In a microblog post yesterday, Hu Xijin (胡锡进), the editor-in-chief of the Global Times newspaper, voiced outrage at the accusations of widespread hacking made by Google against China. He suggested that China too has suffered unconscionable online attacks, and that China’s government, rather than remaining quiet, should speak up about these issues — thereby shutting the mouths of China’s detractors in the West.
Hu Xijin’s microblog post has apparently been transformed into the lead editorial of today’s Global Times. In it, the paper slams Google as a “snotty-nosed” crybaby blaming China for these supposed attacks because it remains bitter about the company’s business failures in China.
But the piece also has strong words for China’s government, urging again that the authorities tackle these and other accusations — including those surrounding artist Ai Weiwei (艾未未) — directly, actively “setting the agenda” and ensuring Western media have less opportunity to “blacken” China’s image. With its talk of “grabbing discursive power” (争夺话语权), the editorial also recalls Chinese President Hu Jintao’s media policy of more active “public opinion channeling” (舆论引导).
After paragraphs bristling with anger, the editorial turns (almost bizarrely, I think) into a call for greater openness of information in China, on the premise that China’s government has nothing whatsoever to hide.
Need I say more?

“Transparency of Information is China’s Constant Direction” (信息透明是中国的不二方向)
June 3, 2011
Google has once again announced that its Gmail service has suffered an attack originating in Jinan [the capital of China’s Jilin province], and in this accusation, which professionals immediately find tiresome, Google has shown itself as an Internet giant to be incredibly naive. On its list of victims, Google has placed in particular — aside from high-level American government officials, Asian diplomats and military personnel — “Chinese political activists.” This [addition] suits the outside world’s image of China’s government as a government that would “do anything to ensure stability preservation.” And [the accusation] might easily gain the support of a few in China who understand little about the internet and are accustomed to reading politics into everything.
We don’t know exactly how many attacks “originating in China” Google might have suffered, but in the unordered world of the web, it is perhaps unavoidable that Google should suffer a large number of attacks. This is the real price for “standing at the summit” of the internet. Moreover, an attack from an IP address in China does not necessarily mean the attacker must really be in China. And if it turns out they are in China, the operation is not necessarily being directed by Chinese people or the Chinese government. These principles are as simple as ABC for internet experts, but Google is always weeping snotty-nosed, pulling the wool over the eyes of everyone in the world who doesn’t understand how IP addresses work.
In the internet world there is a saying: that those hackers who are really and truly good at what they do are uncatchable, and those who are caught are all small-time offenders. But it’s not just Google. Western politicians have persistently declared that they have suffered online attacks “originating in China,” and in broader public opinion this suggestion [that attacks have] “originated in China” has borne a serious implication, which is clearly that these attacks are being perpetrated by Chinese people, and moreover under the direction of China’s government.
All of this is perhaps not worth getting all incensed about, because the Western media have always been this way. What we must ask, though, is this: Where have China’s relevant [government] departments run off to in all of this? Every day, China receives so many online attacks from outside the country, and some government officials have had their computers manipulated, resulting in serious breaches of secrecy. Some officials have for this reason been punished [for breach of secrecy]. But why is it that China has never made its own experiences public, but just sits there quietly enduring rebuke from foreign countries. A person who has constantly suffered theft at the hands of others is made out to be an infamous pirate!
Perhaps out of pent up fury with its lack of business success in China, Google wants to do battle with the Chinese government. In accusing China of online spying, Western politicians hope to make known their refusal to give in to China. For them, blackening the face of China is something they do willy-nilly, like spending loose pocket change.
But China’s caution in rebuking others is as though we live in the ideal “Republic” described by Plato.
We can rebuke others, but even more we should reflect on ourselves. Lack of transparency of information has become a habit with us, and knuckling under (低调) [or keeping a low profile] has perhaps become our strategy for dealing with anything of a sensitive nature. Everyone knows this is an age for grabbing discursive power (争夺话语权) and [drawing] eyes and ears, and silence often means acquiescence. If you do not take the initiative in setting the agenda, you will be afflicted by the agenda others set. China, whose miracles have surprised the world and who has acted justly and moderately toward the outside world, is again and again spoken of as a country “both big and bad” (又大又坏).
In April this year police in China detained Ai Weiwei, a matter falling entirely within the scope of China’s judicial sovereignty. But why could relevant Chinese departments not quickly make an announcement of this? Why did they have to give Western media hours and hours of time in which to blacken China? They described the detained Ai Weiwei as “missing” (失踪), and this word has been burned deep into Western public opinion, to this day still being used. Who knows how much energy it will cost us to erase the influence of this word.
China is an aboveboard nation. We have our problems, we have made mistakes, but a few flaws cannot obscure the splendor of the jade. It is entirely within our ability to broadly open up the affairs of our nation, because our national objectives can withstand criticism. There is no shame in showing the process of our advancement before others. There is no need for us to hide anything. Many of our documents can become open reports.
We know achieving openness of information is a process. But we must step firmly into the future. This is the overarching trend of the information age, and it is also the constant direction of enlightened politics in China.

Earlier this week, Guangdong’s Southern People Weekly ran a report taking an inside look at how Chongqing Satellite TV has made a shift toward the “red” under top leader Bo Xilai’s (薄熙来) broad revival of classic Chinese Communist Party culture, with all of its political undertones.
The report is interesting for a number reasons. First of all, of course, it offers — or purports to offer — an inside perspective on changes in Chongqing, which have either joyed or disgusted Chinese in recent months, depending on who you’re listening to. It provides a picture of news journalists struggling with dwindling budgets as advertising revenues become a thing of the past (dropped by the station itself), and forced to work closely with Party and government authorities on all stories they take on.
Secondly, I think this story, which is from one of China’s most respected professional magazines, should turn attention to basic issues of professionalism. We often provide examples at this site of the courage and professionalism shown by Chinese journalists in a very difficult press climate. But it’s important to remember how far Chinese media still have to go in building up their own professional cultures, which does not necessarily have to be dictated by the political climate.
Specifically, this report relies exclusively on anonymous sources. This is often, many argue, an unavoidable choice in China’s media environment, where sources face a very real risk of reprisal. But this is often used also as a rationale for sloppy reporting.
Tt may make sense, in the case of this report, to withhold the identities of employees still working at Chongqing Satellite TV. But the reporter, Chen Lei (陈磊), even withholds the identity of a journalist source in circumstances that do not seem at all warranted: “There are also those who believe that the programs [at Chongqing Satellite TV] are not bad. Chongqing Daily reporter Zhang Hua (name changed), who has a background in archaeology, confessed that he really enjoys programs on Chongqing Satellite TV and often watches them.”
Is “Zhang Hua” afraid of reprisals from those who might think he’s a Party bootlicker?
The following partial translation picks up partway through the Southern People Weekly report.

The Concerns of Employees
Watching the programs at Chongqing Satellite TV, Dou Dou (name changed) has her own take on the whole thing. Two months ago, she was still an employee there. Almost overnight, she was notified by the unit of her dismissal after a “two-way selection” involving both a written examination and an interview [to determine her suitability for the station, and vice versa]. She had worked for the unit for three years, since 2008.
Also dismissed along with Dou Dou were scores of colleagues from the advertising department — 10 of these were dismissed and more than 20 others uneasily awaited transfers within the organization.
What Dou Dou cares about is when her severance package will come through. “We are young, so if they let us go, that’s that. But what we don’t know is how much severance we’ll receive. They said, you can get the equivalent of a month of salary multiplied by the number of years we worked at the station. But many of us have received only the basic wage since the second half of last year, so this is unfair [if severance is calculated on this basis].” [NOTE: Chinese journalists are generally paid a basic wage with performance-based pay and some subsidies.]
As to the reasons for letting this group of people go, Dou Dou says that the explanation within the station was “an objective economic entity facing major economic changes” — “Actually,” [said Dou Dou], “it was that they would no longer broadcast advertisements.” Before Spring Festival this year, Dou Dou and her colleagues had already heard the winds of change. “Only, we didn’t think changes would happen so fast, and that they would be so intense.”
These aren’t Dou Dou’s concerns alone.
When Ting Ting (name changed), who is on the front lines of news gathering [for Chongqing Satellite TV], saw this reporter, she had just returned from reporting a story. Speaking about the changes since [the station] stopped broadcasting ads, this capable and efficient female journalist clearly felt helpless — “There’s no money. The funds available for program production are so short it’s pitiful!”
Ting Ting’s program is Chongqing Satellite TV’s trump card [one of its key programs], broadcast 20 minutes each day since March 7. But they only have more than 10 people working on the [news] program. Aside from going and recording the program content with the propaganda offices of various city districts, they must “first make contact with the opposite side” (事先和对方联系) when reporting news across provinces (跨省采访).
[Ting Ting explained:] “Only when [the government authorities in the area where we are reporting] agree to help us arrange and pay for the reporting trip, and don’t bring up costs [ie, expect payment] do we dare to go [and report the story]. When we do go, our leaders [in Chongqing] have to remind us that if the other side says they want us to settle accounts, resulting in fees [for the station], we need to explain to them that this is a [reporting] task arranged by the Propaganda Department of Chongqing Municipality, and we have to coordinate with the department on our return.”
[Ting Ting said:] “There’s nothing we can do. The propaganda department doesn’t have any money [to provide for these stories] and the station no longer broadcasts advertisements.” Ting Ting said that according to her understanding, news staff would see generally wage cuts of around 10 percent after the Spring Festival. “That means hundreds of yuan less per month, and cuts are even deeper for logistical staff.”
Many employees at Chongqing Satellite TV said that after former [station] president Li Xiaofeng (李晓枫) was “official detained and interrogated [for disciplinary issues]” (双规) in October 2010, the awkward predicament of the financial situation at Chongqing Satellite TV daily became clearer to staff members. [Unattributed quote:] “Before the Spring Festival, [the station’s] Party secretary Liu Wanli (刘万利) held a general meeting of employees and said that the station had come upon a time of great difficulties, and everyone should ready themselves for leaner times. No one ever thought that after the Spring Festival advertisements would be stopped . . . ”
[Unattributed quote:] “Actually, before Spring Festival when principal leaders from the municipal Party committee came to our station and visited with news personnel, praising the good work we had done in producing a red TV channel (红色频道), they raised the issue of stopping the broadcasting of advertisements, saying we should hold on, and that more understanding and support would follow. They also said that when mountain flowers blossom full, [the plum flower] will mingle smiling in their midst. [NOTE: This is from Mao Zedong’s poem “Ode to the Plum Blossom.” The use of the line here suggests that top Chongqing leaders are confident that more and more people, and more and more Party leaders, will begin to see the wisdom of the change to “red” programming at Chongqing Satellite TV and will follow its example in time.]
Ting Ting sighed: “Not long ago, I heard that the station had stopped giving traffic allowances (车贴) to mid-level Party cadres [at the station], and a number of mid-level cadres started having station vehicles take them to and from work. Aye! They make the rest of us drive ourselves to work, and how unfair to us is that! One time they went out for an interview and a dish [they ordered for a meal] was really tasty, so they wanted to order one more. Their colleague in the finance department warned them: order more and there won’t be enough money!
The Emergence of the “Red Channel”
In the memories of many employees, Chongqing Satellite TV’s transformation into a “red channel” began back in 2008.
That year, Chongqing Satellite TV introduced a new channel branding under the slogan “China stories, world humanity” (故事中国，人文天下) [NOTE: This is an awful translation, suggestions welcome]. They clearly defined a kind of “heroic character” as the external face of the station to be promoted — “The biggest characteristic was to broadcast all sorts of television dramas that could draw larger audiences, and to broadcast these over and over. For example, “Drawing Sword” (亮剑), which was aired scores of times. [NOTE: “Drawing Sword” is a patriotic drama set during the war of resistance against Japan and centering on the Eighth Route Army of the Chinese Communist Party.]
In further programming changes in May 2009, Chongqing Satellite TV moved from a focus on ratings to [a focus on] value orientation: “There was a determination to spend about a year to break loose from the ugly competitive environment [of television] nationally, and seek a sustainable development path promoting advanced mainstream [CCP] culture.”
The focus of these changes was on establishing a movement with Chongqing characteristics of “singing red, reading the [Party] classics, telling [Party] stories and passing along [Party] maxims” . . .
In a publicity document, Chongqing Satellite TV said, “Chongqing will become a cultural high plain, and Chongqing Satellite TV is a critical resource [toward this end]. Chongqing Satellite TV must stand out and stand up.” This speaks the hopes for Chongqing Satellite TV held by principal leaders in the municipal Party committee, and is the goal toward which Chongqing’s broadcast industry is struggling generally.
At the annual China Media Congress in 2009, Chongqing Satellite TV was designated as one of China’s top ten satellite television stations. But by this time, audience ratings were seldom raised at all. At the “two meetings” [of the National People’s Congress and the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Congess] in 2010, then president Li Xiaofeng said: “Audience ratings are the root of all evil in our country’s television sector. It is a statistical technique that entirely excludes the [cultural] elite from the investigative sample.”
Li said that Chongqing Satellite TV had cut out selection shows [resembling, for example, the American Idol-like Super Girl program on Hunan TV] and replaced them with a big lineup of heroically themed and revolutionary history themed programs, which had been well-received by various quarters. What people could not understand [subsequently], however, was how Chongqing Satellite TV’s ratings had slipped from fourth position in 2008 to tenth position in 2009, and to twentieth position by March 2010.
“I propose the creation of an audience rating system more suited to the unique situation of our country,” Li Xiaofeng said [in 2009].
That year, Chongqing Satellite TV made great efforts to build [its] “China Red” (中国红) [branding]. This was evidenced not just in its Spring Festival Gala, its cultural variety shows and its [Party] classic dramas, but also in programs like “Sing/Read/Speak/Convey” (唱读讲传), [a shortening of “singing red, reading the [Party] classics, telling [Party] stories and passing along [Party] maxims”] . . .
. . .

[Frontpage photo by espensorvik available at Flickr.com under Creative Commons license.]

In the past month, the People’s Daily has run a series of five editorials from the “editorial desk” dealing with so-called “social mentality” or shehui xintai (社会心态) in China. Against the backdrop of tightening controls on the press and a more aggressive attitude toward prominent academics and dissidents — to say nothing of the paper’s typical stiffness — the editorials have puzzled some with their more broad-minded positions. Others have dismissed them as propaganda smoke screens, affecting candor to throw observers for a loop.
Even relative insiders who generally know how to read the signs have scratched their heads. After reading the fifth and final editorial in the series today, the Chinese user “freemoren” wrote on Twitter: “People’s Daily editorial desk: Leaders Must Listen Attentively to Those ‘Sunken Voices’ . . . Doesn’t the People’s Daily seem not to be itself lately? What’s up with Comrade Li Changchun?”
Li Changchun (李长春), of course, is the fifth-ranking member of the politburo standing committee and China’s de facto propaganda chief. He’s the man who steers China’s message, so the implication by “freemoren” is that these unorthodox editorials somehow suggest the propaganda regime itself is in turmoil.
That’s unlikely. But in tomorrow’s post, time permitting, I’ll get into some of the reasons why we see such markedly different voices appearing in a publication generally thought to reflect the broader consensus of the Party leadership.
For now, though, let’s finish out this series at the People’s Daily with the final editorial, “Leaders Must Listen Attentively to Those ‘Sunken Voices'” (执政者要倾听那些“沉没的声音”).

This piece argues that “prolonged social and political stability” can only be established in China if proper mechanisms ensure that all Chinese can make their voices heard. It suggests that China is entering a “golden age” of expression, but that “there are still many voices that have not been heard.”
In keeping with official-speak, the editorial does not invoke the term “freedom of expression” (言论自由), which is slightly more sensitive and has liberal Western associations, but uses instead “right to express,” or biaodaquan (表达权), which hearkens back to Hu Jintao’s 2007 formulation of the so-called “four rights” (四个权利) — the right to know (知情权), right to participate (参与权), right to express (表达权) and right to monitor (监督权).
That’s to be expected. But there are points that genuinely surprise, as when the editorial argues that, from a more enlightened vantage point, “rights defense” (维权), which generally refers to citizen actions to oppose unfair government actions, is “stability preservation” (维稳), a term that generally refers to the mobilization of a huge (and expensive) police and security apparatus to deal with internal unrest arising from social tensions. This view seems much closer to that of liberal Chinese Academy of Social Sciences scholar Yu Jianrong (于建嵘), a proponent of constitutionalism, than it does to the dominant Party view on social management.
For those of you who haven’t followed it, this series began on April 28 with a piece called “Dealing With ‘Differing Ideas’ With an Attitude of Tolerance” (以包容心对待“异质思维”), which called for a tolerant attitude toward new and different ideas. The editorial called intolerance “a sign of weakness and narrow-mindedness” and said “diversity is the secret to prosperity.”
“Where Do We Begin in Our Pursuit of Reason?” (追求理性从哪里起步), published on May 19, argued that only by creating effective mechanisms for dealing with underlying problems — such as the deepening gap between rich and poor, the inaccessibility of housing and other crucial social services, the destruction of homes in the face of property development, etcetera — can China move truly and steadily toward the so-called “building of rationality” (理性建设).
Here is our translation of editorial number five of the People’s Daily series on “social mentality”.

Leaders Must Listen Attentively to Those “Sunken Voices” (执政者要倾听那些“沉没的声音”)
People’s Daily
May 26, 2011
From the Editorial Desk of the People’s Daily (人民日报评论部)
In China today, you can hear all sorts of voices. During sessions of the National People’s Congress and Chinese People’s Political Consultative Congress [this year], delegates and committee members spoke freely about matters of state. In our newspapers and magazines, different ideas were exchanged and explored. User comments on the news [at websites] often ran into the thousands, and close to 200 million internet users wrote 140-character microblogs as they pleased . . . Track upon track of voices, rising into an ensemble, revealing the complicated picture, and the vigor and vitality, of multiplicity and diversity in this age of ours..
We are ushering in a “golden age” of expression, but there are still many voices that have not been heard. On the one hand, some voices have been submerged in the vastness of the field of voices (声场), so that it is difficult for them to find the surface. On the other hand, there are some voices that only “speak, but in vain” (说也白说), that make their wishes known but find their problems unresolved. These can all be thought of as null expression (无效表达), and some have called them “sunken voices” (沉没的声音).
Null expression is not a lack of expression, nor is it an unwillingness to express. When city leaders in Guangzhou announced that they would meet personally with petitioners, city residents turned out with their bedrolls, waiting in lines for three days, all hoping for an opportunity to “say something” to leaders. When Hu Xiaoyan (胡小燕), the first migrant worker to serve as a delegate to the National People’s Congress, made his private mobile phone number public, he was forced to shut his phone off because he was bombarded with thousands of calls and thousands of text messages. Those hot-button incidents (热点事件) arising from internet attention that become a focus for the media, they are just the “tip of the iceberg.” Beneath the surface of the sea is a much bigger body of ice, and this is the massive foundation that is pushing the crest of ice up out of the water. This is also the “subconscious mind” (潜意识) and “core layer” (核心层) that determines the mentality of our society.
To a large extent, those who are disadvantaged in terms of expression [ie, those who are voiceless] are also those who are disadvantaged in real terms. In society, they lack the resources to influence public opinion, they seldom have channels to participate in government decision-making, or have no way of obtaining information most directly concerning themselves. Therefore, while their numbers are not small, their voices find it difficult to be heard within society.
To hear and to be heard, this is a fundamental appeal for social persons (社会人). To speak and to hear others speak is even more a basic consensus of modern civilization. When the right to expression (表达权) becomes a basic political right, valuing these voices is the starting off point for coordinating interests and rationalizing social mentalities. In a country with a population of 1.3 billion, now undergoing dramatic social change, it is all the more important that the voices of the broad masses are heard and valued.
Behind most sunken voices are demands left unmet, and repressed antipathies that await easing. After his son is disabled in an automobile accident, a father from Yunnan province “detonates himself” outside a courthouse, taking the most extreme course of rights defense [NOTE: This seems to be a case that was not reported in China’s media]. A daughter suffers from an incurable disease, and the a mother from Hubei province takes part in an online publicity stunt in which she “crawls on her knees” [across the city of Guangzhou] . . . The incidents that cause a great public clamor all originate with voices that have been neglected. [Voices that] cannot be heard, are not heard, cannot be resolved — if we do not take action to “salvage” (打捞) them, too many voices will be submerged, and we will find it difficult to avoid the choking up of our social mentality, leading to a sharpening of tensions.
Speaking is the foundation of asserting our interests. Only with the expression of interests can there be relative balancing of interests, and only with the relative balancing of interests can there be long-term social stability. The facts tell us that behind many cases of tension and conflict lies the deprivation of mechanisms to express one’s interests. Seen from this perspective, rights defense is stability preservation (维权就是维稳). Listening as much as possible to voices from various circles of society has major benefit for stability preservation (维稳).
In the midst of cacophony, salvaging as much as possible those sunken voices (沉没的声音) is a bounden duty of social administrators (社会管理者). Applying the power of the government toward protecting the right to expression (表达权) of the most vulnerable, so that their interests can be expressed normally through systematized and standardized channels, is inherent to common construction and sharing (共建共享) [of prosperity, etc.], and is crucial to the building of a harmonious society. Only in this way can we ensure that “speaking” (说话) and “making one’s voice heard” (发声) are not only the most basic means of making appeals, but even more become an important link in fostering a healthy social mentality, and become a firm foundation for prolonged social and political stability.
(Thus ends this series of editorials — the editors)