Dr. Ross Tapsell is a researcher and lecturer at the Australian National University’s College of Asia and the Pacific, specializing in Southeast Asian media, culture, and society. He is the author of Media Power in Indonesia: Oligarchs, Citizens and the Digital Revolution. His work explores the intersections of digital technologies, media ownership, and politics in Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines. Dr. Tapsell’s research also explores the evolving information ecosystems in Southeast Asia, with a particular focus on how disinformation and social media campaigning affect democratic processes.
In this interview, Dr. Tapsell discusses how the convergence of media ownership and digital platforms is reshaping Southeast Asia’s information society. He highlights the rise of disinformation, the democratization of propaganda, the challenges posed by social media platforms like Facebook, and the profound impact of these dynamics on democracy, press freedom, and public discourse across the region.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Arshi Qureshi: How do you see the dynamics between media ownership and political influence evolving with the increasing role of digital platforms in Southeast Asia?
Dr. Ross Tapsell: The very foundations of our so-called ‘information society’ are undergoing a change. Traditional mainstream media is no longer the dominant force it once was. Instead, politicians and elites have expanded their influence by not only owning legacy media outlets but by leveraging digital platforms to control and shape narratives on an unprecedented scale. The amount of money being funnelled into digital media narrative control is staggering and growing by the day. This ecosystem thrives on a variety of tools — paying influencers and mobilizing ‘troll armies’ are part of this ecosystem, and even controlling the platforms themselves. In this landscape, politicians are increasingly sidestepping professional journalists and critics, instead, they communicate directly with citizens via platforms that shield them from the rigorous scrutiny and accountability.
AQ: Southeast Asia has some of the world’s highest social media penetration rates. How does this shape public discourse differently compared to other regions, especially in terms of democratic participation?
RT: Social media’s impact on public discourse is a global phenomenon, but its effects are more pronounced in Southeast Asia, where it serves as the primary source of ‘news’ and often the only internet access for many citizens. Countries like Indonesia and the Philippines, with some of the world’s highest social media penetration rates, experience this more acutely. Tech platforms in these regions have substantial influence over public discourse and democracy. When these tech platforms promote disinformation, amplify hate speech, and encourage content that incites anger, democracy suffers.
Similarly, when these tech platforms fail to promote quality journalism and facts, the citizens are left without the information necessary for informed decision-making. Unfortunately, tech platforms tend to view Southeast Asia as an “emerging market” and focus more on user numbers than the broader social and democratic implications. In Silicon Valley, the spotlight is on issues like Trump and US elections, with tech solutions largely framed within that context. There’s a tendency to overlook Southeast Asia’s potential contributions to global debates on technology and democracy, which could offer valuable perspectives for addressing these complex issues.
AQ: How effective have platforms like Facebook been in mitigating disinformation in the region, particularly during elections? How do they compare with less scrutinized platforms like Line or Viber?
RT: Line is popular in Thailand, but Meta remains the key company dominating social media in Southeast Asia, given that it owns Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp. Facebook has taken steps to combat disinformation, particularly during election periods. For example, Facebook has set up moderation teams to manage content at critical times, which has provided some measure of effectiveness. After the Rohingya genocide, Facebook faced significant scrutiny in Southeast Asia over its role in allowing harmful content to spread. It also came under fire for its part in the election of populist leaders like Rodrigo Duterte in the Philippines, whose rise to power led to extrajudicial killings.
Scholars and journalists, including Nobel laureate Maria Ressa, have extensively highlighted these concerns. Despite these attempts at mitigation, the situation remains dire. Unlike X (formerly Twitter), which has largely ceased efforts to curb disinformation, Facebook at least continues to take action, although it’s still insufficient. Southeast Asian organizations and academics working on disinformation will attest that the problem is becoming more severe. Ultimately, relying on tech platforms alone to manage misinformation isn’t enough—structural changes in the internet and information ecosystem are essential.
AQ: Your research highlights the democratization of disinformation, where it is not just state actors but also politicians and influencers driving campaigns. What unique strategies have you observed in countries like Indonesia and the Philippines?
RT: Disinformation is essentially a form of propaganda, and each country brings its own history and cultural context to how it is used. In Indonesia, for instance, the legacy of the 1965 anti-communist purge has shaped the state-sponsored narratives, with communism still invoked as a ‘bogeyman’ in political discourse—a tactic that continues to fuel disinformation today. Similarly, the Philippines has a long history of propaganda, with ‘red-tagging’—the practice of labelling someone a communist in order to threaten or silence them —still a common strategy.
In both countries, politicians and influencers have embraced new digital tactics to amplify their influence. The use of ‘trolls’ and ‘buzzers’—digital workers who manipulate social media discourse—is increasingly prevalent. These strategies are part of a growing trend in Southeast Asia, where disinformation is democratized and can be driven not only by state actors but by politicians and influencers as well.
AQ: How do the challenges of combating disinformation in Malaysia differ from those in Indonesia or the Philippines?
RT: Malaysia’s history of propaganda is deeply rooted in the narrative of defining “who is considered Malaysian.” In Malaysia, the challenges of combating disinformation are closely tied to the country’s racial and religious dynamics. Unlike in Indonesia or the Philippines, where disinformation often revolves around political ideologies or historical narratives, Malaysia’s disinformation is largely shaped by racialized hate speech. This is due to the race-based nature of its political parties, which define themselves by how they construct and promote racial identities. As a result, political campaigns and disinformation in Malaysia often focus on race and religion, amplifying societal divisions.
AQ: How do Southeast Asian governments use the guise of combating fake news to suppress dissent?
RT: Southeast Asia offers a clear example of the risks associated with hastily drafted fake news laws. In Malaysia, a 2018 law defined ‘fake news’ as “news which is false or fake,” leaving its interpretation intentionally vague. Similarly, Indonesia’s UU ITE (Information and Electronic Transactions Law) has been weaponized against government critics, particularly activists and journalists. The key issue lies in who determines what qualifies as fake news. Typically, it’s powerful entities like the police or politicians wielding these laws against less powerful groups, such as activists or journalists.
Despite this, such laws enjoy widespread support from both Southeast Asian governments and their citizens. Why? Because trust in tech platforms as sources of quality information has eroded, leading to a belief that “someone has to do something.” They believe action is necessary to address the spread of falsehoods, even if the laws are imperfect. Moreover, citizens often assume these laws won’t target them personally. Most people believe they’re sharing the truth, unaware they could become targets—until it happens to them. This combination of declining faith in platforms and personal detachment fosters an environment where fake news laws can suppress dissent under the guise of combating disinformation.
AQ: In Media Power in Indonesia, you discuss the concentration of media ownership. How will the rise of digital media influence this concentration?
RT: In my book Media Power in Indonesia: Oligarchs, Citizens and the Digital Revolution, I examined how media moguls leveraged digitalization to expand their media empires, including acquiring independent online outlets. This trend is troubling because independent media that challenge powerful corporations and officials are essential for a functioning democracy. When such outlets are absorbed by oligarchs, the public sphere is weakened.
One key issue identified in the book is the consolidation of these “digital conglomerates” in capital cities, leading to the decline of local news. In many countries, news coverage is heavily capital-centric, focussing on political and celebrity affairs in urban hubs. Meanwhile, the issues central to regional areas—such as the grip of elites and security forces on local economies and governance—receive scant attention in the digital conglomerates’ reporting.
AQ: The Philippines has been called patient zero for social media manipulation, with strategies such as troll farms and fake accounts extensively used during the Duterte administration to bolster pro-government narratives and undermine opposition voices. What are the long-term impacts of these disinformation tactics on democratic institutions, public trust, and press freedom in the Philippines?
RT: The long-term impact is that the contemporary internet is increasingly dominated by state-sponsored manipulation. While the tactics evolve— from trolls to vloggers— the core strategy remains unchanged: powerful figures recognize that controlling and shaping online information is essential in order to achieve their personal ambitions.
Today, every politician acknowledges that winning an election, whether local or national, requires “social media teams” to drive online campaigns. Unfortunately, these efforts often involve disinformation and slander. This creates a system where the politician or party with the most resources for digital campaigns enjoys a significant advantage. And crucially, access to state funds for such campaigns gives incumbents an overwhelming edge, further skewing the playing field. The correlation between incumbency and digital campaign dominance is evident in recent election victories, such as those of President Prabowo in Indonesia and President Marcos Jnr in the Philippines.
AQ: In Southeast Asia, particularly the Philippines, journalists and human rights advocates often face online harassment, which creates a chilling effect on press freedom and civic engagement. What measures can be implemented to protect journalists and uphold free speech in the face of such threats?
RT: Yes, this is becoming an increasingly urgent issue. Too often, online harassment of journalists is overlooked, especially the specific targeting of female journalists. In Southeast Asia, some of the bravest and most dedicated journalists are women, and they are the ones most frequently subjected to online threats. It’s also important to note that female politicians face similar challenges.
I worked with Kryss Network in Malaysia, and we found that many women feel they cannot win an election due to the rising tide of gendered disinformation. We need to do more to understand and address this, particularly the online harassment of female journalists. Misogyny flourishes when hyper-masculine, chauvinist-populists come to power, a trend that is visible worldwide. I believe that if we begin by using a feminist lens to combat online harassment, we will have a stronger foundation for long-term success in protecting journalists and upholding free speech.
AQ: How do the growing influence of hard-line religious influencers, the role of social media platforms like TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube, and Indonesia’s new criminal code—potentially expanding blasphemy laws and government surveillance—impact religious minorities’ ability to freely express themselves online amidst rising hate speech, harassment, and conservative movements?
RT: The issue of tech platforms and religious minorities in Southeast Asia is complex. There is a clear connection between religion and race in terms of minority persecution. I mentioned Malaysia earlier, but this dynamic is evident throughout the region, such as the persecution of Papuans in Indonesia. In India, there is a direct correlation between conservatism and state-sponsored religious nationalism, but Southeast Asia presents a different picture. For instance, the Indonesian state has historically repressed pro-Islamist groups. While some Indonesian minorities may view this as a positive development, it highlights the growing trend of state control over non-state actors.
In Malaysia, the current government is insecure and seeks to reduce Islamist content on platforms like TikTok. While some minorities in Malaysia might support this, the so-called ‘pluralist’ government is, like in Indonesia, becoming more repressive online. The problem is that such repression emboldens conservative groups who claim to be persecuted, making the narrative that Islam is ‘under threat’ more convincing to certain constituencies.
That said, the persecution of minorities online is a genuine concern in the region. Disinformation often plays a role in ‘othering’ religious and racial minorities, who are typically portrayed as immigrants. However, it’s important not to equate Southeast Asia’s situation with what is happening in India or the U.S. For example, Muslims from Myanmar are regularly persecuted and face hate speech online in Muslim-majority Malaysia and Indonesia.
AQ: How can governments, tech companies, and civil society in Southeast Asia effectively counteract misinformation—particularly during elections—while safeguarding press freedom, preventing authoritarian misuse of censorship, and ensuring platforms prioritize responsible policy changes?
RT: I increasingly believe that we need to move beyond the concept of ‘tech platform accountability.’ The current approach suggests that we can allow tech platforms to maintain their dominant position in our information ecosystem, but just hold them more accountable for their actions. But this isn’t enough. Instead, we must reimagine the internet itself, making it less corporatized and more of a public good. This goes beyond breaking up monopolies—it means empowering a new generation of citizens, perhaps driven by Gen Z or Alpha, to create something entirely new.
My generation (Gen X) helped shape using the values of post-Cold War capitalism and neoliberalism. For a while, it seemed to work, with movements like the Arab Spring and pro-democracy movements (including in Southeast Asia) in the early 2010s. However, the inherent flaws of neoliberalism became apparent— these ideals inevitably favor powerful elites. Now, we must reimagine the digital public sphere in a way that truly serves people.
Despite the challenges and the current digital landscape, I remain optimistic. I believe regions like Southeast Asia are pivotal in rethinking and reshaping the internet. The internet played a key role in the Indonesian and Malaysian Reformasi (reform) movements, helping advance pro-democracy ideals that still resonate today. I firmly believe that the internet can once again be a progressive force.
(Arshi Qureshi is a Research Fellow at the Center for the Study of Organized Hate’s Violence, Extremism, and Radicalization Program.)