Hanoi fights to keep a lid on artistic expression
By Roger Mitton, Vietnam Correspondent

HANOI - The lounge of Hanoi's downtown Viet Art Centre is a great spot for discreet meetings away from the heat, noise and madding crowds of the city.

But a hubbub erupted there earlier this year, and it reflected Hanoi's dilemma in trying to control information and the arts while integrating with the global community.

The gallery held a modernistic exhibition sponsored by Germany's Goethe Institute.

All the displays came from Europe, except for a couple by local artists.

It was the Vietnamese creations that caused a furore.

Artist Truong Tan's Hidden Beauty was a design installation in the shape of a giant diaper.

He made it by sewing together hundreds of pockets designed like those used for the uniforms of Vietnamese traffic policemen.

Said Mr Tan: 'My diaper can be used for a lifetime. It has many small pouches and pockets and whatever ends up inside them disappears permanently.'

The crowds jostling excitedly around the exhibit did not need any explanation of its symbolism - it was a dig at Vietnamese policemen's reputation for pocketing bribes.

The other local exhibit, Temple Of Love, was a swan-shaped pedal boat of the type that can be seen on city lakes and which courting couples often use to get out into the middle of the lakes for some rare privacy.

The elaborately lacquered specimen in the gallery was described by creator Nguyen Quang Huy as 'a symbol of love for all those living today in a cramped and dusty Hanoi'.

So you get the picture: One exhibit evoked the vulgarity of endemic police corruption and the other extolled amorous sanctuaries for urban lovers.

When members of the ruling Communist Party's cultural commission attended the opening night, they were gobsmacked.

A protest was swiftly registered, and the two exhibits were carted away.

Said Mr Tan: 'Vietnam is supposed to be getting more open, striving to catch up with the world. But the authority's actions were wild.'

The episode showed that the regime regards culture and information in much the same way it was in the former Soviet Union: Artists and writers are viewed with suspicion. Their creative tendencies are known to reflect dangerously independent thoughts and anti-establishment attitudes.

And that sort of thing does not sit well with a one-party regime that brooks no criticism.

In fact, as Mr Truong Tan Sang, a key member of the politburo, reiterated last month, Vietnam's artistic community should reflect the nation's development and progress positively.

It should not satirise the forces of law and order, nor extol decadent and lascivious behaviour.

Perhaps recalling the art exhibition fiasco, Mr Sang cautioned that Vietnam's integration with the global community will present major challenges for the media and the arts.

However, it is not the nation's painters, poets and pressmen who will face the greatest challenges, but rather Vietnam's cultural gatekeepers themselves.

As it opens up and gets more involved in global affairs, Vietnam is witnessing not only an astonishing influx of foreign investments, expatriate businessmen and tourists, but also art exhibitions, theatre shows, movies, magazines and newspapers from around the world.

As a result, its people are being exposed to a greater range of artistic and cultural expression than they ever were before.

It is a nightmare for the watchdogs and the censors.

As one artistic display or media report is deemed inappropriate and expunged, another two pop up.

In an attempt to stem the tide, punishments have been stiffened to create fear and thus promote self-censorship, while rewards have been boosted for artists and journalists who toe the party line.

Two recent incidents involving the media illustrate the two-pronged strategy.

While the Vietnamese press is all state-owned and heavily monitored, it has become slightly more forceful in recent years.

No paper has pushed the envelope more than Tuoi Tre (Youth), a popular daily that occasionally exposes bureaucratic incompetence and misbehaviour.

Of course, as it is owned by the Ho Chi Minh City Youth Union, itself an arm of the Vietnamese Communist Party, its exposures are always carefully vetted first.

And it never directly attacks the regime or the party's involvement in business deals.

Said Dr Le Bach Duong, director of Hanoi's Institute for Social Development Studies: 'The authorities will allow newspapers to report most things, as long as they do not criticise the party or the one-party system.'

In the recent past, however, there have been intimations from Tuoi Tre that seemed to suggest it wanted to be allowed to do those things.

That was too much for the party's gatekeepers.

So last month, the paper's two respected deputy editors, Mr Huynh Son Phuoc and Mr Quang Vinh, were dismissed.

Concurrently, there were lashings of praise for editors and reporters who pleased the government.

On Aug 28, the top national press award was given to Quan Doi Nhan Dan, the official army newspaper, for an article 'describing the insidious nature of hostile Western influences'.

Two other top prizes went to stories about the life of a factory hand and a television documentary about a metallurgy worker.

There were no prizes for exposures of police corruption or flirtatious behaviour by youths.

Clearly, the gatekeepers are still winning the battle, but they may end up losing the war.