Graying hair

An editorial in the New York Times on Sunday by Matthew Forney asks why educated young Chinese have an “unquestioning support of their government.” Forney writes, “The most obvious explanation for this is the education system, which can accurately be described as indoctrination.” Yet if this is the case, why are the most fervent young nationalists educated youth, most of whom can speak English, and many of whom have traveled abroad? Whenever youth rise up in any country, it’s common to claim they are “brainwashed” by some higher power—just think of reactions to the 1960s protests around the world—but such a simplistic explanation is way off the mark. It implies that China’s nationalists can’t think for themselves, and it implies that they are being effortlessly manipulated by China’s leaders.

In thinking about why Chinese nationalists wholeheartedly support their government when it comes to Tibet, it would be more helpful to think about the framework in which that support is expressed than to focus on some kind of indoctrination. Arguments I've had with Chinese nationalists display a deep-seated sensitivity towards criticism by outsiders. To expats it is clear the government is a liar and a cheat. But what is really infuriating is not the government itself, which merely provides a handy focus of irritation, but people’s reactions to it. After all, everyone in China knows the media is controlled, but few people care when it comes to Tibet.

Of course the government dissembles, hides truths, stokes nationalism, and all the rest (thinks the American visitor)—that’s what governments do. The idea of the Bush administration governing during the last seven-plus years without strong, reasonable voices in the media countering government mistruths is so horrifying that it’s impossible for many Americans to contemplate. Yet in China, visitors from the United States encounter just that kind of one-sided correlation between government and civil society. Jeremiah Jenne, among others, has pointed out that the contemporary Chinese relationship between the state and civil society is very different than it is in Euro-America—in China, the “state” and the “people” (both very slippery concepts) are often conflated. In the U.S., however, they are constantly in tension. (That’s why Americans often find the idea of communism—in which the government always and automatically acts in the best interests of the people—so wacky). When an American in China makes a complaint about the Chinese government, she expects a local to either agree or disagree—that is, to engage in a debate within the framework of civil society/government tension. She assumes that the “state” and the “people” are separate, and a member of the latter can choose to agree with the policies of the former, or not. When, instead, the Chinese person becomes offended that a foreigner is criticizing “China,” the debate often descends into simplistic arguments about which country is “better,” and the poor American finds herself trying to defend her country’s politics, which is certainly no easy feat.

Thus during the snowstorms at the beginning of the year many Chinese were quick to point out the atrocious American response to Hurricane Katrina. During the Tibetan protests, many Chinese brought up historical American treatment of Native Americans or African Americans (but, I should add, never American treatment of Japanese during World War II—that’s one I’m still waiting to hear). Indeed, China’s relationship to Tibetans has a lot of similarities to the United States’ treatment of Native Americans. Both minorities have been thought of as uncivilized and of needing strong support to progress. In fact, China’s treatment of Tibetans is undoubtedly better—Tibetans, after all, were not forced to leave their land, and they are afforded many social privileges that Han Chinese do not have. Of course, if China’s argument rests on the idea that it treats Tibetans better than the United States treated Native Americans, well, it’s difficult to think of fainter praise.

One of the biggest political differences between the U.S. and China, then, is not the relative benevolence of the two countries’ governments—both have dark pasts and presents—but the ability and willingness of people in those countries to question their governments in the face of obstinacy. In fact, there is no reason to think that, if there were a free press in China, the country would continue to see such one-sided discourse. Historically, this has certainly not been the case, and it is often not the case now. Chinese intellectuals are extremely vibrant; many have spoken out against Chinese policy in Tibet; and, more generally, a large part of the most exciting critical research on contemporary China has been produced by Chinese. Yet these intellectuals have no voice in popular media. Instead, they are replaced by shrill nationalists and pseudo-political scientists who take umbrage whenever a foreigner remarks that, just maybe, the government might be wrong.

My biggest desire is that people on both sides of the issue settle down. Sometimes I have to remind myself to do so as well. I remember something a Middle East politics professor once said in relation to his own topic of anguish: "I worried about Lebanon for years and years," he told us. "But all it got me was a head of gray hairs."

The Ministry of Industry and Informatization

A recent pair of jeans came with a label with a girl in pigtails wearing jeans, a bra, and big, square-shaped glasses. She gives the camera a disdainful glance: she’s a rebel. The label says, “L.d.s. denims. Retro funk. How is the female body shown to SEXY and GLAMOUROUS, or is it felt? WE propose the foundation of GLAMOUROUS LIFE.”

I love these kinds of ads. You can find them everywhere in China: on shirts, on billboards, on bags. Chinese advertisers use their limited English to translate from Chinese, and expats spend a good chunk of their time making fun of them. Usually it’s possible to figure out what the advertisers wanted to say, but sometimes it’s not. (Another favorite says: “BLOOK. God continent row blook. God continent numerous blook. All kinds of blook IP. Move zone.” That’s an advertisement for phone cards, isn’t it obvious?)

Stores will spend vast amounts of money making huge, elaborate signs with atrocious English. In a central part of Shanghai, where thousands of foreigners walk every day, there’s an ad for tourism to Heilongjiang with absolutely terrible English grammar. The prominent location must have cost a bundle: couldn’t the advertiser have taken five minutes of his life to go on the street and ask one of Shanghai’s thousands and thousands of foreigners whether the English was correct? Even top government institutions make these kinds of mistakes. When talking about the telecom industry, the government uses the word “informatization” all the time, which makes perfect sense in Chinese (信息化 xinxihua), but not in English.

At bottom, Chinese ads, in Chinese, are just as stupid as American ones. They use the same tricks: pretty girls, flashy graphics, the assertion that everyone’s doing it! But when they’re translated to English, they become silly, and their purpose is starkly clear, enough to make you cringe. “WE propose the foundation of GLAMOROUS LIFE”: for an English speaker, it’s obvious what they’re trying to do—make you think these pants will make you glamorous—but it’s so silly that it fails miserably.

Because of their (unintended) ability to reveal the tricks and the absurdity that lie behind the logic of advertising, Chinese ads in English are extremely useful. Capitalism in China is more immature than in the U.S. and other advanced capitalist countries, so it is easier to spot marketing strategies. Advertising here, after all, uses the same underlying strategies that accompany consumer capitalism in advanced capitalist societies (just go to the business section of a Chinese bookstore to see where businesspeople are getting their ideas), but when it is done so badly, the silliness is exhibited in full. I’m reminded of an interesting argument in feminist theory, which says that pornography can serve a useful purpose because it puts underlying societal gender relationships on stark, cringe-worthy display; these ads do the same for the logic of consumer capitalism: advertisers must appeal to us in the most simplistic, egocentric ways, invoking our need to feel good about ourselves. Chinese advertisers use the same logic as American advertisers, but do it badly, thus rendering it obvious, funny, and, in a way, harmless.

Kill, kill, kill

On news.sina.com.cn, a popular Chinese news site, readers can leave comments at the end of stories. While looking through the reader comments of a “news” story entitled “The Dalai Lama clique’s efforts to destroy Tibetan social stability are doomed to fail,” two friendly little cartoon police officers trotted across the bottom of my screen and saluted. The java cops informed me that I should “Stay far away from obscene pornography. Advocate a civilized Internet. Refuse to look at vulgar content. Carry forward harmonious progress.”

“Obscene pornography” is clear enough. But vulgar content? What was on my screen, on this mainstream news site, was some of the most vulgar content I've ever seen on the Internet.

Below is a translation of the first screen of the comments that came up on my computer this evening, out of thousands and thousands. I didn't pick and choose the “best” ones, I just translated all the ones on the screen. Some are typically nationalistic (and quite easy to unpack from a historian's point of view); some are simply shocking; and some, like the long one below, may have been written by government big brothers. It would of course be foolish to generalize this sampling as “typical” of China. But it is striking how widespread it is—I've noted the province where each comment originates—and it is surely a scandal that the Dalai Lama and his “clique” have close to zero sympathy in China. On a scale of hating the Dalai Lama to sympathizing with his cause, extremely few Chinese are past the stage of apathy.

The page is obviously censored (meaning absolutely no pro-Tibet comment would get through), but it's shocking that the censors allow so much violent language (from a government that constantly tells its citizens to avoid violent (and pornographic) websites). Reading this, it makes sense why so many Taiwanese are weary, and frightened, of the prospect of unification.

In fact, it's interesting how many of the comments mention Taiwan, even though Taiwan has nothing to do with the current protests in Tibet. For these kinds of Chinese nationalists, all “splittists” are the same: they want to divide the nation, and they should be condemned.

I changed some of the punctuation to fit more closely with typical English style. Some of the phrases sound a bit silly in English—in Chinese they’ve achieved normality in their ubiquity, but I'm not sure if they’re any less silly.


坚决镇压！格杀勿论！
Firmly suppress! Kill on sight with the authority of the law! (Hunan)

我们不怕 - 因为我们是一家人
We are not afraid - because we are all of the same family. (Jiangsu)

杀
Kill (Xinjiang)

对分裂首要分子，严惩不贷，杀无赦
As for the splittist ringleader, [he should be] punished mercilessly, and killed without mercy. (Ningxia)

在打击藏独和台独的势力上,要不惜一切代价,维护祖国的统一,怕啥啊!!!!!!!!!! 有十几亿炎黄子孙做盾牌,我就不信了撒!
When it comes to attacking the influence of Tibetan and Taiwanese independence movements, [we should] not hesitate for any price to safeguard the homeland's unity, fear nothing!!!!!!!!! When over 1 billion descendants of Yan Di and Huang Di [that is, Chinese people] are a shield, I don't believe they could be scattered! (Guangdong)

就一个字“杀！”，这些混球，胆敢乱我中华，杀无赦！杀无赦！
There is only one word, "kill!" These no-good bastards dare to cause chaos in my China, kill without mercy! Kill without mercy! (Sichuan)

中国是一个爱好和平的发展中国家，广大的人民在和平环境中享受着自由和民主，应该好好珍惜这个来之不易的社会环境，刚刚结束的两会又给我们的发展规划了美丽的蓝图，西藏是 一个民族问题早已有之的地区，是我们国家重点扶住的经济不发达地区，刚刚建成的进藏铁路，就是对未来西藏的发展起到积极作用的举措。
我们的国家正在进行经济建设，只有强大的经济和国力，我们才能稳定和安定，达赖一直以来以和平为幌子以西方国家的价值判断，破坏我们的安全，这种民族败类是我们整个民族的 大敌，只有我们保持了高度的警惕，保持了高度的团结，保持了高度的凝聚力，才能彻底的措败达赖的阴谋。

China is a loving and peaceful developed country, a vast people in a peaceful environment who enjoy freedom and democracy, [and should] truly cherish this hard-earned society. The just-concluded National People's Congress has given us a beautiful development blueprint. Tibet is a region with an ethnic minority problem that has existed for a long time; it's a region whose economic development is supported by our country, [for example] the recently finished railroad is an important and positive development for Tibet's future.

Our country is currently building our economy, it has a formidable economy and national strength, and we are stable. The Dalai Lama has continuously used peace as a pretense towards Western countries to destroy our country's security. This kind of minority group scum is the great enemy of our whole nation. We must simply maintain high alert, maintain strong unity, maintain strong cohesion, [and only then] can we thoroughly defeat the Dalai Lama's conspiracy. (Sichuan)

坚决维护祖国统一!对于分裂分子,我们应当坚决予以回击!
Resolutely defend our homeland's unity! As for these splittists, we should resolutely counterattack! (Sichuan)

坚持维护国家统一
Resolutely defend our homeland's unity. (Hebei)

该关就关,该杀就杀,不能手软!
If we must close then let's close [?], if we must kill then let's kill, we mustn't be softhearted! (Shaanxi)

分裂分子就是要杀无赦 统统枪毙
The splittists should be killed without mercy. All executed by shooting. (Hunan)

镇压台独，藏独分子。不能手软
Repress Taiwanese and Tibetan independence activists. Don't be softhearted. (Liaoning)

向在此次事件当中受伤的武警，公安致敬!!!
For the police who are in the middle of this situation and have been injured: pay tribute to the public security [forces]!!! (Jiangxi)

坚决维护国家的安全和统一，反对任何分裂国家的企图
Resolutely defend the homeland's security and unity, oppose any scheme that tries to split the country. (Shanghai)

坚决维护祖国统一,反对分裂分子,严惩叛乱分子,绝不手软!!!!
Resolutely defend the homeland's unity, oppose the splittists, severely punish the armed rebels, never be softhearted!!!! (Anhui)

团结!
Unite! (Sichuan)

维护国家的统一是我们每个中国人的职责!
Defending the country's unity is every Chinese person's duty! (Beijing)

杀光这些危害国家稳定的贱人们！
Kill all these sluts who are harming the stability of the country! (Hainan)

对暴乱闹事的坏分子必需严惩,不能手软!
It is essential to severely punish these rebellious evildoers who are making trouble, [we] cannot be softhearted! (Henan)

坚决打击,绝不手软,露头就打,不留一丝喘气的机会.
Resolutely attack, never be softhearted, [when they] emerge, immediately attack; do not leave behind one opportunity [for them] to keep breathing. (Sichuan)

杀,杀,杀.
Kill, kill, kill. (Zhejiang)

Debating that damn diaspora dilemma

Yesterday I was in a taxi with a couple friends. One of those annoying screens was in my friend’s face – the kind that is attached to the back of the passenger seat and is impossible to turn off (though you can sometimes turn the volume down). I have resorted to covering the damn thing up with a piece of paper when the going really gets tough (such as in one travel show, particularly painful, where a Chinese interviewer asked an American tourist in a European country who was eating some fried street food if she was worried about her weight). Anyway, our taxi’s TV was showing a kind of game show. One of the contestants was a Chinese-American, and he described himself as American. “Oh no!” said my friend (who is Chinese). “He is Chinese, not American!” She proceeded to get rather upset about this, while the two of us looked on, rather bemused. Apparently she was offended by a number of things, including: 1) He opted to describe himself as American rather than Chinese; and 2) His mother apparently didn’t teach him to love his homeland, as she should have done. The idea that someone born and raised in the U.S. should not call himself an American is strange to me; to her, that a (ethnic) Chinese person would not call himself Chinese is what is strange.

As can be expected, the discussion turned to what exactly she believed a Chinese person to be (as far as I could tell it boiled down to race), and, subsequently, what an American believed an American to be (not an easy topic to sum up, but suffice it to say that, for me, inclusion into the “nation” of America does not rely on homogeneity but, to the contrary, includes and embraces diversity).

Chinese newspapers will periodically publish editorials or pseudo-reports exhorting overseas Chinese to come home and help the motherland. However, it is important to remember that the inclusion of the Chinese diaspora in the Chinese nation is not a new phenomenon. Its origin can, at least in the way we understand it today, be traced back to the late 19^th century, when Sun Yatsen and Kang Youwei battled for support from overseas Chinese, especially in America, for their respective nationalist projects (revolutionary versus reformist). During this period Chinese intellectuals were working out just what the Chinese nation was exactly (a never-ending question, but a lot more contested then than it is now), and overseas Chinese were appropriated into the narrative (the fact that many of them were wealthy and could contribute to various revolutionary or reformist projects certainly had something to do with it). What did it mean to be “Chinese” and why were overseas “Chinese” included? Race was a big determinant, and much of the concept of race that became so important in Chinese nationalism had as its origin European notions of social Darwinism and racial superiority. The linkage of geography and nation was important as well. These aspects of Chinese nationalism have been extremely well documented and I won’t get into them here.

One thing I do want to mention is a point that another (Chinese) friend brought up: the Chinese idea of hometown, which, I believe, is much older than the 19^th century, might have also been fused into the messy conceptualization of “nation.” The Chinese word for hometown, laojia, doesn’t really mean hometown, at least not the way English speakers understand it. For me, my hometown is Muncie, Indiana, because that’s where I grew up. For a Chinese person, her laojia is the place of her ancestors, meaning she might never have set foot in it at all. (Wenlin, a Chinese dictionary, has this definition for laojia: “1. Native place; old home; one's original home. 2. Hell.” I’m really not sure how to interpret that last definition. Too much time with the in-laws?) Your laojia is not simply where you grew up. It’s where your grandparents grew up, or even older generations: it is the geographical home of your family. It’s possible that this idea of “hometown” worked its way into the Chinese idea of nation, and into the modern meaning of “homeland” (zuguo).

If local ideas such as laojia did find their way into Chinese nationalism, that might change the scope of the debate somewhat. I do think that, when discussing Chinese nationalism, historians sometimes put too much emphasis on ideas of nation that, more or less, originated in Europe, and it might be worthwhile to spend more time thinking about concepts of community that survived past the dynasties. Only one thing is certain: as a stimulant of lively conversation, those unbelievably irritating TV screens on the backs of passenger seats just might have some use after all.

Beijing

We arrived in Beijing on the evening of Feb. 6, the first day of the Spring Festival. Walking to our hostel was like walking through a war zone. As midnight approached, the city became increasingly ablaze with fireworks (and remained so for several days afterward). There weren't many people on the streets where we were walking... just people setting off an absurd amount of fireworks. The cars didn't seem to care, however. They drove right through the blaze.

I think Peter Hessler is a great writer, probably the best non-academic writer about China I've encountered. However, I've always had trouble relating his stories about China, most of which take place in Beijing or other parts of northern China, to my own experiences in the country. Officials were constantly bothering him, people were always arguing with him about nationalism and which country was better, the US or China. He befriended a Uighur dissident, and was thrown out of hotels numerous times because he was a foreigner or had a reporter's visa. People argued with him about politics. Why did this stuff so rarely happen to me?

When I was in Beijing I had a taste of his China. (I'd been there before, but just for a couple days when I first arrived in China a few years ago.) The city is much more restrictive and tense than Shanghai and other parts of China I've been to. One hotel hadn't yet received a license, apparently required of hotels in Beijing, that would allow them to accept foreign guests. A hostel wasn't allowed to let foreigners and Chinese share a dorm room. The government is too on edge: for the latter restriction, I suppose they're afraid of foreigners telling Chinese about all the things the foreign media obsesses over: human rights, environmental degradation, censored media and internet, the massacre at Tiananmen. Chinese people often have only the vaguest notions of these things, if they do at all, and the government wants to keep it that way.

I realized even more the potential for the Olympics to be very, very ugly. Picture this: on one side, thousands and thousands of foreign reporters entering China (about 20,000, I believe). The ones who are new to China will have brushed up on the country with any news they can find; in foreign reportage, especially in North America, Europe, Australia, etc., that means human rights, censorship, tainted goods, the environment: all the things that the international press loves criticizing China about, and that Chinese people themselves have little idea of. None of these reporters will be content with accepting the news the press conferences give them, or conducting interviews the government sets up. All will work to find the "hidden story" behind what the authorities are telling them—what they're trained to do, and what they will be inclined to do in the midst of the intensely critical attitude foreign journalists typically take towards China.

On the other side, the government. In China, newspapers and other types media all have an appointed censor working with them in their offices. They practice self-censorship; if they don't, heads roll. Things are not as tight as they used to be, but any severe deviation from the party line can mean serious consequences. This is what the government is used to, and it has shown no sign of relaxing its attitude. Recently there has been a crackdown on dissidents, or even on those who simply seek to point out small problems on blogs (a crackdown that the New York Times, and other media, covered with glee). Many of those who will be in charge of dealing with the press have displayed very little knowledge about what foreign reporters will be like; they don't seem to be aware that they may be asked tough questions. (Many such people are members of the communist party, and CCP members are often encouraged to stay in China for their education instead of traveling abroad.) Unless the government decides to change its Internet policy, people will come to China and discover that Wikipedia is blocked, Blogspot is blocked, the BBC is blocked, Voice of America is blocked, and many other sites. In Beijing foreign tourists will confront arbitrary restrictions in relation to hotels, like the ones I encountered, as well as other types of sensitivity. Athletes will stay outside of the city to avoid the pollution and will bring their own food. Meanwhile, the myriad of international groups that are constantly struggling against the Chinese government—people advocating a free Tibet or a free Xinjiang, Taiwanese nationalists, Falun Gong activists, those who want China to put pressure on Burma, Sudan, etc.—will work harder to make themselves heard, and the media will pay more attention to them.

Hopefully I'm exaggerating, but I think the Olympics will be ugly to one extent or another. I fear the recent decision of Stephen Spielberg to drop out of the Olympics, and the subsequent (relatively limited) frenzy, is only the beginning. My advice to all parties—reporters who are out to get China and government officials who panic in the face of criticism:

Take it easy!!