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.