Beijing Newspeak

It’s a very bad time to leave Xinhua News Agency. Next week, my department Dui Wai Bu will hold its first Spring Festival party for four years, an event I will miss as I’m due to polish my last Xinhua story today at 7 pm. I have experienced two Chinese New Years at Xinhua and they were both highly sober occasions.

Back in January 2006, I shuffled my first uncertain steps through the gate of the agency compound into an expected land of evil Communist rhetoric and robotic journalists chanting Party mantras, trying to avoid the eyes of those scary armed guards you only associate with Tiananmen Square incidents because you only ever see them looking stern in the newspapers every June 4. Just two days later, I found myself in a lift with a band of people much older than me who called themselves “The Releasers” on my way to a Spring Festival dinner.

It was held on the third floor of the Xinhua canteen. The buffet was like much of Xinhua’s output - high in quantity, low in quality. On a stage stood a microphone into which a string of men in suits spoke of how Xinhua had released many stories in 2005 and would be releasing even more in 2006. We all sat at round tables drinking coke from paper cups. The leaders gathered on the table closest to the stage on which a lady sang excerpts of Xinhua’s best government statements of 2005 to the tune of Mo Li Hua (I admit the lyrics bit is a flagrant lie), drinking red wine from crystal glasses. Every so often a leader would come round to each table and attempt to clink his wine glass with each paper cup of fizz. I reacted by saying what is expected of a cynical foreigner who has just skipped out of a haven of democracy into China, looking for fascinating examples of Communism at work: “Aha, that’s Communism at work.” The person next to me smiled politely.

The following year’s dinner stuck a couple of fingers - one on each hand for added rudeness - up at the concept of celebration, being as it was more dour than Gordon Brown’s attempt to match funnyman Wen Jiabao’s wisecracks over the weekend. President Tian Congming was on a cost-cutting drive so he didn’t even bother to turn up to feel the effects of his penny pinching. The live music had been scaled down to a cassette playing ”Jingle Bells” on repeat. Only one man in a suit spoke of how Xinhua had released many stories in 2006 and would release even more in 2007 (they succeeded, I can vouch for that). The man - actually one of the vice presidents - didn’t even stay for dinner. “The Releasers” had split up - I only had three for company this time. The round tables were now boring rectangles. The only thing that differed from a normal lunchtime on floor three was the slight increase in the number of prawns.

Not this year though. The party will feature salsa dancing, a modelling show and karaoke. I, and I’m being serious now, will be sad to miss it. I am also unable to attend a grand banquet for ”foreign experts” in the new five-floor canteen/leisure complex, the impending opening of which is another striking example of how Xinhua is now loping into the 21st Century in its own special way. Food won’t be served on a regular basis for at least another month because of poisonous paint fumes but my oh my dining will be a very different experience.

The old canteen, as mentioned above, is a true bastion of danwei dining. Not so long ago, the three-floor Xinhua canteen was known as one of the three great halls (san da tang) of Beijing. The saying went like this: “Mao zhu xi ji nian tang, ren min da hui tang, xinhua she da shi tang.” (Chairman Mao’s Memorial Hall, Great Hall of the People, Xinhua Dining Hall.” It held its prestigious status because during the days when food was at times scarce, Xinhua staff always remained well fed. I suppose if you want them to believe what they write when they are telling the people the food supply is plentiful, it helps if they have full stomachs. There are plans to turn the building into a Xinhua museum - I am still mulling over a request to offer my body up for the Pickled Polisher exhibit.

While I certainly do not begrudge a Xinhua journalist a bit of fine living, the new canteen flies hilariously in the face of a story the agency released in June last year, which began like this:

China’s disciplinary watchdog has ordered a thorough investigation into government buildings constructed after January 1, 2005 and those currently under development after the recent scandal in which more than 20 officials were punished for ordering the construction of lavish official buildings.

The Central Commission of Discipline Inspection (CCDI) of the Communist Party of China said the inspection was being conducted to find out whether some government buildings are excessively in terms of size, decoration and number of facilities.

The government has set a limit of 4,000 yuan (512 U.S. dollars) per square meter for the construction of ministerial level buildings.

Unnecessary items include: grandiose atriums, fountains in the floor one canteen that sound like waterfalls - guaranteed to send people scurrying to relieve themselves, an enormous area for the serving of “western” food which most people will ignore as the dishes are double the price and there are only about 30 foreign experts in the organisation who hate to eat bizarre versions of ”western” dishes, a domed glass arena on floor five under which two championship-standard table tennis tables wait to be christened, and a neverending choice of lavish banqueting halls for foreign dignitaries. Someone did tell me how much the whole thing cost but there were so many zeros I’ve forgotten. There is one nice example of conservation though. Outside the canteen, instead of planting grass that needs gallons of water to coax it through the Beijing dry season (ie most of the year), patches of fluorescent green artificial turf have been laid. I think I’ll nick a square on my way out.

On a more reflective note, it has been an eventful two years at Xinhua at least from where I was sitting. Unfortunately, the overall quality of Xinhua’s english-language output is worse than it was 18 months ago, basically because “reporting rights” were in essence taken away from Dui Wai Bu journalists in the summer of 2006. A new department was created called the Central News Desk (CND) and it became the only department officially authorised to contact government ministries. Dui Wai Bu journalists were reduced to translating meaningless six-par stories for fear that ignoring them would incur punishment. The CND reporters are the only ones allowed to attend regular press conferences and the quality of the reporting of them is pitiful for four main reasons: tighter censorship controls on the CND, huge workload governed by a set quota of stories, inadequate training and pure laziness. The establishment of the CND has been deeply unpopular in Dui Wai Bu. The official reason for the move was that government officials were complaining too many Xinhua journalists were showing up at press conferences and asking the same questions. However, I’m pretty sure it was mainly because restricting access to news-making events to one department makes ”media handling” a whole lot easier.

It’s all very frustrating as, individually, many Dui Wai Bu journalists have improved markedly over the last two years - it would seem, because of the flawed structure of the organisation and a total lack of management, the department is suffering from a nasty case of antagonism. In this sense, Xinhua can be a depressing place in which to sit as an observer. It’s not all doom and gloom for the journalists themselves of course. There are many benefits to being a Xinhua employee: prestige domestically, opportunity to travel, comprehensive insurance, access to information and job security (you have to be a spy to get sacked round here). But watching some hugely talented, creative people donning shackles every day is not particularly pleasant viewing. Some may argue: “What do they expect? Their role is to spread governmental love.” But I have met numerous graduates (Xinhua only employs fresh-faced university students so they have no time to develop any style other than “Xinhua-style”), who have joined Xinhua and, after a few months work, almost all have admitted the job is very different to what they anticipated - and not in a positive way.

A few people have emailed me and asked why I haven’t been sacked for writing this blog. I certainly should have been and I would never argue that my actions have been anything other than unprofessional. I nearly did get the boot following this post on the “Homer Simpson and the peanut brain” incident. The bosses of Xinhuanet were more than a little annoyed by the fact everyone else in the agency was having a good guffaw. By the sound of it, the Dui Wai Bu bosses backed me up for which I am extremely grateful. In a misguided attempt at defending the upkeep of this blog, I think it’s fair to say Xinhua is not your average workplace and there is very little professionalism on display in many quarters of the agency. As a foreigner, you are never included in the day-to-day operation of the department and are never officially told about structural changes that directly affect our work. In fact, foreigners are not directly employed by Dui Wai Bu - that’s the role of the Foreign Affairs department. Instead, we rely on the “reporters” themselves to supply us with a steady drip of information and we fit the pieces together. Also, there are a few Chinese colleagues in Dui Wai Bu who keep blogs - one put an internal Xinhua document on his website (I won’t embarrass with a link). It landed him and his entire section - collective punishment is favoured - a hefty fine. Last year, the leaders issued a regulation requiring any journalist with a blog to register it with the higher authorities. I was not informed.

Anyway, enough of defending the indefensible. Why was I allowed to carry on writing it?

1) I was writing in English so therefore off the radar of the leaders.

2) Who cares what a foreigner thinks about state media censorship anyway? (maybe this should be number one) It’s only a blog with a limited readership after all. Now if I had landed a column in the New York Times …

3) People in Dui Wai Bu are very open-minded - I have been amazed at how many people have supported it. I was even told some posts were used as training tools for new graduates. Some people really disapproved of it but I never experienced any open hostility.

4) One polishing comrade suggested it would be more embarrassing to sack me than to leave me be. I’m not sure about this one - if editors did think this way, they were misguided. The “I was sacked from Xinhua” post would have done the rounds on the blogosphere and then that would have been that.

5) I didn’t mention the spying scandal or the mini-Mandelson episode.

Anyway, enough of this self-indulgent behaviour. I could bore for hours on this subject as has become apparent by the length of this post. A quick note of thanks to my Dui Wai Bu comrades - thanks for putting up with me for two years and I hope things improve before all your hair turns grey. It’s been fun. I’m booked onto the Hong Kong-bound train tomorrow and not returning to Beijing for a month. Will probably continue to post a couple of things over the coming week.

Three years ago on Thursday, January 17, Zhao Ziyang died at the age of 85 while still under the house arrest that had been imposed 15 years earlier for his sympathetic approach to the Tiananmen Square protests. Human Rights in China released a report yesterday saying Li Jinping, who has dedicated a room in his Beijing home to the memory of the former Premier, was receiving an extra dose of police harrassment as the anniversary drew near. All this inspired me to spend my day - some might say idly if they are judging me on polishing prolificacy - reading how the last moments of Zhao’s political life, and subsequently his actual life, were reported to the world by Xinhua’s English service. I suppose this is old ground for some but I thought it was interesting anyway.

We pick up the story on May 18, 1989:

General Secretary Zhao Ziyang, Premier Li Peng and other two members of the standing committee of the political bureau of the Chinese Communist Party Central Committee, went to two local hospitals early this morning to visit students who have been on hunger strike and receiving medical treatment.

They wished the students an early recovery.

Reaffirming the patriotic spirit of the students, the Party leaders said that the students’ enthusiasm for democracy and legality, opposing corruption and promoting reform was “highly commendable”. The Party Central Committee attaches great importance to and will earnestly study their reasonable demands in a bid to improve the Party and government work.

Zhao said the Party, the government and the students have common goals and they have no fundamental conflicting interests. He urged the students not to resort to hunger strike, saying there are many ways to exchange views and solve problems.

“You are still young and have a long way ahead for you to contribute your shares to the Chinese nation and our country,” Zhao told the students. “You must take good care of yourselves.”

The next day at dawn, accompanied by Li Peng, Zhao made his famous coded plea to the students to leave the square. Xinhua reported the following: (polishers do not seem to have been involved in these unless Xinhua actively employed people lacking the grammar gene during the 80s):

General Secretary Zhao Ziyang and Premier Li Peng arrived at the Tiananmen Square at 04:45 this morning to visit the hunger-striking students there.

Yesterday morning the hunger strikers moved into buses to seek shelter from the rain.

When the two leaders approached their buses, the students shouted: “Comrade Ziyang has come.” “Comrade Li Peng has come.” Many of them clapped their hands. Others stretched their arms through the widow (window) and shook hands with Zhao and Li.

Zhao entered one of the buses where he shook hands with the hunger strikers and said hello to them.

“We’ve come too late,” Zhao told the students. “You have good intentions. You want the country to become better. The problems you have raised will eventually be resolved. But things are complicated and there must be a process to resolve these problems.”

He added: “You’ve been on hunger strike for six or seven days. The whole of Beijing is discussing it. The Party and the government hope you will become calm and stop hunger strike immediately. The Party and government will not stop trhe dialogue with you when you put an end to hunger strike.”

Li urged the students to stop hunger strike and go back to campuses.

It was his last public appearance. The Economist wrote this opening paragraph shortly after Zhao’s death in 2005 about it:

AT DAWN on May 19th 1989, when the pro-democracy protests in Beijing’s Tiananmen Square were at their height and looking like a serious threat to Chinese Communist Party rule, the party’s leader, Zhao Ziyang, suddenly appeared among the protesting students. Addressing them tearfully through a megaphone, he said he had come “too late”. He did not say what he meant but, in the coded language of Chinese political rhetoric, his message was abundantly clear. He had come too late to save the demonstrators—and he wanted them to leave the square before it was too late for them. The next day, martial law was declared in Beijing. Fifteen days later, with the protesters still ignoring Mr Zhao’s warning, soldiers from the People’s Army opened fire on them, killing hundreds.

Six days later, a Chinese foreign ministry spokesman assured the international press corps that Zhao was still the general secretary of the CPC Central Committee, a line similar to the dreaded vote of confidence that terrifies football managers. And then silence from Xinhua for three and a half weeks (due to orders from the propaganda department rather than the fact Xinhua reporters had staged a protest and a mini-strike in the compound of the news agency following the events of June 4). On June 16, NBC was treated to an interview with a State Council spokesman, which was reported by Xinhua a full day later. So much for the state news agency having all the government access. The spokesman refused to refer to Zhao by name.

“A certain individual in the top leadership erred in supporting riots,” Yuan Mu, spokesman of the State Council, told the National Broadcasting Company (NBC) of the United States yesterday.

In an exclusive interview, when NBC’s anchorman Tom Brokaw asked whether General Secretary Zhao Ziyang is out of his job and whether the Party has a new general secretary, Yuan said that the recent meeting between senior leader Deng Xiaoping and commanders of the martial law enforcement troops in Beijing “tells the entire world that the Chinese leadership is stable. It is true that a certain individual in the top leadership erred in supporting riots. The problem will be dealt with and made public soon.”

Asked whether Zhao Ziyang will be put to trial, Yuan Mu said that “the problem is one within the Party and will be dealt with in accordance with the Party constitution.”

A week later, Zhao was dismissed from his posts. A report delivered by Li Peng on behalf of the political bureau included the following:

At the critical juncture involving the destiny of the Party and the State, the communique noted, Zhao Ziyang made the mistake of supporting the turmoils and splitting the Party, and he had unshirkable responsibilities for the shaping-up of the turmoils. The nature and consequences of his mistakes are very serious, it added.

Although Zhao did something beneficial to the reform, the opening of China to the outside world and the economic work when he held leading posts in the Party and the government, he obviously erred in guide lines and practical work. Especially after taking charge of the work of the CPC Central Committee, he took a passive approach to the adherence to the four cardinal principles and opposition to bourgeois liberalization, and gravely neglected party building, cultural and ethical development and ideological and political work, causing serious losses to the cause of the Party, the communique said.

The following month, Zhao Ziyang was blamed for the increasing corruption among corruption officials:

The State Council spokesman Yuan Mu blamed Zhao Ziyang for increasing corruption on the part of Party and government officials.

Asked why, at a news briefing held here this morning, there was so much corruption in the Party and government, Yuan said it was hard to explain in a few minutes, but, he added, “our ex-general secretary should be held responsible for the worsening problem”.

I presume someone in Xinhua was trying to give the comments a ludicrous tinge but you never know. In August, a signed article appeared in the Guangming Daily under the headline “How did comrade Zhao Ziyang cripple the political and ideological work of the Party?” and was reported by Xinhua. Far better to convey stinging criticism through commentaries written by invisible propaganda bods rather than through the dulcet tones of senior officials.

 Zhao Ziyang’s errors in the field of political and ideological work are not accidental, they have a deep social and historical background, and Zhao himself has faulty ideological roots. Bascially this stems from his inability to stand the test of the reform and open-door policies. We should take further steps to expose and criticise comrade Zhao’s errors, so that the political and ideological work of the Party can be strengthened.

The following month, Jiang Zemin was much more friendly. He said Zhao was still “leading a quite comfortable life” (quite as in bloody marvellous rather than so-so, I think) and quipped: “Comrade Zhao Ziyang has a longer record in serving the Party, so I think he enjoys better life treatment than I do.” While admitting Zhao had done “something beneficial”, he said he “erred in implementing concrete policies”. He also noted, “The consistent policy of the Party Central Committee is that when a Party member commits mistakes, his life should not be affected,” Jiang noted.

In November, Xinhua reported comments from Li Peng’s interview with Die Welt more than two weeks after it was published because the text took a while to be released officially in China. Li said if Zhao “can correct his mistakes by actual deed, we will welcome it”.

Skip forward to April 4, 1990, and Li Peng says Zhao “is a free man now living in his home in Beijing”. Then leap ahead to October 10, 1992 with this statement from Xinhua:

The examination and investigation into the mistakes Zhao Ziyang made during the political turmoils in 1989 has been completed, and the conclusion on his mistakes made by the fourth plenary session of the 13th Central Committee of the Communist Party of China is maintained.

And that’s the last we hear of Zhao until January 16, 2005 when Xinhua turns out a three-line report:

Zhao Ziyang has lately suffered from an illness recurrence and his physical condition has stabilized after careful treatment, Xinhua learned Sunday afternoon.

Zhao is still receiving continued careful treatment at the moment.

A day later, four simple lines. No mention of the fact he used to be Premier. Just a comrade.

Comrade Zhao Ziyang died of illness in a Beijing hospital Monday. He was 85.

Comrade Zhao had long suffered from multiple diseases affecting his respiratory and cardiovascular systems, and had been hospitalized for medical treatment for several times. His conditions worsened recently, and he passed away Monday after failing to respond to all emergency treatment.

His death was not reported on Chinese television and according to Wikipedia ahem (it’s late at night and I’m tired), Chinese newspapers all carried the same 59-word obituary on the day after his death. Mourners posted praise on Internet forums which were deleted. The BBC reported:

Zhao’s daughter Wang Yannan said Zhao died “peacefully”, adding: “He is free at last.”

Zhao’s son Liang Fang told Reuters news agency that “national leaders” visited Zhao in hospital before his death.

It was “not convenient” to reveal their identities, Mr Liang said.

Speculation built over the likely nature of Zhao’s funeral. David Shambaugh, author of “The Making of a Premier: Zhao Ziyang’s Provincial Career”, delivered some suggestions via the International Herald Tribune, which never looked remotely realistic:

Since Zhao was a disgraced ex-leader, there is no good reason for the current leaders to convene a formal memorial, and they have every incentive to play down his passing. But if President Hu Jintao & Co. are politically savvy and serious about instituting real political reforms, this would be a good way to signal it. They have offered some indications in recent months that they are inclined to move ahead with limited political reforms in order to strengthen the one-party system. That is exactly what Zhao was trying to do in the late 1980s.

If Hu and Prime Minister Wen Jiabao (who was standing behind Zhao in his last public appearance in Tiananmen Square in 1989) seek to send such a signal, they can do so by drawing on Zhao’s reformist contributions and the fact that he remained a Communist Party member to his death.

The final act came on January 29. Zhao was cremated at the Babaoshan Revolutionary Cemetery in western Beijing. The highest-ranking official to attend was Jia Qinglin, fourth in line to the throne. The Xinhua report, which did not linger on details, said Zhao had made “contributions to the cause of the Party and the people”. The next line said, “In the political turbulence which took place in the later spring and early summer of 1989, Comrade Zhao committed serious mistakes.” Over and out.

Being a troublesome Westerner, I’ll end with the words of Zhao’s former secretary, as reported in the New York Times:

Mr. Zhao’s former secretary, Bao Tong, who spent seven years in prison and still lives under government surveillance, said the 16-year isolation of Mr. Zhao was a “showcase of shame” for the Chinese Communists, whose “attempts to conceal the truth about the past only serve to reveal their weaknesses and their shamelessness”…

…The party’s determination to restrict Mr. Zhao’s freedom when he was alive - and perhaps the minimal rites granted him after his death - are part of a “systematic effort to erase Zhao Ziyang’s name from history,” Mr. Bao said.

I think I’ll devote this post to lavishing praise on a fine story released by Xinhua yesterday. Admittedly, it was of particular interest to your blogging slave given my flirtation with horse racing journalism before coming to China.

BEIJING, Jan. 10 (Xinhua) — The Chinese mainland could see its first official bet placed on a horse race since the Communist Party came to power in 1949 as early as next year.

The central government has approved the establishment of regular horse racing in Wuhan, capital of central China’s Hubei Province, and is mulling over the introduction of gambling on the races in 2009.

The races would be held at the Orient Lucky City racecourse in Wuhan in September this year, according to a senior manager with the Orient Lucky Horse Group Cooperation, who did not want to be named.

The announcement is being seen as the beginning of gambling on horse racing on the Chinese mainland.

This story had to be approved by the people upstairs before its release although the big potatoes, as the chieftans are often called in the Xinhua newsroom, only saw the unedited version. When I received the story, it had been peppered with the phrase “horse racing lotteries”, seemingly to play down the implications of legalizing organized gambling on horse racing, which was outlawed in 1949. The writer was concerned about my insertion of the word “gambling” because of its negative connotations - officially the Communist Party still regards the practice as more depraved than the debauched hugging craze that threatened to suck all the morals out of Shanghai in 2006. Thankfully, it remained and I was surprised the headline, “China hints at legalization of gambling on horse racing” (which is perfectly true of course) was allowed to stay. Other releasers, the kind that spontaneously combust when they see the words ”censor” or “protest” regardless of context, would have butchered the story.

Wuhan’s Changjiang Times (I suppose the English name is actually Yangtze Times) reported that betting would accompany the beginning of racing in September. I’m not sure if the newspaper was wrong or the manager of the Orient Lucky Horse Group was being more cautious when speaking to Xinhua but it seems punt-hungry Chinese will have to wait until 2009.

The Changjiang Times newspaper in Wuhan reported that betting will be launched alongside horse racing in September.

However, the manager told Xinhua betting on the races would probably not be introduced on a trial basis until 2009.

“Initially about 250 horses from different jockey clubs around the country will participate in the races,” said the manager, “but betting can only be officially launched when the races draw at least 2,000 horses.”

“The proposal of betting on horse racing is being reviewed and discussed but there is no concrete information on when or whether it will begin,” a spokeswoman with the China Sports Lottery Administration Center (CSLC) surnamed Fang told Xinhua by telephone.

I was wondering how long it would take before the government could no longer justify placing morality above money. From super casinos in Macau to cockfights in Yunnan to a dice game inolving cumbersome wooden blocks, a different animal painted on each side, in farmers’ markets in Guizhou, the Chinese love a good gamble. Just ask those excitable grannies in the branch of China Minzu Securities opposite Xinhua’s west gate that bet on cards when the stock exchange is on its lunch break. The money being wafted under the government’s collective nose is huge, plus the theory that illegal gambling will be a thing of the past:

Qin Zunwen, an expert in the study of horse racing betting, said the business, once fully operational nationwide, could create three million jobs a year.

He told the Changjiang Times that annual lottery sales could reach a staggering 100 billion yuan (13.7 billion U.S. dollars), yielding 40 billion yuan in tax revenues,

“Offering a legal venue to bet on horse races could drive out illegal online gambling,” he added.

This article on Bloodhorse.com makes an important point:

It has been estimated that about 600 billion yuan (US$82.5 million) leaves the mainland each year for gambling in offshore casinos and racecourses.

The article goes on to provide reaction from the Hong Kong Jockey Club:

The Hong Kong Jockey Club was cautiously optimistic over the move last night, with chief executive Winfried Engelbrecht-Bresges describing it as “a positive development, if the report proves to be correct.”

He did say, however, that HKJC had given the Wuhan Jockey Club the rights to duplicate the HKJC’s book of rules to give the new racing industry a proper legal and policy framework. Engelbrecht-Bresges also said the Jockey Club would consider helping the WJC and the central government set up racing, if it were asked, provided the club was convinced there was a commitment to creating something of real quality and value.

Engelbrecht-Bresges said the Hong Kong Jockey Club had an internationally recognized brand name that had to be protected, and that any potential association with racing on the mainland would have to be on the basis that the project would be of “the highest standard.”

Interest among the public in Wuhan is already there:

A survey conducted by the Hubei Academy of Social Sciences revealed that 83.3 percent of the Wuhan residents believed the introduction of betting would have a positive social impact, and 51 percent of the respondents said they were “interested” or “very interested” in gambling on the races.

This news will no doubt come of great interest to Hong Kong businessman Chung Yun Pun, who funded the establishment of a racecourse in the suburbs of Beijing in 2002 at a cost of $100m, only for it to close down late in 2005. The government had shown no sign of lifting the ban on gambling and without bettting revenues, the racecourse could not survive. The Guardian reported that around 600 horses were culled. I have heard that a breeding program has continued quietly at the Beijing track so if the Wuhan trial is a success, horse racing in Beijing could be up and running again in a couple of years or so.

With a fortnight in the UK came an almost total (self-imposed and needed) disconnection from the China news mill and blogosphere. The sense of detachment was magnified by the fact news coverage over the Christmas period was of course dominated by Pakistan or Kenya. The two China-related stories I did stumble across when dipping into my real ale accompaniment of choice, The Guardian, were the beheaded tiger tale and news that the dam project at the Tiger Leaping Gorge had been scrapped.

In hindsight (a quick flick through Google News), it was remarkable that I managed to come into contact with the important and welcome announcement that one of the most visually stunning parts of China will not be submerged in Yangtze river water. The story sneaked past all the major news agencies busily preparing their year-end ”Best Of” pieces and appeared to be broken by the Guardian on December 29. Subsequently, it was picked up by United Press International and that’s about it in terms of news outlets. It goes to show what happens when the Big Three (AP, Reuters and AFP) are not on hand to spoon feed. Fortunately, blogging provided valuable assistance in spreading the word (shameless support of the craft I know, but it’s true) with Go Kunming and Shanghaiist following up.

In fact, the South China Morning Post broke the story more than a week earlier on December 20. The Hong Kong newspaper does itself no favours in terms of reputation by shielding its online stories behind a paywall. As a result, its ability to pick up regular exclusives is often overlooked. The Chinese Publicity Department’s favourite Tibetan website Phayul.com quotes chunks of the SCMP report though, drawing attention to the Yunnan provinicial government’s gag on the local media about the Tiger Leaping Gorge affair:

“Muzzled in its reporting of the controversial project over the past two years, local media have been told not to report the scrapping of the dam proposal,” SCMP noted.

On one hand, it seems strange the local government is so reluctant to play up the fact it has mulled over the deeply unpopular dam proposal, taken the local people’s concerns into consideration and decided for the good of mankind to ditch the idea. They wouldn’t even have to admit that the tourist revenue generated by the Tiger Leaping Gorge was a major factor in their decision. It is a sharp turnaround in intention. When I visited the gorge last April, the owner of Sean’s Guesthouse, located along the hiking trail, had already resigned himself to the project definitely going ahead and suggested the high population of bulldozers in the area was because of preliminary work on the dam - and not the huge quarry nearby.

However, given the local media have been prevented from discussing the project in recent years, it would be strange if the issue just popped up again in print. Also, any hint that the government has given into public opposition could be seized upon by the people living at the next proposed site. Phayul quotes SCMP as saying:

The new location, which had yet to be chosen from three options available, is expected to displace some 20,000 people; SCMP reported sources as saying.

As far as cold, hard figures go, 20,000 people beats the 100,000 set to be relocated by the Tiger Leaping Gorge dam. I wonder if all these 100,000 people actually know they are staying in the area. I remember some friends learning that a decision to replace their house with a new runway at Stansted Airport (recognised as London’s third airport - although a world away from London - for the benefit of non-UK readers) had been overturned through the Herts and Essex Observer. Yunnan residents, on this occasion, do not have such a luxurious form of communication.

Returning to Xinhua after a two-week break always brings the stagnancy of the office atmosphere back to the foreground. I’m relieved to be leaving although I cringed when I explained why I was abandoning a well-paid job to the taxi driver (he established my salary early on, which I halved out of embarrassment) who picked up me from my night shift yesterday. “I need a change,” I said. The guy drives taxis from 10am to 2am every day seven days a week and only sees his wife in bed between 2.30 am and 7.30am, when she gets up to go to work. That’s better than never seeing your wife in bed at all, but still.

Two stories grabbed my attention at Xinhua in recent days, the rest just drifted onto my screen and off to the releasers’ desk without me noticing I had edited them. The world’s media has naturally been spewing out Top Ten Moments of 2007 and thankfully Xinhuanet.com (Chinese version) was no exception. The popular news portal, as I think it is described, gave the country’s netizens the chance to vote for their favourite domestic news story of the year. Naturally, the Party Congress came in first.

BEIJING, Jan. 4 (Xinhua) — The successful staging of the 17th National Congress of Communist Party of China has been selected by the country’s netizens as the top domestic news in 2007, Xinhuanet.com said on Friday.

About 800,000 Internet users voted for news items on 38 major news websites across the country, including People.com.cn, China.com.cn, cctv.com and Xinhuanet.com.

“China succeeds in its first moon-probing mission” came second and “China’s National Congress passes Property Law” was the third, according to Xinhuanet.com, which posted the top ten news events on its website on Friday.

The major news events were selected by Internet users from a pool of 20 items, an executive with Xinhuanet.com told Xinhua. The executive declined to provide information on detailed voting results.

The top three international news stories were: “World oil price close to 100 U.S. dollars a barrel”, “U.S. sub-prime mortgage market crisis shakes global financial market” and “National theme years fuel momentum for Sino-Russian cooperation.”

Clearly the most important piece of information came in the fourth paragraph, which wasn’t included in the Chinese version. A “panel of experts”, chose their top 20 for netizens to get stuck into, removing any references to cardboard dumplings, fake tigers and the slave trade. What the story doesn’t mention is that voters were required to pick 15 out of the 20 provided for them. The 15 most popular choices were then rearranged according to the “panel’s” preference. Maybe Will Hutton was right to hyperbolise the Congress’ importance last October. Or maybe he wasn’t.

The other story of interest goes a long way in reflecting the comprehensive - and often insensitive - nature of China’s tourism drive in Tibet.

LHASA, Jan. 5 (Xinhua) — Tibetan authorities are beginning restoration work on former residences and office buildings of some of the first Communist Party members to be sent to Tibet in the early 1950s, which have been turned into “revolutionary” tourist attractions.

“The government has worked out a list of the revolutionary sites which need restoring and the second list is soon to be submitted,” said an official with the Tibetan Regional CPC Committee.

Money will be spent on sprucing up buildings used by the PLA as they “liberated” Tibet in 1951 and the site used for the first branch of the Communist Party in a Tibetan village in 1959. I feel the following line from a local official will be hard for the majority of Tibetans to swallow:

“By visiting the buildings, people can experience the hard times that their forefathers had to pull through and the sacrifices they made so that we can be inspired to treasure the peace and prosperity we have today.”

I remarked to the translator of this article that Tibetans would absolutely love that paragraph. Recognising that a foreigner was making a typically snide Tibet-related remark, she quickly snapped back, “Well it’s not for the native people and the majority of people in Tibet are Chinese, Han Chinese.” According to the census in 2000, 92.8 percent of the population of the Tibet Autonomous Region were Tibetan. It’s always worrying when some journalists have so little knowledge about a place they write about on an almost daily basis.

Following a request for a photograph
of my new PLA calendar, I give you
Miss January.