Thai media system, where the threat of defamation continues to loom menacingly for reporters. Ironically — by writing this piece on it — I’d relive my trauma all over again, instead of fighting a successful battle against the Thai media for biased reporting.

Now in Beijing, I find myself wondering what comes next following the very public spat. The reality is that I didn’t even make a dent in improving the Thai media system.

I left Thailand just over a year ago, after my reporting led to a dangerous brush with defaming the navy in February 2014. Contrary to my gut, I decided to endure the resulting friction and try to wait it out. Nothing good came of hoping for resolution. It marked the start of some 60 days of insomnia that ultimately led to a breakdown. All I accomplished were five pieces, the result of my last efforts reporting for the Post on the Sunday edition’s investigative news section.

I landed back in America in early April last year. On a whim, I went to Washington, D.C., because a couple of my best friends lived there. I wrote pharmaceutical news and then eventually got a job with Gallup. It was my first time back stateside since graduating college.

In March this year, while preparing for a move to China, I finally found my voice to tell the story of what happened in Thailand. It would be a narrative of how I irritated the wrong rear admiral while reporting a story for a newspaper known for employing foreign reporters, then recycling them when they inevitably stepped on a land mine.

I made a stupid mistake, though. In my recounting, some facts — completely irrelevant to the thrust of the story — were dead wrong. I said that the Post was the largest-circulating English daily in Southeast Asia. It is not. I was also wrong that all defamation charges in Thailand are treated as criminal, because some — in rare instances — are civil.

The Post wrote a scathing rebuttal to my piece, and used these errors to allege that I fabricated nearly everything. I had to subsequently prove where I was and why I had been there.

After recounting myriad situations and furnishing as much material proof as I had, the story finally stuck — granted, with factual errors.

In this situation, I don’t see any winners. I accused the Post of perpetuating a cycle of silence through fear. It accused me of being a bad reporter.

Either way, we’re at loggerheads and that doesn’t catalyze change.

And I ask again, what comes next? My biggest worry is that the piece I wrote simply caused temporary upset — stomachs turning, eyes rolling. I can’t answer this question, now. I hope that self-discovery comes with age; I hope that every barb makes thicker skin.

After the CJR’s investigation, it became abundantly clear that it is — unequivocally — against Thai law to hire non-nationals as editors. The Post hasn’t answered why it hired me with paperwork for the Thai Ministry of Foreign Affairs stating I would be a “sub-editor” on the “General News Desk”, but allowed me to be the main English reporter for the Sunday.

In my response to the Post’s allegations, I asked about employee retention on the Sunday. Two other reporters, both Thai, left the section at about the same time I did. Out of the original reporting team I began with, only one remains.

Yet, there has been no answer to the staffing tumult on the Sunday. It is woefully unclear as to whether it’s a coincidence — or, if it’s because the section pushes the envelope with investigative news.

A new Freedom House report released at the end of April showed that Thailand, along with Libya, had the biggest press freedom decline in 2014 – far eclipsing South Sudan and Egypt.

But here, in Beijing, I’m learning to let it go. This is the pain and detachment that comes with surrender. And while I come to grips with the fact I couldn’t make change – a salvo intercepted at the very last second – I can only hope someone else learns from my mistakes, and can.

Justin Heifetz is a Beijing-based journalist.