If I had a dime for every time I heard someone argue that the Chinese people are apolitical and don’t give a rat’s backside about democracy. If you think that’s true, you’re not paying attention. Sure, an errant question to a taxi driver in Guangzhou — “Do you care about politics?” — might elicit an expression of indifference. But recent history shows that this same driver could be spearheading a transport strike next week — which means you asked the wrong question.
Democracy — or have we forgotten? — is about engagement and participation. And one of the most interesting and exciting things about China today is the level of engagement that does happen in spite of its restrictive political culture. Real political participation may be impossible in China, but people of all stripes and shades keep on pushing nonetheless.
Chinese journalists know this only too well. Formally speaking, China’s government has never relinquished any ground in terms of media control — and yet, independent-minded journalists, like New Century News editor-in-chief Hu Shuli (胡舒立) and investigative reporter Wang Keqin (王克勤), have actively muscled their way into new professional terrain. Why? Because they care about their country, and they believe that there must be mechanisms to check the expansion of blind, self-interested power.
The legacy and impact of authoritarianism is also a fact, of course, but engagement is a real Chinese mega-trend, and it is not confined, as many insist on believing, to a handful of educated elites.
Consider a story that played in China’s media last week, but which strangely had no attention whatsoever from foreign media. I read the story first in The Beijing News, not exactly an obscure newspaper, and when I searched for English stories several days later I was exasperated to find that the only English-language report at all was from the Global Times, which actually did some of their own reporting too.
So we have a story about a “democratic” election gone wrong, complete with hundreds of politically engaged villagers and their own popular candidate, and 200 riot police thrown in for good measure — and it happened right under everyone’s feet, in the urban outskirts of China’s capital city.
On July 27, Raolefu Village (饶乐府村) in Beijing’s Fangshan District — the Global Times reports the name of the village as Yaole (?) — held an election for its village head. There were two candidates, one an ordinary villager and the other the village’s party secretary who had been concurrently serving as village head. (This cadre, Wei Jiandong, has held both top positions in the village for eight years, according to the Global Times, so I would suspect there are some interesting back stories on possible abuse of power here too).
When the voting results were in, the villager had received 1,025 ballots and Party Secretary Wei had received 963. But because, apparently according to Wei himself, who was probably running the election committee, neither candidate had 50 percent of the 2,058 ballots the election committee had received, the results of the election were nullified in accordance with regulations, which state that a candidate must have more than 50 percent of the votes in order to win an election.
But clearly, something sneaky was going on. When Party Secretary Wei announced that the counting was done, votes counted for the two candidates fell 52 ballots short of the total number of ballots received by the election committee (18 or so ballots were reportedly omitted, for reasons unknown).
Raolefu villagers insisted that the election results were fraudulent, and they demanded a recount, even guarding the ballot box through the night. Their demands were ignored by the election committee. The standoff turned nasty when local leaders dispatched 200 policemen to the scene. The police forcibly took the ballot box from villagers and loaded it into a waiting police vehicle. But villagers surround the vehicle to prevent it from leaving. As a result, police carted off eight villagers on criminal charges of “creating transportation havoc and disturbing social order.”
Anyone interested in exploring this story might also have taken advantage of any number of “experts” commenting on its significance in Chinese-language media. Here, for example, are some remarks by Shao Jian (邵建), a professor at Nanjing Xiaozhuang University who wrote a piece called, “Puppet elections are not democracy,” on August 21, 2010.

It’s fair to say that democracy is a century-long dream of the Chinese people. And the ecology of democracy [and how it works] is something that deserves to receive more attention from us . . .
Judging from the sidelines, this [situation in Fangshan] was clearly an election that was manipulated by the powers that be. If their own candidate was not popularly elected, they could just weasel him in. The legitimacy of power should arise from the elective process, and yet it was power, in this case, that aborted this entire election process. The district and neighborhood governments should be held fully accountable in this case. Remember, election rights are the most important political rights citizens have, and these villagers are standing up and being responsible for this right, which hasn’t come easy — they want elect the candidate they wish to elect. That is the only reason why they have protested against this clear case of fraud. Though they are clearly within their reasonable rights, what do they get in return? Not only are they unable to get at the truth behind the election, but eight villagers are detained on criminal charges.
It is clear from news reports that district representatives went to the scene four separate times to discuss matters with the villagers, but they could not reach an understanding. That’s when they sent in the police. The villagers had done nothing illegal, so why mobilize the police? What right did police have to take away that ballot box before the problem had been worked out? On top of it, the criminal detentions were based on a total pretense . . . The villagers were entirely within their constitutional rights to protect the ballot box. The local government and police were highly unreasonable in their attempts to resolve the election standoff. Strictly speaking, this is a political problem in and of itself, revealing the sort of attitude local officials have toward democracy.
In public life today, elections are the most important manifestation of so-called democracy. If elections are fraudulent, then the democracy they purport to realize is fraudulent. I don’t care whether or not this election fraud is a low probability occurrence in our public life or a high probability occurrence. What I am saying is that this case gives us a lot to think about, and we should not let it go so easily.

I find this story fascinating, and I would love to know more. But apparently it doesn’t meet news selection criteria — not like a story about China’s economy overtaking Japan’s, or a train carriage plunging into raging floodwaters.
FURTHER READING:
“China’s Wen calls for political reform,” AFP, August 22, 2010

Writing at his Sohu.com blog, CMP fellow and rights defense lawyer Pu Zhiqiang (浦志强) tells the harrowing story of eight villagers in the county-level city of Qinyang (沁阳), Henan Province. The villagers, several of whom were jailed on “slander” charges in 2009 after distributing materials alleging wrongdoing by local leaders, and whose case received national attention, continue to suffer reprisals from local officials.
Most recently, the children of two of the petitioners have been denied school textbooks. The Supreme People’s Procuratorate, China’s top agency for prosecution and investigation, recently issued a statement against the use of slander charges by local governments to address criticisms made against leaders. But, as the old saying goes, “The dragon cannot flush the snakes from their holes.” Local leaders will do as they please.
Click HERE for the full blog entry in Chinese.

One day back in July, an old woman in the city of Bell, a community located in Los Angeles County, stumbled across a document listing off the salaries of the local mayor and other city officials while she was rummaging through the garbage. She was shocked to find that in this city whose per capita income stands at roughly one-half of the American average, the city manager was drawing a salary of US$787,637 (higher than the salary earned by President Obama). The police chief was earning US$457,000 (US$150,000 higher than that of the chief of the Los Angeles Police Department).
Stranger still, four City Council members, who had only limited part-time responsibilities, were drawing salaries of US$97,000 each. Generally, city officials in small communities like this, who need only attend occasional meetings and vote yeah and nay, are paid around US$400.
It goes without saying that America is a country where democratic institutions are highly developed. Local areas in the United States are self-governing, and in cities like Bell, the city manager and members of the city council are elected by local voters.
How could such a flagrant case of self-aggrandizement occur on a democratically elected city council?
The reason, as it turns out, is local sovereignty itself. The salaries and benefits of officials serving in city governments like this are determined by the city council. Bell is an area suffering from poverty, and local voters are not sufficiently clued in to local affairs. As a result, people were blind to the actions of the city council.
Though close to Los Angeles, Bell is a small community drawing little attention. The media too were derelict in their duties. As a result, city council members were able to use their voting rights to award themselves exorbitant salaries.
Cold indifference to politics is a common problem in developed nations. But such exploitation of indifference for personal gain is rare and surprising.
Under our present political system in China, we don’t see officials awarding themselves higher salaries. As citizens, however, we harbor all kinds of doubts about our government officials and their sources of income.
It’s impossible for us to know just how much “grey income” Chinese officials scoop up by exploiting their positions of power. Why don’t we know? Because so far we have no effective laws to ensure the transparency of the incomes of government officials. Official incomes are a terrain completely beyond our scrutiny.
So while Chinese leaders cannot award themselves higher salaries, they can employ all sorts of tactics shielded from the public to line their own pockets. Government officials with paltry incomes manage to afford palatial homes, drive fancy sedans, deck themselves out in elite brands and enjoy the very best liquor and tobacco.
In real terms, the benefits China’s officials accrue by virtue of their unsupervised power almost certainly dwarfs the salaries officials in the city of Bell decided to award themselves.
Government power tends to be self-aggrandizing by its very nature, a potentially monstrous Leviathan. It need only be handed the opportunity and it will enlarge itself and seek its own interests.
The matter of salaries was the first to be debated during the first meeting of China’s legislature, held after China’s Xinhai Revolution brought an end to the Qing Dynasty. What decision did the legislature make? Flying in the face of suspicion, these framers of Chinese democracy awarded themselves monthly salaries of 500 yuan. In those days, six yuan was sufficient to support a large family. This amount was preposterously high. But the public and the media were totally oblivious, and so the process of self aggrandizement began.
Supervision is the only way power can be turned away from self-interest. Power beyond the public gaze grows dangerous and avaricious. This is true in China, and it is equally true in America.
The revelation of the dirty secret in the city of Bell happened because an old woman scavenging in the garbage was mindful of her own rights. Once the media became involved, the problem was quickly resolved. The city officials involved were given 90 percent salary cuts. The city manager pledged not to accept payment for his work. All of them will serve out their terms in disgrace, and in all likelihood none will stand again as candidates.
The Bell case has jostled many Americans awake. They realize anew that if they don’t keep their eyes trained on their elected leaders, those leaders will see greedily to their own interests.
This article originally appeared in Chinese at Shanghai Morning Post.

China National Petroleum Corporation (CNPC), has recently confirmed the authenticity of a CNPC list of “words to be used with caution” now circulating on the Internet. The list, 3,000 characters in length, includes more than a hundred terms the company regards as “sensitive,” and that should either be “used with great care” or “not used.”
CNPC has defended the existence of the list, saying it’s nothing more than an effort at ensuring that its internal corporate communications are better regulated and of better quality. The company insists that it has never applied the memo to language directed outside the company.
CNPC’s response itself is a game of semantics and sensitivity. As the people who drafted this CNPC memo no doubt understand, and as Chinese journalists know only too well, “use with great care” generally does suggest that use is prohibited. The real point here is that “prohibited” is itself a word that must be “used with great care.” Hence the preference for “use with great care” or “don’t use.”
As for this distinction between application of the memo for internal company documents versus external company documents, this too is a stroke of obfuscation. A section header on CNPC’s list of sensitive words makes it very plain that these rules apply to the control of language use in both internal documents and external documents.
From a corporate communication perspective, the careful selection of words in company communications and documents such as press releases is simply a necessary part of business culture. Companies around the world should be expected to do exactly the same thing. So anyone who believes in market economics should see no particular cause for criticism in the CNPC case. This is simply good and proper business management.
But while CNPC’s internal list of sensitive words might be one of the longest, this does not reflect successful public opinion channeling or public relations on the company’s part. In fact, their actions in this regard might be characterized as incredibly childish.
What those defending the actions of CNPC can’t seem to understand is why exactly an internal corporate management policy should become such a flashpoint of public attention and anger. This is just a corporate action to massage its own public image, so why should the company be accused of avoiding supervision by public opinion, or public scrutiny?
This is something that cannot be understood simply by flipping through the nearest economics textbook. One has to understand this corporate behavior and the social response in terms of the practical realities of China today, and the unique nature of business as it is done here.
First, notice how when CNPC comes up against public criticism, it defends itself by emphasizing its identity as an enterprise, washing its hands of politics. When, on the other hand, it wishes to manipulate public opinion to its advantage, it can emphasize the priority of political stability. When the company is scrabbling for money in the marketplace, it shows an insatiable appetite for capital. But as people call for the fairer application of market principles to combat market monopolization, CNPC upholds its state-owned enterprise status and advocates ‘self-strengthening’ (做强做大) [ie., the need to develop competitive state industry players]. The company’s upper management are all state cadres with administrative ranks. As upper management at enterprises, they can draw high salaries. Meanwhile, as high-level public servants they can be assigned to various departments to serve as officials.
This is why people glimpse the pragmatic shadow of administrative control in this “list of sensitive words,” and a guiding intent whose meaning extends beyond the company itself.
In the nine major sections of this list of sensitive words, there are two things that have most drawn the interest of Internet users. The first is that when company leaders go on visits to local areas, the words “inspection” and
“inspection tour” (which suggest the leaders are acting in an official government capacity) must not be used — rather, they should talk about the leaders going out on “surveys,” “investigations” or tours of “solicitation.” And when talking about the company’s business results, employees are not to use “monopoly” (垄断), “excessive profits” (暴利), “rich and powerful” (豪门), “big shots” (大腕), “recession” (衰退), etc. The words “turning point” (拐点) and “borrowing”
(借债), “downturn” (下滑) and “losses” (亏损) are to be used “with great care.”
These leaders might genuinely be going out in “solicitation” when they visit local areas, but everyone is inclined to feel, given practical circumstances, that this is mostly formalistic and phony, and people have a strong antipathy to the wasteful use of public resources [which is at issue because these are state-owned enterprises].
As for “excessive profits,” “rich and powerful” and “monopoly” — these are irrefutable facts [in our society of Market-Leninism, where business and power are inextricable linked]. The fact that these are stark realities but cannot be talked about is naturally a major joke as Internet users see it.
There are also a number of contradictions in this list of sensitive words, which reveal the public opinion abyss in which these powerful enterprises find themselves in China’s period of social transition.
For example, when company leaders attend various grand celebrations and conferences, the words “personally” (亲自), “cordially” (莅临) and “graciously” (光临) invited are not to be used, because these words create an unfavorable impression. The list also stipulates that when releases are made about speeches given by company bosses, a number of special words, like “issued important instructions” (做重要指示), “made an important speech” (发表重要讲话), “pointed out” (指出), “emphasized” (强调), “demanded” (要求) and “issued a speech” (发表讲话) are to be left to state leaders.
The online jabber surrounding CNPC’s list of sensitive words is a reflection of a social mood in China. Monopoly that relies on administrative power is something people see no end to, nor do they see any genuine effort to address it. In fact, the situation is only growing worse, while small and medium-sized companies are stuck and powerless.
It only makes sense that Internet users search about hungrily for an opportunity to mock and sneer at power. Even if the CNPC amounts to normal corporate behavior, it is bound to be distorted and misunderstood given the realities of China’s political and economic environment.
Look behind this seemingly irrational online display and you’ll discover very rational and intelligible causes.
This article originally appeared in Chinese at the Oriental Morning Post.
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CNPC “Sensitive Word” List
中国石油天然气集团公司
新闻报道和公文稿件慎用词汇表
为进一步规范新闻发布和公文稿件用语，正确引导舆论，更好地服务于集团公司改革、发展、稳定的大局，根据集团公司《关于加强新闻发布制度建设意见的通知》（中油办字〔2006〕330号）和《重大敏感信息发布管理暂行规定》（中油办字〔2007〕315号）文件精神，参照新华社有关新闻报道禁用词，制订《中国石油天然气集团公司新闻报道和公文稿件慎用词汇表》，供新闻发布之用。
一、集团公司领导活动
1．报道集团公司领导出席各类庆典、会议等活动时，不使用“亲自”、“莅临”、“光临”等词汇，应使用“出席”、“参加”等。
2．报道集团公司领导赴国（境）外执行公务时，慎用“访问”、“出访”等词汇，应使用“谈判”、“签约”、“业务交流”、“参加会议”等与实际任务对应的词汇。
3．集团公司领导到基层调研、检查工作，不使用“考察”、“视察”等词汇，应使用“慰问”、“调研”、“检查”等。
4．报道集团公司领导讲话，除党组主要领导外，慎用“作重要指示”、“发表重要讲话”等词汇，应使用“指出”、“强调”、“要求”、“批示”、“发表讲话”等。
5．国家部委、地方政府及企业相关领导拜访集团公司领导时，不使用“接见”等词汇，应使用“会见”、“会谈”、“拜会”、“拜访”等。
6．报道中涉及的领导职务，不使用“首长”、“老板”、“老大”、“老总”、“班长”、“一把手”等词汇，应使用“公司领导”、“公司主要领导”或使用规范的职务名称等；在党内会议上，不能称呼行政职务，应使用“同志”、“党组成员”、“党组领导”、“党组主要领导”或规范职务名称等。
二、经营状况
7．报道集团公司经营业绩时，不使用“垄断”、“暴利”、“豪门”、“大腕”、“衰退”等词汇，慎用“拐点”、“借债”、“下滑”、“举债”、“亏损”等词汇，应使用“营业收入”、“上缴税费”、“利润总额”、“增加盈利”、“稳定增长”、“运行平稳”、“增速变缓”、“健康发展”、“发展势头良好”等。
8．报道集团公司上缴国家的“特别收益金”时，不使用“暴利税”，应使用法定称谓“特别收益金”。
9．涉及集团公司税收等报道时，不使用“避税”等词汇。
三、炼化生产和市场供应
10．报道炼油能力、市场供应时，慎用“产能扩张”、“争夺市场”、“占领市场”等词汇，应使用“增加”、“提高”、“扩大”等。
11．报道油品销售时，不使用“搭售”、“配售”、“断供”、“降价促销”、“礼品促销”等词汇。
12．报道油价变化时，慎用“涨价”、“降价”等词汇，应使用“调整”、“上调”、“下调”、“调价”、“波动”、“提高”、“上浮”、“回落”、“冲破”等。
13．报道油气供应紧张时，不使用“油荒”、“气荒”、“断档”等词汇，应使用“供求矛盾”、“资源紧张”、“油品紧张”、“天然气紧张”等。
14．涉及集团公司市场供应的报道，不使用“占领”、“控制”、“蚕食”、“挤出”、“通吃”、“国进民退”、“保证国家能源安全”、“保证国家能源供应”等词汇，应使用“保障国家能源安全”、“保障国家能源供应”等。
四、人事劳资和薪酬
15．报道集团公司领导职务变动时，不使用“交棒”、“卸任”、“换帅”、“更替”、“掌舵”、“替换”、“空降”、“一肩挑”、“掌门人”、“头把交椅”等词汇，应使用“担任”、“任命”、“接任”、“辞任”、“离任”等。
16．报道用工制度时，不使用“裁员”、“减员”、“买断”、“下岗”、“待岗”、“瘦身”、“冗员”、“大锅饭”、“优化下岗”等词汇，慎用“减员增效”、“精减人员”等词汇，应使用“总量调控”、“控制机构编制”、“控制用工总量”、“控制人工成本”、“优化用工结构”、“依法规范劳动用工”等。
17．报道中涉及员工岗位时，慎用“核心岗位”、“重要岗位”、“关键岗位”等词汇，应使用“一线员工”、“基层员工”、“技术岗位”等词汇。
18．报道薪酬等事项时，慎用“高薪”、“调资”、“涨工资”、“高福利”、“隐性收入”、“薪酬上涨”、“灰色收入”、“提高或增加收入”等词汇，应使用“规范薪酬分配”、“完善薪酬体系”等。
五、资本市场
19．报道中石油在资本市场的表现时，不使用“圈钱”、“套现”、“敛财”、“缩水”、“破发”、“上市旗舰”、“市值蒸发”、“头把交椅”、“头筹”、“A股之最”、“收益最佳”、“第一红筹股”、“盈利能力最强”、“全球市值第一”、“资本市场的引擎”、“亚洲最赚钱的公司”等词汇，慎用“走红”、“全线飘红”、“腾飞”、“登陆”、“护盘”、“荣登股榜”等词汇，应使用“增持”、“表现良好”、“超出预期”、“高出发行价”、“低于发行价”等，可使用“反弹”等。
20．涉及资本运营的报道时，不使用“救市”、“现金吃紧”、“现金短缺”等词汇，慎用“资金紧张”等词汇，应使用“发售”、“募集”、“融资”、“增持”、“回购”、“发行债券”、“公开发行”、“提升公司价值”等。
六、安全环保、稳定与法律纠纷
21．需公开报道的生产类突发事件，不使用“中国石油集团某某公司”、“中国石油某某公司”等词汇，应以事发企业名义对外发布，如“某某公司发生一起交通事故”等。
22．需公开报道的矿区内突发事件，不使用“中国石油某某公司某某小区”等词汇，应以事发地所在小区名字报道，如“某省或某市某小区发生火灾”等。
23．报道治安等案件时，在法院宣判之前，不使用“罪犯”、“犯罪分子”等词汇，慎用“不法分子或不法人员”等词汇，应使用“嫌犯”、“涉案人员”、“犯罪嫌疑人”等称谓。
24．涉及法律纠纷方面的报道，不使用“中石油赔偿”、“中石油遭索赔”、“规避法律风险”、“规避法律责任”等词汇，应使用“依法维护权利”、“某某案开审”、“某某案审结”等。
七、国际业务
25．报道海外业务时，慎用“海外收入”、“当地黑人”、“获取资源”、“石油安全”、“海外获得原油产量”等词汇，应使用“当地居民”、“海外油气作业产量和权益产量”等，多强调“合作”、“发展”、“互利共赢”。
26．报道海外业务拓展时，不使用“海外扩张”、“海外兵团”、“大举进军”等词汇，应使用“海外收购”、“海外并购”、“公司重组”等。
27．对于相关资源国，不使用“穆斯林国家”或“穆斯林世界”等词汇，应使用“伊斯兰国家”或“伊斯兰世界”。
28．报道达尔富尔问题时，不使用“阿拉伯民兵”等词汇，应使用“武装民兵”或“部落武装”等。
八、企业称谓
29．报道集团公司所属企业时，不使用“存续企业”、“非存续企业”等称谓，而应使用“上市企业”、“未上市企业”或使用集团公司规定的企业统一名称。
30．涉及集团公司及所属企业的报道，慎用“据悉”、“据了解”、“据有关人士”、“据该公司人士称”、“据内部人士称”等词汇，应使用规范的企业名称或人员职务名称。
九、其他
31．报道中石油在国民经济中的地位时，慎用“最大”、“第一”、“航母”、“旗舰”、“领头羊”、“排头兵”等词汇，应使用统一规范的“国有重要骨干企业”、“国家特大型石油石化企业集团”等。
32．报道中石油生产制造的各类产品、商品或使用效果时，慎用“最佳”、“最好”、“最著名”等具有强烈评价色彩的词汇。
33．报道集团公司科技成就时，慎用“唯一”、“世界第一”、“仅此一家”、“仅此一项”等词汇，应使用“领先”、“位居前列”、“重大突破”、“自主创新技术”等。
34．不要将“全国人大常委会副委员长”称作“全国人大副委员长”，也不要将“省人大常委会副主任”称作“省人大副主任”。各级人大常委会的委员，不要称作“人大常委”。
35．其他有关新闻发布未尽事宜，参照集团公司相关信息发布管理规定执行。

On August 12, just as I was picking up my bag and planning to head over to Taiwan’s Academia Sinica to study up on some materials there, the phone suddenly rang. I was reminded of a meeting that had been scheduled at the Epoch Foundation, a private institution founded in 1990 by twenty Taiwanese enterprises.
The Epoch Foundation is located in a small office, no more than forty square meters. Every inch of the office is used to its utmost potential, objects tucked away ingeniously. There are green plants everywhere in the office, all rescued from various events where they had worked to generate atmosphere.
There is a small corridor in the office used as a meeting room, and when meetings are held everyone remains standing. This way, meetings don’t last too long and you can stretch your legs and move about. There’s a place where you can sit and have meetings too, but this room is used as a classroom space.
The Epoch Foundation is apparently a world of women — I saw no men there during our visit, at least. Everyone seemed very busy, although people would find moments to greet us with a “Hi.” We were attended to by three people during our visit. The first was the administrative assistant, who invited us in. The second was the office manager, who served us tea. The third was the assistant director, who explained their work to us. As the assistant director spoke, the office manager showed slides on the projector for us. I have no idea how the director of the foundation managed to keep these women at work, spinning like gyroscopes. But I certainly saw no whip sitting around in the office.
The Epoch Foundation accomplishes many things, and it has played an important role in fostering Taiwan’s knowledge economy. What most intrigued me, however, was their program for the training of university students: The Young Entrepreneurs of the Future Program.
This program was started in the year 2000, and assistant director Zhao Ruyuan (赵如媛) informed us that with a severe economic downturn that year students had found it very difficult to get jobs. As a civil society organization, they began to pay special attention to this issue, and the training program was their answer to the problem.
They had only one objective, and that was to strengthen the creativity and practical capabilities of university students. From that time on they supported 100 university students every year. If students wanted to participate in the program, they needed first to apply and go through an interview process.
Once admitted, the students make contact with one another and select partners to cooperate with. They then work together to conduct research, executing the projects they expressed a hope in doing when they applied. Only after grueling work and preparation do they enter the second phase of the project, which involves a set of courses on specific topics, including innovation, market development and social enterprise incubation.
The courses are led by university professors who are specialists in the fields concerned, but the instructors are all bosses from Taiwanese enterprises. This sort of case-based MBA learning environment is something most universities have been unable to achieve in crafting their MBA programs. Once their courses are completed, the students enter the enterprises themselves, interning directly with enterprise bosses and managers.
Ultimately, through a process of decision-making among the students and scores awarded by the enterprises, top students are chosen for study and research in the United States. The entire process takes a year. But student participation takes place during vacation breaks and after formal study hours. The entire program is free for students who are admitted.
Ten years have gone by, and the Epoch Foundation has now provided training to 1,000 students. Former students have become successful businesspeople in the knowledge economy, and a number have even become well-known managers at major companies.
There was a column at the Epoch Foundation pasted full of green apples, each with a tiny photo, representing all of the students who have passed through the program. The art visible everywhere around the office of the Epoch Foundation was created by the program’s students too. I was struck by how this program devoted to training talent for the knowledge economy had managed to find so many students with a strong artistic sensibility as well.
There was a small balcony in the office with a number of sofas, and this was where they took their meals at the foundation. One of the sofas was made out of recycled paper, the creation of one of the foundation’s former students. It could seat one person, or four people, or even ten, foldable into different shapes. I was told that this student now had his own company, started with funds pooled together by Epoch Foundation classmates. The advertisements can be found on YouTube. [NOTE: This is the “Flexible Love” folding chair, which truly is amazing].
If you are an alumnus of the foundation program, I am told, and have an innovative idea of your own that alumni and classmates approve of, you can count on receiving the investment you need to make it happen, which everyone pools together.
Over the past few years, college graduates in mainland China have had trouble finding employment. During this time, the relevant government departments have made various efforts to tackle the problem. But the efforts of the private sector are still basically nonexistent. And as I emerged from the Epoch Foundation, I didn’t at all feel a sense of comfort or relief. What I felt was a sense of heaviness. When, I thought, will we be able to see this sort of student training program on the mainland?
A version of this editorial appeared in Chinese at the Oriental Morning Post.

Despite persistent pressure from state censors and other tools of political control, investigative journalism has flourished in China over the last decade. The China Media Project and the Journalism & Media Studies Centre are pleased to introduce Investigative Journalism in China, now available from the Hong Kong University Press. [Order form available here: BHIC_Flyer].
This volume offers a comprehensive, first-hand look at investigative journalism in China, including insider accounts from reporters behind some of China’s top stories in recent years.
While many outsiders hold on to the stereotype of Chinese journalists as docile, subservient Party hacks, a number of brave Chinese reporters have exposed corruption and official misconduct with striking ingenuity and often at considerable personal sacrifice. Subjects have included officials pilfering state funds, directors of public charities pocketing private donations, businesses fleecing unsuspecting consumers — even the misdeeds of journalists themselves.
The case studies in this book address critical issues of commercialization of the media, the development of ethical journalism practices, the rising spectre of “news blackmail,” negotiating China’s mystifying bureaucracy, the dangers of libel suits, and how political pressures impact different stories.
During fellowships at the Journalism & Media Studies Centre (JMSC) of the University of Hong Kong, these narratives and other background materials were fact-checked and edited by JMSC staff to address critical issues related to the media transitions currently under way in the PRC. This engaging narrative gives readers a vivid sense of how journalism is practiced in China.
Click here for a full Table of Contents for Investigative Journalism in China.

China’s Best Actor: Wen Jiabao, a new book by Chinese dissident writer Yu Jie (余杰) that hits bookshelves in Hong Kong today but will not (for the obvious reasons) be available in mainland China, has drawn a great deal of interest from international media [and HERE].
The book has raised speculation about whether Yu Jie, who has been under intense security surveillance in China for a few years, will be arrested for what some see as a daring and dangerous show of defiance.
We will not speculate here. But we can offer the following rapid translation of a piece by Yu Jie written for the U.S.-based Guancha Bimonthly last month, which relates Yu’s interesting exchanges with State Security as he was putting the finishing touches on his book.
What follows is just a small portion of the entire exchange as related by Yu Jie:

At about ten in the morning on July 5, 2010, Old Li from the police substation phoned me to say that people from the city police wanted to meet with me at our district office at 3pm that afternoon to have a discussion, and to understand some things from me. I responded that I had no time. And I didn’t have time. I was anxiously finishing up my book China’s Best Actor: Wen Jiabao, which was to go to press in just two weeks time. It may be the job of the State Security guys to invite people to “have tea.” But I can’t fritter my time away like that, and as a citizen I have the right to decline an invitation to tea.
When Old Li heard me say I “didn’t have time,” he had nothing else to say . . . So around 4pm that afternoon, just as I was finishing up a piece called, “Dissolving the State Security is the First Step to Long-term Peace in China,” I suddenly heard an urgent knocking and ringing at the door . . . I saw through the peephole that a group of police were right outside the door.
When I opened the door I found that there were six police in all, four of them plain-clothed and two in uniform. One of the plain-clothed guys, a State Security officer for the Chaoyang District called Mr. Wang, was generally charged with overseeing me, and he accompanied me on trips to the bookstore or the library. The others I hadn’t seen before, but one was carrying a tiny video camera, which was trained on me . . .
I told them I had to change my clothes before we went out. They said they had to come inside, otherwise they couldn’t let me back in to change. So they all crowded in, illegally entering a private residence without a search warrant. I changed in the bathroom and made a phone call to my wife. After putting my signature to the summons form, I accompanied them downstairs . . .
They ushered me into an interrogation room. I sat down, bowed my head and started to pray . . .
At this time, a middle-aged man seated in a position of authority started speaking . . . He started by introducing himself, saying, my surname is Zhu, you should know who I am. I know a lot of your friends, he said. I started observing you years ago. In the whole world, there’s probably more information about you here with me than anywhere else. Before, we each knew the other existed, and finally today we meet face to face. I’m sorry this was the only way we could talk. I’ve heard you have many unfavorable views about me.
I said, the way you’ve handled everything through these years, including all the things your office does, are they good things? How could they leave a good impression with someone? I’ve said many times before to your underlings, let that Mr. Zhu come and see me for himself — there’s no need to go troubling my friends. I understand that you see me as a research topic. When I’m old, if I decide to write a memoir, I’ll come and make use of the materials you’ve gathered. But I’m confident that by that time these materials will no longer be in your hands, just as in the case of East Germany — I’ll go and look at them freely myself.
State Security Zhu said, if you’re willing to meet with me, why is it that this morning when we tried to make an appointment, you said you had no time, so we had no choice but to do it this way?
I said, the Mr. Li who phoned me didn’t say anything about meeting with you. If he had said it was with Mr. Zhu, I’m sure I would have consented. Besides, you should make an appointment a bit earlier than that. You can’t call in the morning and say you want to meet that afternoon. I need to schedule my own time. You’ve done things this way so you can get me off my horse, but that doesn’t intimidate me. These methods do nothing but demonstrate your ridiculousness, the way you have a penchant for destroying China’s image by creating news incidents . . . I’m a person very much at peace. I spend most of my time writing at home. I don’t generally go seeking media attention, and I don’t enjoy being the center of the news . . . Everything that your department does — these are the greatest factors of instability in our society.
State Security Zhu said, so it seems you have come to your own conclusions about our work. I hope that I can clear away these views in our subsequent meetings.
I said, please give me a cup of water.
Eventually, they sent someone down to buy several bottles of Nongfu Spring Water at a nearby shop. They already knew this was what I most liked to drink.
I said, a cup of water from the precinct office would do just fine.
One of the State Security guys off to one side said, the weather is hot, you should drink cooler water . . .
State Security Zhu said, so lately you’ve been quite active on Twitter, but it seems that you’re not listed too high up in terms of followers.
I said, you should dive in and have a look yourself. The stuff I post there isn’t just for my Twitter connections, it’s also for guys like you. I have no secrets to speak of. I don’t like posting shocking material just to win a big following. Some recognition is enough. It’s not about numbers.
State Security Zhu said, let me get right into it. Why don’t you look at this essay and see if it’s something you wrote. He handed me a printed article.
I glanced at it and found that it was my essay, “The Chinese Communist Party is a Taliban in Disguise.” It was something I wrote for Guancha Bimonthly online, posted on April 23. The printed version showed the source and date.
Did you write this, State Security Zhu asked.
I said, of course I wrote it. I put my name to everything I write. I’ve never written anything anonymously. I take responsibility for every piece I write.
State Security Zhu said, look at this sentence about how “the leader of the Communist Party has not only terrorized more than a billion people in China, but seeks to extend the violent rule of the CCP around the world.” What “leader” are you talking about? And what do you mean by “violent rule”?
I said, “party leader” refers to the chairman or general secretary. From Mao Zedong right on down to Hu Jintao. “Violent rule” is bit more complicated. In the Maoist era, tens of millions perished in the Great Starvation, and countless families were destroyed in the Anti-Rightist Movement and the Cultural Revolution. People were gunned down on “June 4th” in the Deng Xiaoping era. And today, children die needlessly as shoddy buildings collapse in the Wenchuan earthquake, or they are poisoned with milk powder and sickened with bad vaccines. If this isn’t “violent rule” then what is it? And then there is the CCP gunning people down in Tibet and Xinjiang.
Another officer who had been silent all along was suddenly goaded into a frenzy. He confronted me, saying, did you not see Uighurs massacring ordinary Hans? The government has an obligation to send police and troops to bring order, and to protect people’s safety and property.
I said, I don’t deny that Uighurs killed Han Chinese, but the violence of the authorities solves nothing. The greatest power of violence is in the hands of the government, and the government must apply it with utmost caution. What’s more, why do you think this ethnic conflict occurred? It’s because the ethnic policies of the government were flawed.
State Security Zhu said, well then, what was your goal in writing this article?
I said, I believe that China’s foreign policy is seriously flawed. First of all, we support all of these rogue nations, those nations involved in acts of terrorism . . . which seriously impacts China’s international image. Moreover, China’s foreign aid and assistance does not go through the approval of the National People’s Congress, and taxpayers have not agreed with how this aid is applied. Aren’t we talking now about openness in government expenditures? So I hope the authorities can make this portion of expenditures public, so that foreign aid is no longer a “secret.” . . .
State Security Zhu said, there is also this book, China’s Best Actor: Wen Jiabao. You’ve said on Twitter that this book will be published in Hong Kong soon. So when will it be finished, when will it be published, and what press is going to publish it?
I said, it will be completed within the month, and printed in two or three. The publishing house isn’t determined yet . . .
State Security Zhu asked, and what is the book principally about?
I said, it’s mostly a criticism of Wen Jiabao’s policies since he has become premier. The focus is on how he hasn’t done enough in the area of political reform, wasting the opportunity given him by history.
State Security Zhu asked, so what are the main chapters and what do they deal with?
I said, well, for example, there is criticism of Wen Jiabao’s economic policies, criticism of his foreign relations policies, his policies in the areas of culture and education, and criticism of his performance in various disaster situations. And of the way in which he destroys law and order in China by tolerating the actions of your department. These are the main parts. I’ve written a special chapter about my own experiences with State Security over these past few years.