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The state of the art: Our cinema

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By Uditha Devapriya

(With input from Dhananjaya Samarakoon)

In 1965 the Sri Lankan government published the findings of a Commission of Inquiry into the Film Industry. Filled with proposals and representations from prominent players in the Ceylonese cinema, the Commission made several recommendations. The most important of these was the establishment of a National Film Corporation. Though this would not come to pass until six years later, with the election of a socialist regime committed to a level playing field in the industry, the need for such an institution was frequently underscored.

Among those who made representations to the Commission was Ceylon Theatres. Admitting to the problems of the local cinema, the organisation contended that whether financed by the State or by private players, the film producer “cannot escape the limitations imposed by his audience.” Distinguishing between the cinema and the other arts, it added that while painters, playwrights, novelists, and sculptors could create without paying much regard for the reactions of the masses, the producer remained “the slave of his audience.”

Perhaps the most important point the Commission made was the link between the fortunes of the cinema and the country’s economic problems. Advocating greater intervention in the sector, the centre-left administration which took office in 1970 recognised the problems of allowing a few private players “to virtually control the local film industry.” To that end the new government sought to reduce the influence of monopolistic elements in the market, by regulating the production, distribution, and exhibition of films. Seeking superior production values and greater local output, it tried to give the cinema a new lease of life.

In 1977 the controls enforced by the Sirimavo Bandaranaike administration were loosened. The most immediate result of the new policy was, on the one hand, “ever increasing access to American and Hong Kong productions” and, on the other, the removal of “impediments for newcomers to enter the field.” In other words, from a level playing field, the industry transformed into a business venture. The introduction of television had a considerable say in the reduction of audience numbers that followed, though commentators are divided on the extent to which it led to a fall in cinema hall attendance.

Any examination of the problems and dilemmas of the Sri Lankan cinema must consider these historical developments and shifts. Rather belatedly recognising what should have been acknowledged a long time ago, the Sri Lankan State officially categorised the cinema as an industry late last year. Though this comes too little, too late, it nevertheless behoves us to consider and reflect upon the issues facing the field now, from both administrative and creative standpoints. As always, of course, the link between these issues and the country’s economic problems remains relevant, as much as it did in 1965.

Glancing through the history of the Sri Lankan cinema, from its inception in 1947, we note that the deterioration of creative standards has been rather sharp and dismal. What’s ironic is that despite such a descent, there’s no end to the courses being offered on filmmaking, acting, scriptwriting, and cinematography in the country today. We can conclude that the main contradiction here lies between an ever-fertile reserve of talent and a woeful lack of opportunity for such talent. In other words, we have enough and more talented people. But they lack the money, agency, and access to make full use of their talent.

Part of the reason, which hardly, if at all, gets mentioned by the local commentariat on the cinema, is the absence of an industrial base in the sector. It comes to no surprise that the peak of the Sri Lankan cinema should have been the 1960s and 1970s: these were years in which a flourishing artistic renaissance coincided a not insignificant industrial presence in the film sector. While State intervention became more pronounced under the United Front administration, the existence of a thriving commercial base in the industry ensured a steady stream of not just mainstream, but also artistic productions.

It’s entirely fitting, then, that the cultural revolution heralded by the general election of 1956, which saw a centre-left alliance touting the values of local art forms come to power, should face its peak in these two decades. It’s also fitting that the undisputed doyen of the Sri Lankan cinema, Lester James Peries, should not just make two masterpieces in a row – the highly literate Gamperaliya (1964) and the highly experimental Delovak Athara (1966) – but then follow them up with three further masterpieces, all done for a commercial player, Ceylon Theatres – Golu Hadawatha (1968), Akkara Paha (1969), and Nidhanaya (1970) – in this period. These were years of cultural experimentation, experimentation that benefitted from cultural sectors, especially film, being linked to an industrial framework.

Conversely, the deterioration of the cinema can be traceable to the deterioration of that industrial framework in the country. On the advice of the World Bank, Shiran Ilanperuma writes, the country’s first government “recklessly squandered foreign-currency reserves while avoiding major industrial investment.” Ilanperuma writes that by the 1960s, terms of trade had begun to shift irrevocably, “as the export of primary products and raw materials could not sustain the country’s consumption of imported manufactures.” This had a not insignificant impact on the cinema: by the late 1960s, it was becoming clear that unless the State stepped in, the Ceylonese cinema, for long dependent on an oligopoly of production companies, would collapse. This issue was what the National Film Corporation attempted to address upon its establishment in 1971, as it did over the next few years.

The implementation of swabasha, despite its obvious limitations, also had an impact on the trajectory of the cinema after the 1950s. Though reviled by the English-speaking elite, the empowerment of a Sinhalese-speaking middle-class gave rise to a bilingual intelligentsia, in turn paving the way for a bilingual cultural community. It was from this community that the likes of Dayananda Gunawardena, who gave us the finest adaptation of a French play ever turned into a Sinhalese film, Bakmaha Deege, hailed. While the deterioration of creative and intellectual standards within the population should be admitted, there is no doubt that at its heyday, the Sri Lankan cinema benefitted from a flourishing middle-class.

Today, unfortunately, despite the existence of an upward aspiring and largely Sinhalese middle bourgeoisie, prospects no longer seem good for the local cinema. In any country it is the middle-classes that produce, and reproduce, its cultural elites. In Sri Lanka, though, this community has, however one looks at it, regressed on so many levels, owing mainly to a declining economic situation. We can note the decline of standards in film and television production today, not so much in acting as in scriptwriting and camerawork. We can also note a despairing lack of imagination in films and TV serials: from predictable storylines to endless dialogues, we have come down dismally on so many fronts.

I think the problem has to do with the fact that we no longer explore new themes and issues through the cinema. If we do, we invariably create trends that are imitated and reproduced by a hundred or so other filmmakers and scriptwriters. Ho Gana Pokuna was a brilliant and a highly exceptional film, but it set a precedent for stories about impoverished village schools and idealistic teachers that continue to be filmed, even now. Aloko Udapadi sensationalised audiences and critics, but since its release five years ago we have been making million-rupee budget historical epics which look and feel despairingly predictable.

To be sure, these are hardly any problems specific to only the cinema. When was the last time a cover song didn’t make the rounds online, giving a temporary spotlight to the cover artist while popularising the original tune? When did a mainstream TV series, of which seem to be inundated with these days, not try to cut costs by way of static camera frames and endless expository dialogues? Art exhibitions, especially in Colombo, seem limited to an intellectual upper crust who can afford rental costs in the city and whose work seems not merely cut off from the world around them, but also downright indifferent to it.

We need to acknowledge that there can be no way out for the cinema here unless our cultural industries are linked to a proper industrial framework. In the 1960s, the last peak decade of the three big production companies, Sri Lanka faced an acute terms of trade and structural crisis that the State shielded the cinema from by establishing a Film Corporation and setting high artistic and administrative standards. This did not, to be sure, always work out well, but it did keep the cinema at bay during those difficult days of the 1970s. One can hardly be prudish about the liberalisation of the industry after 1977, but the fact is that the sluggish growth, and then decline, of the cinema remains very much linked to the economic and structural impasses we have been stumbling into since then.

The truth of the matter is that without a proper industrial policy and industrial base, no country’s cinema can be sustained for long. Whether from a creative or an administrative standpoint, the Sri Lankan cinema deserves much more than what it has been subjected to. But where are the policymakers and experts who can prescribe radical solutions, who can recommend an industrialisation plan that can help our cinema take off? In the US, in China, and in India, these problems have been, and are being, combated. In Sri Lanka this does not appear to be the case. That is to be regretted, deeply and sincerely.

(Uditha Devapriya can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com, while Dhananjaya Samarakoon can be reached at dhananjayasmrk@gmail.com)

 



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Defining Oxygen Economy for sustaining life on Earth and growing intergenerational wealth

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Image courtesy Vedantu

by Dr. Ranil Senanayake

The Oxygen that is present in the air that we breathe is the birth right of every organism that lives on this planet. It is free for everyone. However, the action of some to take out more than their share, without replacement, has created a condition, where the Global Commons of air is being rapidly degraded,

The most critical component of air is Oxygen. It surrounds us, filling our lungs with every breath we take. It is the invisible gift of nature that we take for granted. But this essential resource—the very foundation of life— is being constricted, because the volume of trees, plants, and photosynthetic organisms that produce oxygen is being lost across the planet. Further, there is no initiative for this generation capacity to be increased as a matter of urgency. exploited at present? Why couldn’t increasing the generation capacity of Oxygen have economic value? Could those who benefit most from using the resources of the Global Commons be required to contribute to its maintenance? This is the idea behind the Oxygen Economy, a bold and transformative concept that seeks to address environmental and social challenges in a way that is fair, sustainable, and forward-thinking beyond GDP value which measures the success of our societies today.

What Is the Oxygen Economy?

The Oxygen Economy is a financial framework, that recognises the value of the global stocks of Oxygen within the commons and records the deposition and consumption through economic activity.

The Oxygen Economy is a principled framework that recognises the stocks, transactions and deposits of Oxygen into the Global commons and assigns value to stocks from privately contracted production units, it stems from a growing recognition that Oxygen is a declining resource with an easy replenishment response.

Oxygen, considered a “free” resource. It is not. Much like oil and coal it is a ‘fossil’ resource that has been a part of the atmosphere for millions of years. It has been slowly declining, but is ‘topped up’ by a service provided by the earth’s ecosystems —particularly trees, plants, and other photosynthetic organisms. These organisms create molecular Oxygen through the process of photosynthesis, supporting life on earth and maintaining the balance of our atmosphere.

At its core, the Oxygen Economy aims to ensure that those who produce contracted and monitored oxygen, be it towns, farmlands, rural or forested lands, are fairly compensated for their efforts. It also holds industries and private-sector entities that benefit from oxygen consumption accountable in maintaining the sustainability of this resource.

What is the urgency to address oxygen as a depleting resource?

Other than the obvious fact of falling global stocks, the need of an Oxygen Economy arises from the urgency of addressing two critical challenges facing humanity: environmental degradation and economic inequality. Placing value on Oxygen production could effectively provide an effective response to both. For decades, efforts to combat climate change have focused primarily on carbon

sequestration. While important, the focus on Carbon sequestration often overlooks other vital ecosystem services, including oxygen production that can contribute towards a growing wealth paradigm. Oxygen, like water and food, is essential for life. However, unlike other resources, it has largely been treated as infinite and freely available, which it is not. In reality, the supply of Oxygen to the atmosphere is decreasing due to deforestation, while the consumption of Oxygen by space exploration, industrial production, war and transport are increasing. Today Oxygen levels have dropped by approximately 2%, raising concerns about the long- term sustainability of this critical resource.

How the Oxygen Economy works

The Oxygen Economy operates on the principles of private property being valued using financial tools such as valuation guarantees, stakeholder contracts and Insurances to monetise contractually produced oxygen as a financial product. This involves three key components:

1. Valuation guarantee:

Assigning an economic value to the oxygen produced by contracted and registered units in identified geographical areas of production is based on the researched, monitored and validated measurements of oxygen generation by trees / plants or photosynthetic organisms such as Cyanobacteria.

2. Deposition guarantee:

Issuance of certificates of completion and deposit of Oxygen into the global Commons Stakeholder Contracts and Compensation: Establishing formal agreements between oxygen consumers (e. g., corporations / Space exploration companies) and contracted oxygen producers (e.g., farmers, Local communities)

3. Policy and regulation: Introducing replicable legal frameworks at a regional scale to enforce accountability and prevent the uncontrolled exploitation of global oxygen resources.

Lessons from Sri Lanka

One country that is already exploring the potential of the Oxygen Economy is in the bioregional area of Sri Lanka. Known for its rich biodiversity and commitment to environmental stewardship, Sri Lanka has implemented initiatives that align with the principles of the Oxygen Economy. In one notable project, women from farming communities established and nurtured trees using contracts that measured and validated payments for photosynthetic biomass on an annually recurring basis for a period of four years. The stakeholders earning substantive income from this project were sensitised to the emerging Oxygen Economy while contributing their obligations to global environmental resilience. Over three years, these participants generated thousands of litres of oxygen, demonstrating that the concept is not only viable but also impactful.

Scaling the Oxygen Economy globally:

While Sri Lanka’s efforts are a promising start, the true potential of the Oxygen Economy

lies in its ability to scale globally. Imagine a world where farmers are compensated for the establishment of trees, where rural and even urban greenery projects could receive funding to expand their impact for this paradigm of business. Such a system would not only help combat climate change but also address economic inequalities of the current GDP paradigm, by together contracting the Oxygen economic asset tool to those who sustain the planet’s life-support systems.

Addressing potential challenges

Like any transformative idea, the Oxygen Economy faces potential challenges. Critics may argue that assigning a monetary value to Oxygen risks commodifying a natural resource that should remain freely accessible. Others may question the feasibility of measuring, validating and regulating oxygen production on a global scale. These concerns can be addressed by emphasising the ethical principles behind the Oxygen Economy. The goal is not to charge people for breathing but to ensure that those who contribute to its sustainability profit from financial contracts for Oxygen production. Additionally, such transparent systems for measuring and validating oxygen production will be crucial for building trust and ensuring fairness towards the vision of accounting for intergenerational wealth beyond the GDP framework that exists.

A vision for the future

The Oxygen Economy represents a paradigm shift in how we think about our relationship with the planet. It challenges us to move beyond the notion of nature as an infinite resource and to recognise the boundaries of our Global Commons. The true value of planet Earth is as an ecosystem that sustains life for all biota. By aligning economic practices with environmental stewardship, the Oxygen Economy offers a path towards a more equitable and sustainable future. It supports the foundations of intergenerational wealth that will be reflected in our contributions to the cycling atmospheric gasses of our Global Commons.

Imagine a world where the air we breathe is not taken for granted but is cherished and protected. Where farmers, communities, and ecosystems are rewarded for their contributions to the planet’s well-being. Where industries operate with a framework of accountability to prioritise the health of our shared environment. This is the vision of the Oxygen Economy—a vision that is within our reach if we act together, with urgency and determination, to lay well informed, solid foundations.

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Two sides to a coin; each mourn threat; no threat, no budget blues

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The coin Cassandra starts her Friday Cry with the recent film Rani. Parroting what her friends said on seeing the film, Cass in her Cry just prior to this wrote: “It has been reviewed as outstanding; raved over by many; and already grossed the highest amount in SL cinema history – Rs 100 million from date of release January 30 to February 14. This last: testimony to its popular appeal and acceptance as an outstanding cinema achievement.

” Cass admitted she had not seen the film. She now realises her reluctance to jostle in the crowd in one of many cinemas retelling the murder of Richard de Zoysa and traumatic mourning of his mother, Manorani, was because there grew in her a distaste after watching short previews on YouTube of parts of the film. Most centered on is Swarna Mallawarachchi, starring as Manorani, downing alcohol and smoking cigarette after cigarette. Director Asoka Handagama was sensationlising the more dramatic incidents of the tragedy. That was to please the crowd.

We Sri Lankans, or many, have absolutely no tight upper lip. Most funerals of yesteryear and many rural ones still have writhing moaning and groaning and appeals to the dead to smile one more time, say a word, rise up. These loud gasped cries in between sobbing sent Cass wickedly into silent giggles. She thought: what if the dead obliged with even one request. Worst, if he rose up and sat in his coffin. The first to run away would be the callers! People love wallowing in sniffles of sorrow. Audiences much prefer fictionalised retelling of events to documentaries about them. Handagama does style his film as fictionalised history but he definitely is guilty of sensationalism. Cass’ gut feelings have been given words in a criticism on Face Book which was shared with Cass by a nephew.

The sent around message is titled: Misconceived, Misinterpreted, Miscast and a Big Mistake. That tells it all. However there follows an incisive critique of the film Rani by one of Richard’s friends who knew Manorani well and how she was after her son’s death. He signs himself, but Cass will not quote the name here since there is much truth, lies and even hidden agendas in what is posted on social media.

He writes: “Badly acted, badly directed and badly researched … A clear example of character assassination via a deliberate misuse of artistic license! … I want to state my opinion about two people that many of us loved, respected and knew intimately.” He then goes on to point out mistakes and exaggerations: Manorani was never even bordering on alcoholism and hardly ever smoked. And when she did, socially or to dim her sorrow, she did it elegantly. A Man Friday commented: they should have taught Swarna how to hold a cigarette and smoke it as it should be smoked. Hence my contention, every coin, even a box office success, has two sides to it, two diverse criticisms and in-betweens. Decision: Cass will not queue for a cinema ticket.

Each morn

Phoned a US living friend who was recovering from a harsh winter’s gift to her – severe flu. She said the flu was leaving her but depression and distraught-ness about hers and the US’s future were threatening to drown her in emotional turmoil much worse than the worst cough ‘n cold.

I knew the reason – Trump’s trumpets of new opinions, threats, enactments et al. She dreaded getting up each morning wondering what new calamity was to descend on the American people and by influence, spreading to the world. Her son has forbidden TV news watching and reading the newspapers which she says are so opposed to media treatment of the Prez.

I could very well sympathise with her. We in Sri Lanka suffered bouts of such threatened discomfort, nay calamitous warnings and sheer dread. My remembering mind went to Shakespeare in his tragic play Macbeth. Macduff’s description of Scotland under the reign of Macbeth to Malcolm, son and heir of murdered Duncan now sheltered in England, goes thus: “Each new morn/ New widows howl, new orphans cry/ new sorrows strike heaven on the face that it resounds.”

Cass does not know about you but dread lurked in her heart and mind when the JVP 1989 insurrection took place – for her teenage son. The LTTE and suicide bombs caused utter destruction of life, limb and infrastructure. Families who had travelled together now travelled to schools and workplaces separately since no bus or train was safe. Nor were the privately owned cars. Then came two tyrant Presidents with sudden deaths of prominent persons and media personnel like Richard and Lasantha and many others.

Blatant robbing of our money had us gasping helplessly. Riff raff rose in power and lorded, one such tying a man to a stake for not attending a meeting. Then rode to power on popular vote another brother in the newly created powerful dynasty. Word of mouth minus stroke of pen had orders given out to be promptly executed. White vans which plied the streets were reduced but worse happened.

One order and the rice fields had no grain, fruits dried on trees, forex earning luscious two leaves and a bud withered and could not be plucked. Bankruptcy resulted. But we had a ‘shipless’ harbour which had to be mortgaged for a song to the Chinese; a plane-less airport sounding death to elephants and peafowl; and a gaudy tower to gaze on or commit suicide from. A gathering of people on Galle Face Green righted things.

Then came into power a party that had two men and a woman in Parliament which yielded a true Sri Lankan with country first and last in mind, as President. Followed a sharp victory for the coalition of parties led by the hopefully reformed JVP so that three seats became almost two thirds of all seats in Parliament and a woman as Prime Minister. She had no connection to previous Heads unlike a former woman PM and Prez. The first woman PM rode to power weeping for her murdered husband; the younger very promising Prez because she was daughter of two Heads of Sri Lanka. But there was, even under their reign, mutterings and difficulties.

Truth be told, we sleep better at night and wake up with no dread in our innards. We rise to shine (if possible, in the heat of Feb) knowing people are working and corruption is not wrought by those in power. Thank goodness and our sensible voters for this peace we savour.

2025 Budget

Cass’ title has the phrase ‘no budget blues’. Looks like it is generally correct. Of course, the Opposition is criticising Finance Minister AKD’s presented budget. Cass is no economist, not by a long chalk, but she was glad to see that expenditure on health and education were substantial. We had a time when the armed forces were allocated more than education and health combined. Much has been looked into: including pregnant women and the Jaffna library among a host of mentioned amenities. We have no need to pessimistically await a Gazette Extraordinary stating negative segments of the future year’s financial plan. Thanks be!

Gaza and Ukraine are worse in position and the world is awry. But Sri Lanka is in a phase where Kuveni’s curse is stilled and people are considering themselves Sri Lankans, uniting to re-make Sri Lanka Clean as it was before selfish corrupt politicians took over.

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As Africa toes Chinese line …

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Mitchell Gallagher

Every year, China’s minister of foreign affairs embarks on what has now become a customary odyssey across Africa. The tradition began in the late 1980s and sees Beijing’s top diplomat visit several African nations to reaffirm ties. The most recent visit, by Foreign Minister Wang Yi, took place in mid-January 2025 and included stops in Namibia, the Republic of the Congo, Chad and Nigeria.

For over two decades, China’s burgeoning influence in Africa was symbolised by grand displays of infrastructural might. From Nairobi’s gleaming towers to expansive ports dotting the continent’s shorelines, China’s investments on the continent have surged, reaching over $700 billion by 2023 under the Belt and Road Initiative, China’s massive global infrastructure development strategy.

But in recent years, Beijing has sought to expand beyond roads and skyscrapers and has made a play for the hearts and minds of African people. With a deft mix of persuasion, power and money, Beijing has turned to African media as a potential conduit for its geopolitical ambitions. Partnering with local outlets and journalist-training initiatives, China has expanded China’s media footprint in Africa. Its purpose? To change perceptions and anchor the idea of Beijing as a provider of resources and assistance and a model for development and governance. The ploy appears to be paying dividends, with evidence of sections of the media giving favourable coverage to China.

But as someone researching the reach of China’s influence overseas, I am beginning to see a nascent backlash against pro-Beijing reporting in countries across the continent. China’s approach to Africa rests mainly on its use of “soft power,” manifested through things like the media and cultural programmes. Beijing presents this as “win-win cooperation”—a quintessential Chinese diplomatic phrase mixing collaboration with cultural diplomacy. Key to China’s media approach in Africa are two institutions: The China Global Television Network (CGTN) Africa and Xinhua News Agency.

CGTN Africa, which was set up in 2012, offers a Chinese perspective on African news. The network produces content in multiple languages, including English, French and Swahili, and its coverage routinely portrays Beijing as a constructive partner, reporting on infrastructure projects, trade agreements and cultural initiatives. Moreover, Xinhua News Agency, China’s state news agency, now boasts 37 bureaus on the continent. By contrast, Western media presence in Africa remains comparatively limited.

The BBC, long embedded due to the United Kingdom’s colonial legacy, still maintains a large footprint among foreign outlets, but its influence is largely historical rather than expanding. And as Western media influence in Africa has plateaued, China’s state-backed media has grown exponentially. This expansion is especially evident in the digital domain. On Facebook, for example, CGTN Africa commands a staggering 4.5 million followers, vastly outpacing CNN Africa, which has 1.2 million—a stark indicator of China’s growing soft power reach. China’s zero-tariff trade policy with 33 African countries showcases how it uses economic policies to mould perceptions.

And state-backed media outlets like CGTN Africa and Xinhua are central to highlighting such projects and pushing an image of China as a benevolent partner. Stories of an “all-weather” or steadfast China-Africa partnership are broadcast widely and the coverage frequently depicts the grand nature of Chinese infrastructure projects. Amid this glowing coverage, the labour disputes, environmental devastation or debt traps associated with some Chinese-built infrastructure are less likely to make headlines. Questions of media veracity notwithstanding, China’s strategy is bearing fruit.

A Gallup poll from April 2024 showed China’s approval ratings climbing in Africa as US ratings dipped. Afrobarometer, a pan-African research organisation, further reports that public opinion of China in many African countries is positively glowing, an apparent validation of China’s discourse engineering. Further, studies have shown that pro-Beijing media influences perceptions. A 2023 survey of Zimbabweans found that those who were exposed to Chinese media were more likely to have a positive view of Beijing’s economic activities in the country. The effectiveness of China’s media strategy becomes especially apparent in the integration of local media.

Through content-sharing agreements, African outlets have disseminated Beijing’s editorial line and stories from Chinese state media, often without the due diligence of journalistic scepticism. Meanwhile, StarTimes, a Chinese media company, delivers a steady stream of curated depictions of translated Chinese movies, TV shows and documentaries across 30 countries in Africa. But China is not merely pushing its viewpoint through African channels. It’s also taking a lead role in training African journalists, thousands of whom have been lured by all-expenses-paid trips to China under the guise of “professional development.” On such junkets, they receive training that critics say obscures the distinction between skill-building and propaganda, presenting them with perspectives conforming to Beijing’s line.

Ethiopia exemplifies how China’s infrastructure investments and media influence have fostered a largely favourable perception of Beijing. State media outlets, often staffed by journalists trained in Chinese-run programmes, consistently frame China’s role as one of selfless partnership. Coverage of projects like the Addis AbabaDjibouti railway line highlights the benefits, while omitting reports on the substandard labour conditions tied to such projects—an approach reflective of Ethiopia’s media landscape, where state-run outlets prioritise economic development narratives and rely heavily on Xinhua as a primary news source. In Angola, Chinese oil companies extract considerable resources and channel billions into infrastructure projects.

The local media, again regularly staffed by journalists who have accepted invitations to visit China, often portray Sino-Angolan relations in glowing terms. Allegations of corruption, the displacement of local communities and environmental degradation are relegated to side notes in the name of common development. Despite all of the Chinese influence, media perspectives in Africa are far from uniformly pro-Beijing. In Kenya, voices of dissent are beginning to rise and media professionals immune to Beijing’s allure are probing the true costs of Chinese financial undertakings. In South Africa, media watchdogs are sounding alarms, pointing to a gradual attrition of press freedoms that come packaged with promises of growth and prosperity.

In Ghana, anxiety about Chinese media influence permeates more than the journalism sector, as officials have raised concerns about the implications of Chinese media cooperation agreements. Wariness in Ghana became especially apparent when local journalists started reporting that Chinese-produced content was being prioritised over domestic stories in state media.

Beneath the surface of China’s well publicised projects and media offerings, and the African countries or organisations that embrace Beijing’s line, a significant countervailing force exists that challenges uncritical representations and pursues rigorous journalism. Yet as CGTN Africa and Xinhua become entrenched in African media ecosystems, a pertinent question comes to the forefront: Will Africa’s journalists and press be able to uphold their impartiality and retain intellectual independence? As China continues to make strategic inroads in Africa, it’s a fair question.

(The writer is a PhD candidate of political science at Wayne State University, US. This article was published on www.theconversation.com)

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