Beijing Newspeak

The foreign ministry official whose signature granted the Economist a week-long reporting trip to Tibet beginning March 12 must be nibbling his nails.  It was an incredibly generous act given the 49th anniversary of the Dalai Lama’s escape into exile fell just two days earlier and those chummy reporting regulations introduced last year for the foreign media do not cover Tibet. Quite spectactular journalistic timing. As a result, the magazine’s correspondent, the only accredited foreign journalist currently in Lhasa, has been adding a bit of firsthand flavour to the news coverage of the BBC and Channel 4 (UK) in addition to writing his Economist piece and stories for the Times. But hang on, maybe I’m not giving the foreign ministry enough credit for its decision making. After all, the magazine’s presence in Lhasa has so far been to China’s advantage; an objective voice (as I’m sure you’d agree if you read the story) which offers an additional - and crucial - source of information to the likes of Radio Free Asia. Those people who like to equate the bias of the “foreign media”, viewing it as a single entity, to the propaganda of Chinese state media, which is a single entity, are urged to read the Economist’s eyewitness account.

Moving off the topic of objectivity for a moment, this story released by Xinhua entitled “Dalai-backed violence scars Lhasa” was a valiant effort at masquerading as an international news agency, if you disregard the headline. Plenty of “witnesses said”, “sources told Xinhua” and “Xinhua reporters learnt”. It’s as if the fax machine belonging to Tibet’s propaganda chieftans was power off. Note to writers (with whom I get on very well): please forgive my playful jesting. From the story, it would appear local authorities in Tibet are having difficulty maintaining an united front, presumably because of the distance between Lhasa and Beijing. On Saturday morning, Xinhua were told to say “police were forced to use a limited amount of tear gas and fired warning shots to disperse the desperate crowds”. About an hour later, the chairman of the Tibet government Qiangba Puncog was speaking on the sidelines of the current parliamentary jolly in the Great Hall of the People. “We fired no gunshots,” he said. He also went on to say something foolish:

In regard to western criticism on human rights in Tibet, he expressed his invitation to the critics. “Seeing is believing. They should go to Tibet themselves to feel the improvements.”

Tourists are currently barred from entering Lhasa, non-Economist foreign correspondents have even less of a chance. It’s also worth noting a regulation was introduced last month which further restricted foreign tourists in Tibet: they are now required to sign up for a tour to visit places in the vicinity of Lhasa, according to a tour company I contacted recently, as well as needing an extra permit to travel deeper into the region.

I seek no forgiveness for lightly spanking this Xinhua commentary, headlined “Stop the hand behind Lhasa terror”, with my well-worn mockery stick. Even I was surprised by the author’s predilection for poetry with his politics. This piece reminded me of the kind of verse I used write in English lessons at the age of 12 when I would toss together a motley assortment of florid, polysyllabic adjectives, as many as my Oxford Young Person’s dictionary would allow, without worrying too much about the meaning. I’m sure my general grammar skills were a tad more proficient though but, hey, what are polishers for. Ah yes, polishers aren’t allowed anywhere near such mighty opuses:

BEIJING, March 15 (Xinhua) — The Nobel laurel was tainted, and the U.S. Congressional Gold Medal proved nothing but a fig leaf of the Dalai Lama when on Friday rioters, backed by the self-proclaimed peace preacher, turned the tranquil holy city of Lhasa into a land of terror.

And the intention harbored behind the monk’s claim of seeking “real or greater autonomy” of Tibet also proved hypocritical when hundreds of his followers yelled independence, attacked police, smashed windows, robbed shops, and set cars and a mosque ablaze.

Yet, this impudent politician did not show any sign of shame when he disassociated himself from the conspiracy as an innocent monk, leaving his followers standing as cat’s paws by persuading them, in a canting manner, “not to resort to violence” reportedly in a statement after the serene abode of the gods was disturbed.

I was under the impression any notion of tranquility and serenity disappeared from Lhasa a long time ago, especially after polishing a few stories about traffic congestion which featured this fine statistic: there are nearly more vehicles per capita in Lhasa than there are in Beijing. Anyway, such a romantic image of Lhasa doesn’t really correspond with the Party line: before Tibet was liberated, it was an oppressive, feudalistic society which needed to be civilised.

Oh go on then, let’s have some more, seeing as some serious enthusiasm has gone into the piece:

When a woman who dared not to step out of her office near a looted and burnt supermarket told me through mobile phone short messages that Lhasa was cloaked in an atmosphere of horror, I believed the hand behind the cat’s paws was a master terror maker.

and:

Now the blaze and blood in Lhasa has unclad the nature of the Dalai Lama, and it’s time for the international community to recheck their stance toward the group under the camouflage of non-violence, if they do not want to be willingly misled.

Stunning.

On a more sympathetic note, this story headlined “Ethnic Han survivors: Tibetan folks saved us”, while painfully obvious in its agenda, does contain an important point that is not coming across in many foreign media reports. Take this excerpt:

The four-storey Landun shopping mall in the old city center, which sold children clothes, was devoured by flames instigated by the horde.

Its owner, Ye Danping, and her 20 Tibetan employees barely survived after scrambling onto the roof of the building. “Some of my local Tibetan employees have been working with me for years, and they offered to protect my commodities in store,” she said.

“My employees and I cried at what we saw and what we experienced. I was shattered when I saw years of hard work was lost to the fire.”

The divide between Chinese and Tibetans in Lhasa is not clear cut and a fair few must be neighbours and friends. There have been reports both from Xinhua and international media of indiscriminate attacks by Tibetan youths on the Han Chinese. Shops have been torched and Xinhua reported ten “innocent civilians” were killed, although that figure is under dispute. From a cold PR point of view if nothing else, the Dalai Lama would do well to keep reminding the wilder Tibetan youths of his opposition to violence, particularly when it is being directed at innocent Chinese. Back to the Economist piece, I thought this paragraph was notable for its poignancy:

As your correspondent spoke to a monk in the backroom of a monastery, a teenage boy rushed in and prostrated himself before him. He was a member of China’s ethnic-Han majority, terrified of the mobs outside. The monk helped him to hide.

Quick aside about something that has just caught my eye … the Guardian website is classifying all its breaking news about Tibet as sports stories. While, undoubtedly related, that’s just Olympics mania gone mad.

Oh, and ridiculous tangent number two … Check out this video clip featuring CCTV-9’s James Aitken reading a Dalai Lama bulletin. Obviously, as a former state media slave myself, I’m in no position in point a finger and mimic Woody Woodpecker. Neither is this kind of thing anything new but for some reason this tickled me more than those tiny fish at spa resorts that are supposed to gnaw off the dead skin on your feet but sometimes stray into the armpit region. I saw many of these Dalai Lama criticisms, all identical of course, at Xinhua but they were just routine words on a screen, incapable of commanding even fleeting attention. It was an absolute pleasure, then, to see them take on a life of their own with some artful news-reading-style word emphasis. I hate to sound terribly British but I particularly enjoyed the delivery of “distort facts”.

Defiant Tibetans, annual U.S. human rights reports and asthma-suffering marathon runners; China is getting it from all sides. But a modicum of pity did come last week from a most unlikely source: the dear old BBC, whose website is famously blocked in China unless you go to the outrageously inconvenient lengths of typing the word “vote” in the browser (ie newsvote.bbc.co.uk for the uninitiated).

I’m referring to the first episode of BBC4’s A Year in Tibet documentary that was screened about ten days ago under the title “The Visit”, revolving around an official visit to a monastery in Gyantse, western Tibet, of Gyaltsen Norbu, the Chinese-approved Panchen Lama . It provoked a furious response, covered by the Guardian’s media pages, from the Free Tibet campaign. Anne Holmes, the director of the campaign, said the programme was a “grievous misrepresentation” of the Panchen Lama issue as it failed to discuss the disappearance of Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, who was selected by the Dalai Lama as Tibet’s 11th Panchen Lama in May 1995. The six-year-old and his family went missing soon after and have not been heard from since. Human rights groups contend that Nyima is under house arrest; Chinese officials say he and his family are being kept in a secret location for their protection. This what Holmes argued:

In her letter (to the BBC 4 controller), Holmes said the programme made no mention of Nyima’s disappearance and did not explain that “for Tibetans there are two Panchen Lamas - Gendun Choekyi Nyima, the real Panchen Lama, and Gyaltsen Norbu, the Chinese Panchen Lama or Panchen Zuma (’false’ Panchen Lama)”.

Holmes added that the programme would leave viewers with the “impression that Tibetans have accepted Gyaltsen Norbu as the 11th Panchen Lama and as their spiritual leader”, but said this was “simply not true”.

“Unprecedented access should not mean agreeing to film an event stage-managed by the Chinese authorities and presenting less than half the story as the truth,” she added.

“Tragically, in its wish to record a photogenic and unique series on Tibet in Olympics year, the BBC has fallen into China’s trap and misrepresented the deeply held beliefs of the Tibetan people.”

The counter argument went as follows:

A BBC spokeswoman defended the programme, saying it was an observational documentary on ordinary Tibetans and not a “detailed examination of its history or politics”.

“As is made clear from the outset, the purpose of A Year In Tibet, as an observational documentary, is to learn more about the every day lives of real people living in Tibet today; it is not intended as a detailed examination of its history or politics,” the spokeswoman added.

“In the film we witness the preparations of monks before a visit by the Panchen Lama Gyaltsen Norbu and in this scene we repeatedly refer to the controversy surrounding Norbu’s appointment. We leave the audience to draw its own conclusions about the way the Chinese government functions in Tibet.”

I was delighted to hear I could watch the programme myself thanks to http://www.uknova.com/ as recommended by a former polishing comrade and fellow Brit. He has managed to cling onto sanity by creating an alternative Beijing life governed by episodes of Eastenders and Grange Hill.

The documentary, which is beautifully shot by the way, features a hotel owner’s battle with his blocked drains, a pregnant mother with a suspected penchant for the local firewater and a shamen who banishes evil spirits by spitting on his patients’ faces. But the main thread, and the most intriguing, of the first epsiode was the preparations for Norbu’s visit by the monks of the monastery in Gyantse.

At the beginning of the film, the deputy head lama is asked to organise the “most important event in Gyantse for a generation” - Norbu’s visit. The narrator then says, “It is effectively a state visit by the most senior Buddhist living in China today but the security surrounding the visit is so tight that the authorities won’t even tell the monks which day he is coming.” Now would seem like a good idea to put the Panchen Lama in political context. But it cuts to the deputy Lama talking: “It is rare for the Panchen Lama, the leading Lama in Tibet, to visit the Baiju monastery. I was still an ordinary monk when the previous Panchen Lama last came. I think that was in 1989.” Interestingly, he makes no distinction between the previous Panchen Lama selected by Tibet and Norbu, chosen by the Communist Party.

The narrator then says: “The 11th Panchen Lama was only six when the Chinese declared that he was Tibet’s new spiritual leader and his position has been very controversial since. The inevitable tensions surrounding his visit are going to make Tsultrim’s (deputy lama) job even more difficult over the next few weeks.” Bizarrely, that’s it. Why the controversy? Why the tension? If you had no knowledge of the Panchen Lama saga, you would be very confused.

Forty minutes later, cue spooky music and images of the Chinese police. The narrator: “The atmosphere in town is tense. The relationship between the monasteries and the government has always been strained. The authorities are worried that somebody might sabotage the visit so they’re taking no chances.” Cut to grinning monks being briefed by Chinese security chief about arrangements for the visit and then suddenly we’re back at the hotel owner’s sodding blocked drains (from the stuff that’s being removed from the pipes it would appear someone shaved an entire yak and flushed the trimmings down the toilet). Why would someone sabotage the Panchen Lama’s visit? the uninformed viewer is asking. Still no answer.

Ten minutes later, the narrator again: “It’s almost 20 years since the previous Panchen Lama made a visit to Gyantse and today is a rare public appearance of the new Panchen Lama.” Spooky music returns as bags are searched by police. “Gyantse has never seen security at this level before.” And then the wait for enlightenment is over …

Narrator: “It’s all because of the controversy that surrounds the choice of the new Panchen Lama.”

But no! Denied! Cut to young monk getting dressed. Two minutes later, the explanation finally arrives:

 ”Gyaltsen Norbu is the 11th Panchen Lama and he’s now 17 years old. In the past the new Panchen Lama was selected from a list of several candidates by the Dalai Lama. But the Chinese government rejected the Dalai Lama’s choice and appointed one of the other candidates. And this is what the controversy is all about. Gyaltsen Norbu also happens to be the son of two Tibetan Communist Party members.

Gyaltsen Norbu has been living in Beijing since the age of six, all part of his “education” (quotation marks reflect word emphasis) to be Tibet’s new spiritual leader … Despite heavy censorship in the country, ordinary Tibetans know all about the controversy surrounding the choice of their young leader. But, as good Buddhists, they accept the situation and show appropriate respect, even to a Panchen Lama of doubtful origins … But whatever the controversy surrounding the young Panchen Lama, the devotion of ordinary Tibetan people is clear to see and there is little doubt that today is a very special one for the people of Gyantse.

The narrator then tells us it is traditional for monks to make a wish after being blessed by the Panchen Lama. The head lama has three: “That Buddha’s teaching may flourish, that people enjoy peace and happiness, and that our People’s Republic of China will become more propserous.”

And that’s it - fascinating stuff but ultimately a total and utter rejection of journalistic principles by the programme’s producers. Firstly, there is absolutely no mention of abduction. Secondly, they failed to ask monks and local residents a raft of obvious and essential questions. What do they think about the puppet Panchen and his visit? Is he a puppet or is that a disrespectful term? What do they think about the hordes of policemen, plainclothes PSB etc that are accompanying the Panchen? Where do they think Gedhun Choekyi Nyima is now? What is life like under Chinese rule? What’s good about it? What’s bad about it? Why are the monks so visibly delighted to be kissing up to the authorities when relations are supposed to be strained (and this would have been asked before Lhasa started burning)?

The thing is, the Tibetan people did look genuinely delighted to have the opportunity to meet Norbu. Lines of residents giggled at the metal detectors, strained for a first glimpse of the Panchen when waiting for their blessing and clutched photos of him which were being handed out by the monks. The viewer is desperate to understand the reasons for these reactions but analysis was absent. 

The BBC’s justification was woefully inadequate. The documentary’s purpose was to learn about the everyday lives of Tibetan people and “not a detailed examination of history or politics”, it said. But surely a huge part of Tibetans’ daily lives is influenced by what has happened in the past and the current political climate. The documentary says as much itself. After just 30 seconds of the programme, the narrator said, “For some Tibetans, the harsh reality of living cheek by jowl with the Chinese is a daily experience.” Maybe in return for subservient journalism, the Chinese government could consider removing the need to add “vote” into our BBC web addresses.

PS I just have to highly recommend Mutant Palm’s coverage of the fascinating Tibet tweeting going on over the weekend. I have to confess I’m new to this tweeting malarkey but I’m going to give it a try. Every so often a post is written that just emphasises the beauty of blogging and this is one of those occasions.