Given a targeted official ban against Web portals re-running editorials from Southern Metropolis Daily — a nasty move, but also a nod to the newspaper’s influence among readers — you might not have run across the newspaper’s reflections today on Gansu’s “Walls of Shame”, a story reported yesterday by the official Xinhua News Agency. CMP noted yesterday that the Gansu story begged tough institutional questions about how China’s policy of the “new Socialist countryside” is being implemented at the local level. [PDF of today’s editorial page at Southern Metropolis Daily, pdf_article843.pdf].
The Southern Metropolis Daily editorial does not shrink from the deeper import of the “wall of shame” story. It argues that the idea of a “new countryside” is not about new building projects, or even the making over of peasant homes, but rather about the need for a new conceptual approach to dealing with the welfare of China’s rural poor. The final paragraph directly references related institutional problems, and urges readers to think about them as they read the Gansu story.
Portions of the editorial follow:
Gansu’s Yongjing County has been designated as a national priority area for poverty relief (国家扶贫重点县), with a poverty rate of 10 percent, going as high as 70 percent in some villages and townships. But reporting in the area recently, Xinhua News Agency reporters found that “walls of shame” had been erected in nine places on both sides of the highway, totaling some two kilometers, and that these were there to obstruct the view of the dilapidated home and courtyards of the peasants. What is most significant is that for many of the peasants whose homes have been blocked off by the wall of shame, food and water [supplies] are basic needs, and because they have insufficient money to buy bricks to use in building aqueducts, they cannot get water into the villages. And according to the [Xinhua] report, one meter of this “wall of shame” costs around 100 yuan. According to a leader in one of the villages 40,000 yuan was spent for their 400 meter section of wall.
Perhaps for some Party and government offices, the outer beauty of the countryside and pretended splendor are more important than the real-life realities of these villagers. For some leaders, the broken-down homes stand to affect their achievements fighting poverty [in the eyes of their superiors], and so the idea of a wall to hide their many inadequacies was hatched and quickly carried out. They made no effort to seek the opinions of the villagers … and was they were after was the elevation of their local image, particularly that they would win points in the eyes of their superior leaders when they visited on inspection tours.
This kind of high-wall culture has long been a form of self-protection in traditional culture. It is a kind of precaution against the outside world, designed to provide ease of mind. As our society progresses (随着社会文明进步), many cities have begun to advocate the opening of walls and [the creation of more] green space, allowing the space outside and inside walls come together. Gansu’s Yongjing County has opened a new chapter in the history of wall culture, turning it to another end. They have taken monies intended for the people and applied it to build walls against them, disguising the realities of poverty …
The building of a new countryside is not about the “new building of the villages”. It should not be a new re-packaging of the cultural wall. Nor can we simply achieve it by rebuilding the homes of peasants. What the new countryside demands are new human concepts (人文理念). It is about paying attention to the lives and productivity of the peasants to raise the overall strength of the countryside. Some areas have allowed for the building of villas using rural loan programs, lending the countryside the appearance of modernity virtually overnight, but in the end the peasants are unable to repay these loans and become bankrupt and dispirited. The basic sense of the new countryside is allowing for a countryside capable of sustainable production and living …
As we question the political conscience of these local leaders, we must also ask ourselves about the related [leadership] systems. We must address the system to prevent this “aesthetics of pretense” (假象美学) and ensure various regions are not overrun with walls of shame. This is the key to rooting out vicious local governance that cheats and deceives the world.
[Posted by David Bandurski, April 19, 2007, 2:15pm]

China’s top cultural officials announced at a meeting in Beijing yesterday that the country would institute a new licensing system this year for employment in the cultural sector. Reportedly in the works for five years, the system would mean those employed in close to 30 cultural areas, including the cinematic arts, dance and singing, would be required to undergo professional examination and apply for government-issued licenses.
The purpose of the new system, said officials, was to “raise the level of and character of the cultural industries and their practitioners to satisfy the [goal of] building an advanced Socialist culture.”
Details of the licensing system were not yet available, but Chinese Web users heaped criticism on the new procedures in postings following news coverage at major Web portals.
“I’m sure this is just finding a reason to take money!” fumed one Web user. “Regulations like this are clearly a step backwards, the kind of thing we’d expect to see during the planned economy era. That government offices can think up such policies to suit their own interests, it really makes one doubt their ability to lead!”
Wrote another:
This is a terrible regulation! If you talk about doctors, lawyers, engineers or teachers then requiring a professional license for employment is necessary. But requiring documentation for singing and dancing is too much and inhibits the development of the cultural spirit. True art is of the people, created by the people and belongs to the people.
Others expressed concern that the licensing process would make it impossible for talents like Yang Liping (杨丽萍), a popular singer and dancer from China’s Bai minority, to break through the barriers to success:
If this was how things worked [before], Yang Liping and others like her wouldn’t have had any way of getting out there.

MORE SOURCES:
“Propaganda head Liu Yunshan promotes commercialization of media to strengthen China’s ‘cultural soft power’”
[Posted by David Bandurski, April 19, 2007, 10:39am]

As the “tea causes inflammation” (茶水发炎) controversy and the tragedy of Yang Lijuan grab the eyeballs of consumers, Chinese media are turning to a question very close to home — what are their professional obligations?
In an article yesterday, China Youth Daily, a newspaper published by Chinese Communist Youth League, published the results of a brief survey in which readers were asked whether they felt media were looking after the public interest in carrying out an undercover investigation of hospital care, or whether it had failed to abide by journalistic ethics.
Of 3,309 respondents, the paper said, just under half supported the actions of the media. More than 25 percent said reporting in the case violated journalistic codes, was unprofessional, and did little to improve the “building of a harmonious relationship” between doctors and patients.
China Youth Daily quoted Zhan Jiang (展江), a former CMP fellow and professor of journalism at China Youth University for Political Sciences, as saying: “While the ‘tea causes inflammation’ affair exposes problems in China’s health sector, it also brings conflict over professional journalism ethics before the public.” This was a question, said Zhan, about ways (道义论) and whether they justify the means (目的论).
MORE SOURCES:
“Didn’t you know tea causes inflammation?“, Zhang Ping, Southern Metropolis Daily, April 17, 2007
“Looking at the ‘double edged sword’ of the media through the ‘tea causes inflammation’ case“, Guangming Daily, April 17, 2007
“The ‘tea causes inflammation’ case will become a healthcare anecdote“, Guangming Daily, April 17, 2007
“The ‘tea causes inflammation’ case raises controversy over media ethics“, Xinhua News Agency, April 16, 2007
[Posted by David Bandurski, April 17, 2007, 3:05pm]

Just after 7pm Monday, crews went to work destroying China’s “toughest nail house”, an isolated Chongqing residence where homeowners had vowed for days to fight for their rights and stand up to property developers [Chinese coverage]. As demolition work began, the homeowners reportedly reached a relocation agreement with city authorities. Yesterday, Chinese news media and Internet users turned to post-game analysis of the winners and losers in the standoff over the “nail house” and property rights in China — and the count was by no means unanimous. [BELOW: Screenshot of “nail house” special feature page at QQ.com.][“Nail house” destruction photos via ESWN].

Southern Metropolis Daily, generally home to China’s most outspoken lead editorials (社论), those representing the views of the newspaper, was silent on the “nail house” demolition yesterday, a sign, perhaps, that the outcome was not particularly to the liking of editors there, who might have opted for a more symbolic ending (preservation of a “nail house” monument perhaps?). The newspaper did, however, include a piece by editorial writer and former CMP fellow Yan Lieshan, in which he said he “more or less” agreed with the view that the “nail house” affair was a “major symbolic event following on the heals of the property law”.
“It has already caused people to look carefully and think about relevant laws and regulations, and at the same time has become a living case study in how people should approach the lines between ‘public interest’ and private property, and how they should balance the interest demands of various sides,” Yan Lieshan wrote. “In being managed properly, this provides a good classroom lesson in reaching social consensus.”
In another sign of the growing reverberations between the Web and traditional media in China — a converging of the two opinion environments — Yan Lieshan drew from the comments of one Web user to make a veiled contrast of the “nail house” affair and the crackdown on democracy demonstrations on June 4, 1989: “One week ago, a bold and well-known netizen said to me that she worried that this [“nail house”] affair would snowball into a tragedy in which all sides lost, ‘a replay of the situation back in those years.’ I knew what she was making reference to. At the time, I was rather optimistic, believing that the Chongqing authorities would not lightly resort to strongarm tactics, and that the developer, who had ‘tolerated’ [the situation] for over two years, would not play the bully …”
Yan also offered a passing criticism of foreign media and what he seemed to perceive as their appetite for the story that bleeds. If the “nail house” owners had continued to resist a resolution, he said, if “the Yangs had let emotions run hot, if they had refused to compromise and things led to tragedy, those foreign media who had incited them would not take on any responsibility whatsoever, but in a few days would move on to other news topics like mosquitoes in search of fresh blood.”
An editorial by Yang Zhizhu (杨支柱), an assistant professor at the China Youth University for Political Sciences, argued in Guangzhou’s New Express [article here] that the agreement reached Monday was the “best possible ‘win-win’ situation” for all parties involved. But the editorial stressed that this “win-win” scenario disguised a widespread “relative injustice” (相对不公), namely that the compensation given to other homeowners at the Chongqing development site was unfair, and that by extension the compensation generally given to evicted homeowners across China was inadequate. “It was precisely the universality across the country of this brutal eviction and demolition, of insufficient or delayed compensation, that generated such sympathy and support for the ‘toughest nail house'”, Yang wrote.
Writing for Hangzhou’s Metro Express (都市快报), Xu Xunlei (徐迅雷) said he was “extremely happy” to hear news of the agreement settling the “nail house” affair. “Like the people, we truly don’t wish to see a forced eviction in the face of failure to reach compromise or a peaceful agreement, much less a case of bloodshed,” Xu wrote. “At this time, no matter what the case, we should express our respect for the developer, for the Chongqing government and the courts, and for the media who consistently reported on the affair …”
Internet comments multiplied rapidly yesterday following news of the “nail house” compromise. Many Web users took issue with the suggestion in traditional media that the outcome had been a win-win situation for all sides. But postings were mostly invisible today, suggesting Web portals were being told to keep the topic cool.
“It seems many Websites aren’t allowed to speak [about this] right now? What’s going on? Everything is editorializing about the government’s side,” said one of a handful of responses visible on a Chinese bbs today. “The Chongqing nail house affair underscores how weak and ineffectual the government is,” said the only other remaining post.
As postings on the Web disappeared, perhaps the most enduring legacy left by Internet users was an ironic shift in Chinese semantics. The word “harmonious”, of Hu Jintao’s “harmonious society”, has now yielded a new popular meaning on the Web and in private conversation — “to be harmonized” (被和谐) denotes suppression and containment, so that one, for example, can be “harmonized by the authorities” (被政府和谐). Silenced and resolved.
[Posted by David Bandurski, April 4, 2007, 9:47am]