[news] Time Magazine: A Scandal Sheet with the Ring of Authority

[AnHai Doan <anhai@cs.washington.edu>]

JUNE 2, 1997 VOL.149 NO.22
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ASIA

A Scandal Sheet with the Ring of Authority

BY TIM LARIMER
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Many a famous journalist has cut his teeth as a police reporter--one of
those intrepid scribes who hang around the station house and satisfy
readers' appetites for stories of scandal, mayhem and murder. But in Ho Chi
Minh City the most avidly read newspaper has achieved its popularity and
authenticity by cutting out the middle man: the police reporters are the
police themselves. Every Tuesday morning, news junkies queue up at vendors
for a chance to read lurid tales under such headlines as ADDRESS OF DEATH,
WIDOW WOMAN IN BLACK and MOBILE VIDEO SEX SHOPS. All that and more can be
found in Cong An (Police), a weekly newspaper, which is written and
published by officers of the city's branch of the Interior Ministry,
Vietnam's powerful security apparatus. No sooner are the bad guys in jail
than their captors tell the story. Who, after all, is in a better position
to get the elusive exclusive?

While the serious-minded dismiss Cong An as a scandal sheet, it is the
best-selling (circulation 550,000) of Vietnam's 449 publications. In
contrast, stodgy Nhan Dan (The People), the periodical of the Communist
Party, sells just 160,000 copies, even though cadres are required to buy it.
Cong An appeals first and foremost to the proletariat: laborers, pedicab
drivers and street vendors who can afford the price (about 10A). The paper
uses simple language, street talk and juicy details to make even the most
mundane crimes seem fascinating, or at least diverting. The well-educated
confess that they, too, are hooked. Says one government economist who
requests anonymity: "I wait all week to read the next issue."

Started in 1976, Cong An was initially an in-house organ used to motivate
cops who faced a hostile population after the communist takeover of Saigon.
Later, when officers recited crime reports at neighborhood meetings, people
began asking for copies, and an idea was born. The paper was first sold to
the public in 1986, as the nation's economic reforms began.

Today, the 12-page tabloid, sold nationwide, is still graphically drab. But
its content packs a punch. It runs a crime log (with everything from wallet
snatchings to knife fights), letters (one reader thanked police for helping
him catch his wife and her lover in the act) and a regular dose of news
about drug rings, prostitution and corruption. Other newspapers have begun
to mimic the formula, but they can't match Cong An's gritty view from the
inside. Says the 46-year-old managing editor, Tu Ke Tuong: "Readers trust
our crime stories more because they result from real investigations." Cong
An also gains credibility by not selling advertisements. Since some
newspapers routinely ask businesses to buy ads in exchange for positive
coverage, Tuong doesn't want people to think the police are extracting
bribes through ad sales.

It's a wise policy, for the police are generally despised, which makes Cong
An's popularity all the more striking. Tuong explains the contradiction this
way: "Because we have intervened in a large number of problems, gradually
people consider the newspaper not one of the police, but one of themselves."
One story led to the downfall of an official who extorted payoffs. Boosting
the populist image is the "Whistle" column, which investigates tips about
crooked cops. Nguyen Van Chinh, a retiree, recently claimed he was beaten by
a policeman whom he had accused of staging illegal cock fights. Finding
Chinh credible, Cong An told the story in "Whistle" and recommended the
officer apologize.

Like London's Fleet Street tabloids, Cong An has detractors, including those
who rebuke the paper for giving out details that aid criminals. Young
thieves sometimes say they learned their tricks "from reading Cong An." So
in recent months, the paper has been toned down a bit. The crime is still
there, but often pushed inside. The front page is more sober, with the
top--called the altar--reserved for standard fare about the country's
leaders. The paper hasn't replaced the bizarre with the boring, however. It
has added pages so fans of sensationalism still can get their fill.

Cong An's surest signs of success are its imitators: five other police
agencies now put out papers. Now that's a newspaper war in which the
combatants are well armed.

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