Author: David Bandurski

Now Executive Director of the China Media Project, leading the project’s research and partnerships, David originally joined the project in Hong Kong in 2004. He is the author of Dragons in Diamond Village (Penguin), a book of reportage about urbanization and social activism in China, and co-editor of Investigative Journalism in China (HKU Press).

NO to election coverage on Weibo

The following Weibo post by former Phoenix TV journalist Luqiu Luwei (闾丘露薇), who also keeps a popular blog on Sina.com, was deleted shortly after 7AM today, September 5, 2016. The post, which comments on elections in Hong Kong, was posted before midnight, lasting for around seven hours before being removed. [Click HERE for more deleted posts from the JMSC’s Weiboscope.]
The Weibo post was accompanied by a photograph of crowds waiting late at night outside a polling station in Hong Kong, which has logged record participation in this year’s election.
A translation of the original Chinese follows:

Voting ended at 10:30 tonight. As of 8:30, 1.8 million people had casts their votes, representing about half of all registered voters. This is a line of people waiting waiting outside one polling station. Perhaps next time, they should get out a bit earlier?

HK elections

Here is the original Chinese-language post:

投票在晚上十点半结束。截止晚上八点半,180万人投票,相当全部合资格选民一半。这是截止前不同票站前等投票的人龙。下次投票,是不是该早点出门?

 

Innovation, so the Party can shine

FIVE YEARS AGO, as Weibo and other platforms were shaping breaking news in China, it was possible to imagine new possibilities for an engaged digital citizenry. Netizens, activists and journalists spoke hopefully about “the surrounding gaze” and the coalescing of “micro-forces” as tens of thousands, even millions, became actively involved with social issues online, often impacting the government response.
Those days are gone. Since 2013, the Chinese Communist Party has moved to reassert its dominance over the message. Not only has General Secretary Xi Jinping, using the strongest language in decades, re-staked the CCP’s longstanding claim to media control — saying all media, from traditional newspapers to mobile platforms, “must be surnamed Party.” He has also moved aggressively against influential Weibo users, effectively muzzled the more outspoken commercial press, and placed himself at the helm of a powerful new Central Leading Group for Cyberspace Affairs.
These days, it is the Party bureaucrat, as much or more than the netizen, who can look at the changes convulsing the world of media and information and see a world of infinite possibilities. As the media landscape is being reshaped globally, China’s leaders glimpse an opportunity to climb back to the top of the hill. The Chinese Communist Party, they say, can lead the innovation charge, ensuring the brave new world of new media defends and energises its own dominant position.

Xinhua CCP video

[ABOVE: Screenshot of a Xinhua News Agency multimedia project released in June this year to celebrate the anniversary of the Chinese Communist Party.]
On September 1, a page four piece in the People’s Daily, placed right beside a report on a bland speech by propaganda chief Liu Qibao (刘奇葆), outlined the immense opportunities that come with media innovation. The piece, called “Innovation, Making the Main Theme Even Brighter” (创新,让主旋律更响亮), was written by reporter Zhang Yang (张洋).
At one point, Zhang Yang’s article notes with evident pride the changes and innovations the People’s Daily made to the front page of its print edition on August 22, in the midst of of the Rio Olympics.
Basically, the newspaper, which is infamous in China and beyond for its dull and obsessive focus on meetings, tours and speeches by senior Party leaders, decided on that particular day to lead with — wait for it — sports news.
The photo at the top right of page one was not of Xi Jinping striding down a red carpet with a visiting dignitary. It was of a member of China’s national women’s volleyball team, which took gold in its match against Serbia, spiking the ball over the net. The photo accompanied a soaring commentary called “Strength, the Female Volleyball Spirit!” that had, according to Zhang Yang, “stirred the feelings of the public.”
For the staid People’s Daily, this front page may qualify as innovative. But that, as staffers at the newspaper would probably readily admit themselves in private, is an exceptionally low bar. However, before we roll our eyes at the inherent absurdity of the People’s Daily innovating, we should look more seriously at the innovation happening beyond the printed page, appreciating the immense resources the media group has at its disposal.
Zhang Yang’s piece quickly moves beyond this very limited notion of breakthrough to the group’s attempts to broaden its reach for the benefit of the Party’s “main theme,” an old buzzword referring to its political line.
How have state media tried to sex up coverage of Xi Jinping while keeping it serious? Well, Zhang Yang can tell you.
A partial translation of the People’s Daily piece is below the jump. I have not translated substantial portions including the specifics of how the People’s Daily, Xinhua News Agency and China Central Television have approached coverage in the digital era — but they are worth a look in Chinese for anyone interesting in learning more in this area.
For those who wish still to relish the hokey nature of much of the CCP’s propaganda material, however “innovative,” we commend this video produced by Xinhua News Agency, also mentioned with praise by Zhang Yang. One-dimensional messages and cheap emotions aside, it is impossible to deny that productions like this one demonstrate much better technical skill than many productions in the past.

Innovation, Making the Main Theme Even Brighter” (创新,让主旋律更响亮)

Touchscreen reading (触屏阅读) has not only changed our means of disseminating knowledge, but has revolutionised the way we live. Digital media have not only accelerated the rate at which information is refreshed, but have also changed our social mentality. The public opinion environment, media patterns and modes of transmission — all have undergone profound changes, demanding that the Party’s news and public opinion work face the task of strengthening innovation.
At the Party’s News and Public Opinion Work Forum on February 19 this year, General Secretary Xi Jinping emphasised: “As circumstances develop, the concepts, content, styles, forms, methods, industry formats, systems and mechanisms that drive the Party’s news and public opinion work must change, so that the direction and effectiveness [of our work] is raised.” These words clearly and concisely point the direction for raising the quality and efficiency of the Party’s news and public opinion work. Only if we constantly advance as we resolve problems, and aggressively innovate as we face challenges, can we constantly strengthen and solidify mainstream public opinion, better promote the main theme (弘扬主旋律), transmit positive energy (传播正能量), grasp discourse power (掌握话语权) and raise influence.
The Battleground Is Where the Audience Is: Building a New Pattern of Public Opinion Channeling

At around 9:11 p.m. Beijing time on August 21, when China’s women’s volleyball team won gold [at Rio], reports about the match were everywhere. The People’s Daily showed great originality, not limiting itself to just one approach, resolutely deciding to no longer make constant repetitions of its text reporting. It tried a new approach with layered headline, image and commentary. When the front page came out on the 22nd, the headline “A Super Gold, Never Forget Your Heart” stood out on its own, and the [accompanying] commentary, “Strength, the Female Volleyball Spirit!” stirred the feelings of the public. As the newspaper innovated in terms of content and layout, [our] new media platforms worked in concert, and within an hour of coming out, the commentary had logged 380,000 views.
Wherever the audience is, that is the battleground for news and public opinion. Lately, the People’s Daily has already developed from a newspaper into a media group with more than 400 end products (终端) spanning more than 10 media types including newspapers, magazines, websites, television, radio, electronic displays, mobile papers, Weibo, WeChat and apps — encompassing an audience of more than 350 million. At the same time, we have created a Media Hub (中央厨房) operational system, encompassing both domestic and international [markets] and connecting the entire [media production] chain, thereby achieving resource sharing (资源共享), platform sharing (平台共用), joint collaboration (创意共生) and mutual output (成果共推). [In this way, we have] tentatively achieved convergence of planning (融策划), convergence of [content] gathering (融采集), convergence of production (融制作) and convergence of distribution (融传播).
On June 20, Xinhua News Agency released its micro-film multimedia product, “Red Temperament” (红色气质), made for the 95th anniversary of the foundation of the Chinese Communist Party, which gathered more than 200 million views. This is just one example of the the innovation of news products by Xinhua News Agency. Beginning from last year, Xinhua News Agency, emphasising innovation of content, advanced all at once new innovations in terms of its channels, mechanisms, personnel and technology, working hard to realise “three major transformations” (三大转变) in its news products and its supply services, making the transition from supplying traditional media demands to supplying multimedia demands . . . .
Enriching Styles and Methods, Fully Utilising the Advantages of the Development of Convergence

The demands of audiences are now much greater than ever before, and their ideas and concepts are more diverse than ever. Patterns of dissemination have been fragmented and differentiated. Relevant departments and the media have actively accommodated the change in circumstances, steadily diversifying their styles and methods, energetically promoting convergent development (融合发展), working to achieve a broadly encompassing dissemination through a multi-layered reporting system.
. . . . .
Innovation is an embodiment of the Party nature (党性); innovation is the realisation of guidance; innovation is a commitment to responsibility. Right now, “newness” is the objective before us, “newness” is what spurs us on, making innovation a normal state, and steadily strengthening the transmission, guidance force and influence of the Party’s news and public opinion.

Constitutional Hostility

Three long years ago, liberals and human rights advocates in China took heart from the idea that basic rights such as freedom of speech might be secured by fighting for the legal application of their country’s constitution. In January 2013, just weeks after Xi Jinping offered a hearty defence of the constitution on the occasion of its 30th anniversary, an influential pro-reform journal wrote that “making our constitution real would mean real progress toward political reform.” Moreover, the journal argued, full and serious implementation would stem rising social discontent by providing basic rights, to be ensured by “related institutional guarantees.”
Today, these constitutional hopes are being turned on their head by the serious application of more ideologically extreme language contained in this “fundamental law of the state,” first adopted on December 4, 1982.
Praising the recent verdicts against four legal rights advocates, all of whom were found guilty of “subversion of the state” in cases stemming from the arrest last year of more than 300 lawyers and activists, an August 6 commentary in the Chinese Communist Party’s People’s Daily newspaper said:

“Our nation’s constitution points out in a clear-cut manner, that, ‘The Chinese people must carry out struggle against domestic and foreign hostile forces and hostile elements that antagonise and damage our country’s socialist system.’”

The deployment against human rights activists of this constitutional passage about “hostile forces” is a sobering reminder of a contradiction that lies deep in the political DNA of the Chinese Communist Party — the notion that the flesh-and-blood people of China are ruptured into two struggling camps: those who willingly submit to the will of the Party, and those “enemies” who oppose “the people” and the “socialist transformation.”

pd1
An August 6 commentary on “hostile forces” in the People’s Daily.
This idea has its origins in Mao Zedong’s infamous February 1957 speech on “internal contradictions among the people,” a shrill call to arms that urged ahead the Anti-Rightist Movement, sentencing millions of writers, artists, teachers and journalists to “re-education through labour” and other forms of punishment.
In his speech, which came to light only months later, Mao Zedong spoke of the need to “clearly distinguish between ourselves and the enemy, between right and wrong.” According to Mao’s diabolical calculus, basic human rights were denied opponents of the regime, burnishing, meanwhile, its democratic credentials:

Right now we talk about the system of democratic centralism, and this system is only applied within the purview of the people. So long as they are not enemies, they are the people, and within this purview there can be no question of dictatorship. The people cannot rule over themselves as dictators, because these people enjoy freedom of expression, freedom of assembly, freedom of association and freedom of procession and demonstration. These are written in the [1954] constitution.

Quoting the constitutional passage about “hostile forces,” the August 6 People’s Daily commentary argues that it is the “constitutional duty” of every Chinese “citizen,” or gongmin (公民), to protect national security. We should note, however, that the “hostile forces” passage refers not to citizens but to “the people” — and as many an official website can tell you:

The citizen is a legal concept, referring to anyone with nationality in our country. The people is a political concept, opposed to the idea of the enemy, and any class, group or social community that protects socialism and the integrity of the motherland falls within the scope of the people.

The term “hostile forces,” or didui shili (敌对势力), which rose to prominence in China during the political struggles of 1959, is a catchall phrase for the Party’s enemies, both internal and external, and a prime example of what my colleague, China Media Project director Qian Gang (钱钢), has called “aggressive discourse.”
Phrases of this kind — which include the likes of “westernised division,” or the idea of a grand conspiracy to destroy China through westernisation of its culture and institutions — are the bullets and bombshells of Chinese political discourse. They crop up with greater intensity in times of real or perceived vulnerability for the Chinese Communist Party.
For example, historical peaks for “hostile forces” in the People’s Daily include the aftermath of the violent crackdown on democracy protests in June 1989, and the suppression of the Falun Gong spiritual movement in 1999. Like other aggressive terminologies, “hostile forces” can be deployed against unspecified foreign enemies, or against domestic enemies both inside and outside the Party. At his recent trial, human rights activist Zhai Yanmin (翟岩民) turned the phrase on himself, stating in court that he now understood that he had been hoodwinked by false and dangerous ideas.

I willingly come forward that I may serve as an example, that my profound lesson will alert others and open their eyes, that they may see clearly the repulsive features of the external hostile forces, and of domestic persons with ulterior motives. They must not be deceived by the so-called ‘democracy,’ ‘human rights’ and the ‘public welfare’ they put on parade, leading them to criminal behaviour.

Speaking to the New York Times after the trial, Zhai’s wife disavowed his supposed confession. “What I heard was not what my husband would say,” she said.
Nor, in fact, did Zhai’s confession accord with the character of much of China’s constitutional language. Are citizens supposed to forget that the constitution was amended to include the term “human rights” in March 2004, at roughly the time that China’s rights defence movement was picking up steam?
That the class struggle DNA of China’s constitution should be exploited so openly today is a further sign of the extreme nature of the current political environment.
Even within the Chinese Communist Party, the question of “judicial enforcement of China’s constitution” (中国宪法司法化) — how, in other words, to give legal force to the rights it purports to guarantee — has been a longstanding issue taken seriously by legal scholars, and the “fiercely political” nature of much of the document’s language has been regarded generally as an impediment to be cleared away through the course of legal development.
For example, this 2010 piece in the People’s Tribune, a journal published by none other than the People’s Daily, puts political jargon at the top of its list of issues afflicting the constitution:

First of all, judging from the text of the constitution itself, we note that content of a political and programmatic nature predominates. Many principles and much content has been politicised and sloganised (口号化).

Despite Xi Jinping’s professed interest in “rule of law” as a guiding force in China, all bets are off where meaningful legal reform is concerned, and there is no better illustration of this than the crackdown on rights lawyers. Even basic ideas long accepted in principle by the Chinese Communist Party, such as “judicial independence,” are now off limits.
The wave of pro-reform constitutional fervour that came in the wake of Xi Jinping’s rise to power now seems a distant memory of self-delusion.
Out of curiosity, however, I decided to reach back into the past to uncover the last time the “hostile forces” language of China’s constitution had been actively deployed in China’s media as an argument against dissident views or activity.
Peeling back the layers, year after year, through both the Baidu and Google search engines, I could find nothing — no reference whatsoever outside of full-text offerings of the constitution itself. I turned to the People’s Daily, back beyond the Beijing Olympics, beyond SARS and the Sun Zhigang affair, through the era of Jiang Zemin, past Deng Xiaoping’s southern tour, that watershed event that accelerated economic development in China.
Then, finally, there it was:

Faced with their offensive, we have no choice and no route of escape. The only way is to answer with resolute blows, fulfilling the sacred responsibility bequeathed to us by our country’s constitution, [which says] ‘The Chinese people must carry out struggle against domestic and foreign hostile forces and hostile elements that antagonise and damage our country’s socialist system.’ Good people, we must be on the alert, our eyes open and clear, and we must resolutely struggle against the reactionary few!

The piece was called “What Does It Tell Us That Serious Incidents Have Occurred in Some Cities?” It appeared at the bottom of the front page, beside another commentary called “There Must Be No Interference in China’s Internal Affairs.”
The day was June 14, 1989.

Convergent Control

AT A MEETING IN BEIJING last week, the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC), the country’s umbrella agency for internet regulation and control and related security matters, called together more than 60 representatives from state-run websites and commercial internet portals to hammer home, yet again, a tough message on information controls.
According to Hong Kong media reports, the CAC told those present that from this point forward a system of “editor-in-chief responsibility” (总编辑责任制) would be in force at priority websites, meaning authorities would hold senior staff directly responsible for news stories and other content that violated censorship guidelines. Strengthened internal discipline, the CAC said, must be practiced on a “24/7” basis (7×24小时值), leaving no gaps for editorial breaches.

xi

[ABOVE: A special page on a state media site advertises “Xi Jinping’s Cybersecurity Outlook.”]
This tough line may in some respects sound like familiar old stuff. Seasoned observers of Chinese internet policy will likely recall Hu Jintao’s campaign 10 years ago for a “civilised internet,” which came with a self-discipline pact from major commercial internet portals — and coincided with a moral rectification program called the “Eight Honors and Eight Disgraces” (八荣八耻).
But these actions under President Xi Jinping are part of a far more serious push to strengthen Party control across media platforms, smothering potential channels of dissent, broadly defined, while allowing just enough oxygen to sustain what the leadership regards as a healthy cyberspace.
Since last month, a number of innovative offerings at internet portals — often special columns taking an in-depth, explanatory or investigative approach to news and current affairs  — have been shut down. Examples include Sina’s “News Dig” (新闻极客), its motto “digging out the truth” (挖掘真相), and Sohu’s “People In The News” (新闻当事人).
honors

[ABOVE: Now consigned to the trash heap of CCP purification campaigns . . . Does anyone remember the “Eight Honors and Eight Disgraces”?]
These and other programs were creative and popular ways for internet portals to work around government restrictions that prohibited news gathering, or caifang (采访), restricting them to aggregation of news reported by licensed mainstream outlets. The relevant restrictions here come from Article 16 of the 2005 Provisions for the Administration of Internet News, which state that websites disseminating news “must republish and release news and information from central news units, or from news units subordinate to provinces, autonomous regions or municipalities directly under the central government.” (For another look at this longstanding restriction, see our 2010 coverage of the censorship gaffe during the annual Spring Festival Gala on China Central Television.)
Under Xi Jinping, China has moved to further systematise and legalise stricter controls on information across the board under a broad national security mandate. This, of course, is the raison d’être of the Cyberspace Administration of China, also known as the Office of the Central Leading Group for Cyberspace Affairs, chaired by none other than President Xi Jinping.
Adjustments earlier this year to the 2005 provisions on internet news were a big part of this, and they paved the way for this most recent push to more closely control websites and news apps. Changes made clear that websites must ensure they have an editor-in-chief at the helm of content operations –   in other words, a head to chop off — and that this person must be a Chinese citizen. The changes even stipulated that website editors should not “twist headlines” –   this an attempt to close the narrowest of gaps for creative suggestion (such as labelling as a “tragedy” rather than an “accident” a disaster involving potentially serious human error).
xu lin

ABOVE: Xu Lin, appointed in June as director of the Cyberspace Administration of China, replacing the controversial Lu Wei.]
The CAC has topped off its adjustments to the 2005 provisions with a string of other regulations. One regulation taking effect on the first of this month demands that mobile apps require real-name user registration and keep 60-day logs of user activity. Another regulation, also effective August 1, tightens obligations on Chinese search engines to restrict and report prohibited content.
The CAC said last month that it was focusing its recent actions on Sina, Sohu, Netease, Phoenix Online and other major commercial websites because these had been home to “extensive legal and regulatory violations” (大量违法违规行为). The agency is also, however, targeting mobile apps and WeChat public accounts. This can be taken as a signal that the CAC is applying these restrictions with greater seriousness, making good on Xi Jinping’s pledge back in February to ensure all media, and not just trusted state media, are “surnamed Party” –   in other words, that they adhere to the Party’s propaganda discipline.
But as I’ve said before, Xi Jinping wants more than just control of media and information, and to re-assert the Party’s dominance over the message. He also wants to push innovation and mould China into an “internet strong nation,” or wangluo qianguo (网络强国). What does that mean exactly? It means an integrated strategy by which the Party can control and discipline the internet while at the same time building it into a booming creative enterprise.
Control and innovation must work hand-in-hand. Or, you might think of it this way: China’s internet must be leashed before it can be unleashed.
Looking back on the history of media and technology development in China over the past 36 years, one could argue that the Chinese Communist Party has suffered a series of shocks as it has sought to contain public opinion but at the same time accommodate global developments and maintain competitiveness. The political events of 1989 were understood in the aftermath as having stemmed in large measure from media control failures  —  from an excess of license on the party of Zhao Ziyang. The loss of the agenda in 2003, in the midst of SARS and the Sun Zhigang affair, was the culmination of a decade of media commercialisation as China sought integration with the global economy, and the result of the paradigm-shifting technology of the internet. The same holds for the advent of social media, including Weibo, which by 2011 were devastating the Party’s attempts (under Hu Jintao’s 2008 policies) to rein in commercial media and the internet.
This episodic loosening and tightening is not acceptable to Xi Jinping. He is working to integrate and converge Party control and media development. But don’t take my word for it. Here is the president addressing the Cyberspace Work Conference on April 19 this year:

In our country, more than 700 million people are online, so of course this necessitates management. . . . Enterprises must take on their responsibility; the Party and the government must take on their responsibility. Neither side can relinquish its responsibility. Websites must have primary responsibility for the management of online information, and government administrative departments must strengthen their oversight. Departments in charge must establish close coordination, avoiding the situation we have often had in the past, in which “as soon as things are loosened chaos results, and as soon as things are controlled death results” (一放就乱、一管就死). We must travel a new path of concerted effort and positive interaction (齐抓共管、良性互动).

It is this marriage of control and innovation, this “new path of concerted effort and positive interaction,” that distinguishes Xi Jinping’s media policy from that of his predecessors. Yes, this has always to some extent been implied: the Party has sought to maintain strategic control politically and ideologically while encouraging development. But in this case, Xi wants to place the Party at the centre of innovation, whether that innovation involves control mechanisms or new technologies and products.
The Party wants a stake in the entire process of media and information — and in some cases that means an actual holding of shares.

forum

ABOVE: Representatives from Party and government offices, and from major internet media, meet in Shenzhen for the 2016 Media Convergence Development Forum from August 21–22.]
This convergence of control and innovation can be readily seen at Shenzhen’s “2016 Media Convergence Development Forum,” held this week against the backdrop of this most recent crackdown on programming at major internet portals.
The theme of the forum, hosted jointly by the official People’s Daily and Shenzhen’s municipal Party committee, is “responsibility and mission” (职责与使命), a reference to President Xi Jinping’s February 19 media speech, in which he said:

Media workers must always bear in mind their responsibility and mission in news and public opinion work, firmly upholding the correct political orientation and basic principles, raising the level of news and public opinion work, raising the communication force, guiding force, influence and credibility of the Party’s news and public opinion.

This “responsibility and mission” is the convergence of control and innovation. As Xi Jinping said in the same speech, all media are “surnamed Party,” and all must follow the Party’s line. But it is not enough to avoid committing fouls. Media must steadily seek product innovation as well, ensuring not just the dominance but the attractiveness of “the Party’s news and public opinion.”
Speaking at the convergence forum on Monday, People’s Daily editor-in-chief Li Baoshan (李宝善) said that “in the internet age, the rapid development of digital communication technologies has profoundly changed the pattern of information transmission,” whether this meant “mobile over desktop consumption” or a content production environment in which “everyone has a microphone.” This, said Li, posed an “immense challenge to mainstream media,” or zhuliu meiti (主流媒体), by which he meant the dominant Party-state media.
One important answer to this challenge is intermarriage, not unlike the ancient practice of the “peace marriage,” or heqin (和親), in which emperors arranged nuptials between members of the royal family and sovereigns of neighbouring states.
And so, a reported highlight of the Shenzhen forum this week was the official launch of the China Media Convergence Cloud (中国媒体融合云), described by official media as “an important component of a strategic innovation agreement signed between the People’s Daily and Tencent.” The “convergence cloud” aims to “provide all media partners with various functions such as new media content provision, big data operation (大数据运营) and artificial intelligence, resolving in a single service (一站式解决) the challenges of technology development . . . and breaking through convergence bottlenecks.”
This tie-up between the Chinese Communist Party’s flagship media group and the private operator of the Chinese messaging super-app WeChat, is one step in a larger push to centrally produce mobile internet content.

sichuan

[ABOVE: A signing ceremony was held last month for an agreement between Sichuan Daily and the People’s Daily for the provision of multimedia content through the People’s Daily’s new platform, “Central Kitchen.”]
This follows a spate of coverage back in April this year in which official state media, including China Central Television, talked about the development of the “central kitchen” (中央厨房), or media hub, approach to news and content production, including the maintenance of “an archive of convergence media material to be shared and jointly used for new media news editing and production.” The People’s Daily began developing its “Media Hub” (中央厨房) in 2014, and formally launched the service on February 19 this year. That’s right, the “Media Hub” was launched on the very day of Xi Jinping’s all-important speech on news and public opinion work.
Addressing the Shenzhen forum this week, Ren Xianliang (任贤良), the deputy director of the Cyberspace Administration of China, said that “persisting in the development of [media] convergence required the steady strengthening of internet thinking (互联网思维), and the exchange of experiences.” At its base, of course, that thinking had to accord with the Party’s priorities.
”Media convergence,” said Ren, resorting to one of the oldest media control phrases in the Party lexicon, “must persist in correct guidance.”

Hot Peppers for a New China

I WROTE last month about the short-lived critical tradition in Chinese newspapers in the early 1950s, soon after the establishment of the People’s Republic of China. It was a time of newfound peace and promise, and for journalists at many newspapers it meant seeking new space for the advance of reporting and the innovation of form.
President Xi Jinping has favoured the idea of “innovation” in recent years — with the prospect of new media technologies, and the push for newly creative measures to restrain their destabilising impact. Media innovation, however, is as old as the hills in China.
With that in mind, we share a translated excerpt of a wonderful piece in the August 2003 issue of the journal Yanhuang Chunqiu, in which Zhong Peizhang (钟沛璋), who began his career as a journalist in the 1940s, reflects back on his early work at China Youth Daily. A key focus of his recollection is former colleague Zhang Liqun (张黎群), who was swept up in the first wave of the 1957 Anti-Rightist Campaign after remarks he made at a Beijing forum on journalism.

It was in 1949, not long after the liberation of Shanghai, that I first met Zhang Liqun. I had launched the Youth Daily (青年报) in Shanghai, the first newspaper in New China oriented toward young readers. One day, a handsome young guest, brimming with confidence, arrived at the newsroom. That was Zhang Liqun.
His girlfriend had recently been transferred to the Youth Daily and he had come to pay her a visit. Only later did I realise that this youthful looking man, so resembling my twenty-something comrades at the Youth Daily, was in fact a toughened old revolutionary. And naturally I had no idea at all that before long this young revolutionary would become my leader and my colleague.
In 1954 I was transferred to Beijing’s China Youth Daily to serve as deputy editor-in-chief. It wasn’t long after that that Zhang Liqun was transferred over as editor-in-chief. Working under the leadership of Liqun was a joyful experience. He had two distinct characteristics: first, his courage to push innovation and break new ground, and second, his knack for giving his cadres a free hand.

Zhang Liqun
Zhang Liqun, deputy chief editor of China Youth Daily before the Anti-Rightist Campaign of 1957.
The entire newsroom at China Youth Daily, like the Youth Daily (青年报) launched several years earlier, was a crew full of life and creativity. In moving from Shanghai to Beijing, and to the China Youth Daily, I felt no sense of unfamiliarity or constraint whatsoever, and very quickly I was able to showcase my own abilities and know-how. I worked with another deputy editor-in-chief, comrade Chen Mo (陈模). While he was responsible for youth activities and for advertising the work of the Youth League, I was responsible for culture, education, ideology and theory.
Youth activities were all about guiding the youth and boosting their morale so that they devoted their youth to socialism. Culture, education, ideology and theory were about fostering the full development of youth as new Communists. I should point out that the leader of the Youth League at that time was comrade Hu Yaobang (胡耀邦), an ardent revolutionary who had joined the Red Army and the revolution in his own youth. He was someone who could rouse ideas, a true mentor and friend to the youth.
Every Sunday night Hu Yaobang would have us over to his home to talk about the publication and propaganda work. China Youth Daily, he said, should become a clarion call to stimulate the youth. Back at the news room, I drafted a work report on this issue and urged our comrades to put forward ideas on how we could lend the newspaper fighting strength and liveliness.
Zhong Peizhang
The author, Zhong Peizhang, an editor at China Youth Daily shortly after the foundation of the PRC in 1949.
Under Zhang Liqun’s leadership, with the united strength and creativity of my comrades, I led the publication of several supplements that at the time had great influence on the journalism profession. They included Hot Pepper (辣椒) and Sunday (星期天). The Hot Pepper supplement was about courageously tackling the uglier aspects of our society and the trend of corruption emerging among cadres in the New China — while at the same time urging the youth to fashion a splendid new world. Hot Pepper had a tremendous influence almost immediately. People felt the keen and constructive criticism in the supplement spoke to what people kept in their hearts. Hot peppers are spicy, but they are full of nutrition too; they promote perspiration and help clear up ailments.
Other newspapers, especially youth oriented publications, came out with their own special columns and supplements similar to Hot Pepper, and all told they amounted to a formidable force of supervision by public opinion (舆论监督), earning the support of the masses — but at the same time making certain people uneasy.
Sunday was about enriching the lives of the youth during their down time. In those days, everyone, man or woman, wore the same colour and style of clothing, what we called “the people’s attire.” Western journalists used the term “blue ants” to describe us. The people of China had achieved liberation, but the youth were still restrained by old feudal traditions and they were “incapable of laughing at a bit of drama, or skipping along the road.” It was as though [people felt] the more you didn’t talk about the joys of life, the more “revolutionary” you were.
I remember the time when I joined the first youth delegation from the New China to visit Japan, and Japanese young people would ask me eagerly: “When you young people in China seek out partners, does it matter what they look like?” In the Sunday supplement we said to the youth: you should be diligent and hard-working, but you should also learn how to live, to have the courage to lead the way and don “flowered clothing.” You should learn how to find the beauty in life, making your life richer and more colourful.
China Youth Daily also created a number of other sections that were welcomed by our readers, like “Three-Day Chalk Talk” (思想三日谈). In this column we ran a lot of punchy and lively thought essays, using Marxist points of view to pull apart all sorts of reservations young people had. This was seen by youth as a lantern of ideas to light the way. One short piece, “If You Never Fall, You Never Learn to Walk,” was praised by Chairman Mao Zedong. Mao Zedong said: “I love to read China Youth Daily, but I don’t enjoy reading the People’s Daily.”
Certainly, China Youth Daily at that time was beloved not just by young people, but also by the middle-aged and the elderly. A lot of brother publications looked to China Youth Daily. I remember that when the Liberation Army Daily was launched, they sent a small group the the China Youth Daily newsroom to gain experience. I received them with respect and humility, sharing our experiences. Receiving wave after wave of approval, Comrade Liqun urged us not to rest on our laurels — we needed constant innovation and improvement. He personally picked a number of comrades to form a small experience group (总结经验小组) to draw up proposals on how to make China Youth Daily even better. Lots of proposals were drawn up, but before we had a chance to finalise our plans, misfortune crept up on the newspaper, and indeed crept up on the people of China. This was what we call the Anti-Rightist Campaign.
What began as “rectification,” encouraging everyone to speak their minds, later became “conspiracy” — “inviting the snakes out of their holes,” and snaring the “rightists.” At a journalism forum in May 1957, Comrade Liqun shared a number of his views on how to improve newspapers, and at one point he said that newspapers should not simply be “phonographs” and “notice boards,” but should also have their own style, their own characteristics and their own language, that there should be different voices.
The journalism forum was reported in the People’s Daily, and so the views of Liqun and a number of others made it into the newspaper.
Not long after that, at the direction of the highest leadership, the People’s Daily ran an official editorial called, “Why Is This?”, announcing the start of the “anti-rightist struggle.” A number of outright opinions about reform were regarded as “anti-Party, anti-socialist rightist speech.” And a number of famous journalists overnight became “rightists.” Zhang Liqun, whose speech about phonographs and notice boards had been reported openly in the People’s Daily, naturally had nowhere to run.

“We will not give an inch”

CHINA is not doubling down on the “nine-dash line” argument, which as I wrote yesterday has never been pushed insistently through the official People’s Daily. The term does not appear in the Chinese Communist Party’s flagship newspaper today, but the South China Sea issue is of course there — and the language over yesterday’s decision by an international arbitration court is resolute and angry.
There are three articles on the arbitration verdict on the front page of today’s People’s Daily, including a formal statement from the Government of the People’s Republic of China that has apparently not yet been translated into English. It reiterates many of the same points, going through the “2,000-year history of China’s activities in the South China Sea” and how it has established its sovereignty “continuously, peacefully and effectively.” It stakes China’s claims with emphatic bullet points.

pd 1 July 13 2016

Next, at bottom left, comes yesterday’s statement, available in English, from the Foreign Ministry.
Finally, at bottom right, is a commentary penned by a “commentary writer from this newspaper” (本报评论员), which on the front page generally denotes an official position from the Central Committee of the CCP. The piece, “China’s Resolve Cannot Be Shaken in Protecting its Territorial Sovereignty and Rights and Interests in the South China Sea,” is a good illustration of the official animus over this decision under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS).
. . . . . .

On July 12, 2016, the Philippines South China Sea arbitration case, in defiance of basic facts, wantonly trampling on international law and the basic principles of international relations, announced a so-called “arbitration ruling” that seriously damaged China’s territorial sovereignty and its rights and interests in the South China Sea. The Chinese government and the people of China resolutely oppose this, and will neither accept nor recognise it.
The people of China have lived and produced for generations in the South China Sea, and they long ago become the masters of the South China Sea islands. Successions of Chinese governments have administered the islands through administrative exercise, military patrols, production and business, maritime salvage and other means, and China long ago established (确定) its unquestionable sovereignty over the South China Sea islands and the neighbouring sea area. For centuries, amidst the winds of change, even as the islands of the South China Sea were for a time suffered harm by invaders, China’s resolve in protecting its territorial sovereignty and its rights and interests in the South China Sea has never been shaken.
For this the brave sons and daughters of China (中华) have made continuous and substantial sacrifices. Since ancient times, China has said: “The strong must not oppress the weak, and the rich must not bully the poor.” As for that territory that does not belong to us, we do not claim an inch of it. But for that territory that does belong to us, we will not give an inch. China will take every necessary measure to protect its territorial sovereignty and ensure that its rights and interests in the South China Sea are not violated, and all thoughts of intruding on China’s territorial sovereignty and its rights and interests in the South China Sea are delusions.
The Chinese people are a people who ardently love peace, and the blood of peace flows through our veins. As the largest nation bordering on the South China Sea, China sets out from a general situation of peace and stability, and over many decades on the South China Sea question it has always maintained exceptional restraint, never taking the initiative in provoking dispute — nor has it ever taken any actions that might complicate or magnify the controversy. The Chinese side has adhered all along to the preservation of peace and stability in the South China Sea, continuing to resolve disputes through discussion and negotiation, continuing to control divisions through rules-based mechanisms, continuing to preserve freedom of navigation and flight in the South China Sea, continuing to achieve mutual benefit through cooperation. Through the efforts of various sides, the South China Sea region has left the shadow of the Cold War, maintaining long-term peace and stability, taking a path of booming development, and freedom of navigation and flight have been fully protected.
Still, with direct control and encouragement by external forces (外部势力), the government of Philippine President Benigno S. Aquino III and the court of arbitration defied basic facts and departed from basic legal principles, acting with wilful disregard under the banner of principle and rule of law, under false government pretences and out of personal interest, seeking a twisted application of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea with the objective of denying China’s territorial sovereignty and its rights and interests in the South China Sea. As for this complete and utter political provocation, China of course will not accept it. This is a necessary act in preserving China’s territorial integrity and rights and interests in the South China Sea, and it is also about preserving the dignity and status of international law, in the interests of practicing justice in international law.
Many countries and organisations internationally, as well as many discerning people, have expressed support for China’s position. International legal experts have also come forward to express their concern over the abuse of this compulsory arbitration procedure, believing that the Philippine’s tribunal case on the South China Sea has damaged the integrity of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea as a mechanism for dispute settlement, damaged the international seas regime established by the Convention, and that it threatens the current international order.
To satisfy the needs of the moment, the government of Philippine President Benigno S. Aquino III has damaged international law and harmed the rights and interests of China. The tribunal’s decision, as a “puppet” (提线木偶) of external forces, is a pointless farce, and it will be rejected by history and by the times.
Whether the past, the present or the future, any conduct that purports to challenge China’s baseline will be like dropping stones on one’s own foot. The resolve of the Chinese people in protecting their territorial sovereignty and their rights and interests in the South China Sea cannot be shaken.

Reading the “Nine-Dash” Line

TODAY an international tribunal ruled against China’s claim to almost exclusive control over the South China Sea on the basis of the so-called “nine-dash line” — a demarcation boundary that first appeared on a naval map in 1947 (then as an eleven-dash line). The ruling was made in favour of the Philippines under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), to which both countries are signatories.
We won’t review the back and forth of this process, or discuss its regional implications. However, this dispute is virtually assured front-page play in tomorrow’s edition of the Chinese Communist Party’s official People’s Daily. So we want to provide you with preemptive context.
How exactly has the “nine-dash line” played in the Party’s flagship newspaper over the breadth of the PRC’s history?
In fact, the phrase “nine-dash line” has appeared just 15 times in the entire history of the newspaper, and in just six separate articles. Moreover, the first of those articles came on August 1, 2012, less than three months before Xi Jinping came to power. There were three articles in 2014 (that’s right, none in 2013), and so far there have been two this year, the latest on July 5.
The phrase has never made it on the front page of the People’s Daily. But that could possibly change tomorrow.
The first reference to the nine-dash line appears at the back of the August 1, 2012, edition of the People’s Daily, in an article about the Philippine’s auctioning of oil blocks in the South China Sea.

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[ABOVE: The first reference to the nine-dash line appears at the back of the August 1, 2012, edition of the People’s Daily, in an article about the Philippine’s auctioning of oil blocks in the South China Sea.]
For its first appearance in the People’s Daily, the “nine-dash line” snuck in the back door, making page 23 of the paper in an article filed from Bangkok called, “Auctions of a Portion of Oil Blocks Violates China’s Interests.” The story began: “According to the understanding of this newspaper’s reporter, two of the oil blocks are located within my [country’s] ‘nine-dash line’, and belong to territorial waters, a matter on which China voiced serious objection to the Philippines last year.”
Can you spot the article on the page to the left? Not easily. That’s because it’s tiny — up in the top right-hand corner of the page, with a little tag that reads “Philippines.”
The report goes on to provide details on three separate oil plot auctions in the South China Sea, citing websites in the Philippines.
For the next piece, on April 1, 2014, the term “nine-dash” line graduates to page six. Things are now getting more serious, the Philippines having lodged its case with the international tribunal. Read the headline now and this People’s Daily article is a true eat-your-own-words moment: “Overseas Experts and Scholars Believe Philippine Referral to the International Tribunal is a Monodrama Doomed to Fail.”
The article quotes Singapore-based expert Ian Storey as saying that the tribunal process should take more than a year because “as the case concerns the validity of China’s ‘nine-dash line’ assertion, no decision can be executed forcibly.” It then quotes National University of Singapore’s Robert Beckman as saying that “the arbitration must consider China’s assertion of ‘historical rights’ to resources within the ‘nine-dash line.’”
The October 2, 2014, edition of the People’s Daily includes a large article at top right commemorates the PRC’s 65th anniversary by listing out things Chinese must “never forget,” including the imperative of defending its sovereignty within the nine-dash line.
pd october 2014

[ABOVE: The October 2, 2014, edition of the People’s Daily includes a large article at top right commemorates the PRC’s 65th anniversary by listing out things Chinese must “never forget,” including the imperative of defending its sovereignty within the nine-dash line.]
By June 3, 2014, the “nine-dash line” has made page three of the People’s Daily. The article deals with a press conference at the annual Shangri-La Dialogue in Singapore, attended by PLA General Wang Guanzhong (王冠中) and U.S. Defence Secretary Chuck Hagel. “After his speech,” the People’s Daily reports, “Wang Guanzhong responded to questions from attendees at the meeting about China’s nine-dash line claims in the South China Sea, explaining in detail the history and evidence.”
It’s at this point that the ‘nine-dash line’ in the People’s Daily becomes the nine-dash line in the People’s Daily. See the crucial difference?
Skipping ahead to this year, we have two pieces coming as anticipation of the tribunal’s decision grows. The first, dating to June 20, appears back on page 21 — where it most surely belongs. We could not locate the proper name of the “American author” and documentary film producer it quotes in favour of China’s claims. Who is 肯·麦尔科德? Ken McCord? This is actually a favoured approach in these People’s Daily articles — referring this issue to (often dubious) foreign “experts,” as though all reasonable opinion in the rest of the world favours China’s argument.
The final article appears one week ago, on July 5, 2016, on page three of the People’s Daily. The piece is a cantankerous anticipation of today’s decision: “China Will Not Accept An Illegal Ruling On Its Sovereignty and Interests in the South China Sea.”
What form will this failure to accept the “illegal ruling” take? That, folks, is tomorrow’s news.

A Tale of Two Writers

THE DEATH over the weekend of Zhu Tiezhi (朱铁志), 56, deputy chief editor at China’s official Seeking Truth (求是) journal, has prompted soul-searching in Chinese chat groups — touching on issues at once personal, cultural, psychological and political. Discussion of Zhu’s death, which has led some to speculate a connection to the corruption case against former Hu Jintao advisor Ling Jihua (令计划), has quickly been scrubbed from most Chinese websites.
Regarded as an accomplished essay writer, Zhu first joined the Party’s Red Flag journal after graduating from Peking University in 1982 with a degree in philosophy. He joined Seeking Truth after rising to a senior position at Red Flag. Despite his involvement with these strongly ideological Party journals, however, Zhu contributed from time to time to other publications, including Guangzhou’s more freewheeling Southern Weekly newspaper. He was also a recipient of the Lu Xun Literary Prize, considered one of China’s most prestigious awards for writers.

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On Sunday, June 26, the official China News Service ran a brief report on Zhu Tiezhi’s “untimely death” in the early morning hours, noting that “essay societies and writers across the country have expressed shock and grief.” In a blog post on the Caixin website, essay writer An Lizhi (安立志) praised Zhu for his contributions to the study and writing of essays, or zawen (杂文):
Those who research the essay have praised him as the soul of essay research; those involved in essay groups have praised him as a pillar of the essay profession; those who write essays have praised him as a friend and mentor. As the northern star of China’s essay profession, Mr. Zhu Tiezhi offered direction . . . and his starlight provided warmth and substance to the night sky.
Li Xingwen

[ABOVE: Zhu Tiezhi’s wife, Li Xinwen, appears during a press briefing at the State Council Information Office.]
Taiwan’s China Times reported that Zhu had “left behind a very ill wife and a lone daughter.” According to Hong Kong’s Apple Daily, Zhu Tiezhi’s wife is Li Xingwen (黎兴文), formerly chief of the publicity department at the Central Government Liaison Office in Hong Kong. Li, said the paper, “had a great deal of interaction with Hong Kong media, and was familiar with quite a few media people.” Li was also posted with the State Council Information Office in 2013.
Early unconfirmed reports that Zhu had committed suicide led to speculation in overseas Chinese media that his death might be related to the corruption case against Ling Jihua (令计划), the former political adviser to Hu Jintao who was formally charged earlier this year with accepting bribes. This speculation was driven by the publication in the December 15, 2014, edition of Seeking Truth of an essay (since removed) attributed to Ling Jihua in which he made 16 fawning references to President Xi Jinping’s speeches in an apparent attempt to curry favour. Rumours at the time suggested that Zhu Tiezhi had been responsible for green-lighting the piece, which came exactly one week before the formal announcement of Ling’s investigation.
caixin zhang tiezhi

[ABOVE: Link on Google to a report on Zhu Tiezhi at Caixin Media that now yields a 404 error.]
A report since scrubbed from the website of Caixin Media reported yesterday that Zhu’s body had been found in the underground parking lot at Seeking Truth, and that there were signs that he had hung himself. That version of the story seems to be confirmed by an English-language report, citing the official China.org.cn, posted to the China Daily website early this morning. This report says that Zhu “was found hanged in a garage at his workplace on Sunday.”
But writers who knew Zhu Tiezhi were quick to discount the role of high-level politics in his death, saying he was known to suffer from chronic depression. Describing Zhu as a “faithful friend,” one former columnist for Southern Weekly said the reason for his suicide was almost certainly personal despair.
Zhu Tiezhi’s death recalls the suicide four years ago of Earth editor Xu Huaiqian (徐怀谦). At the time of Xu’s death, Zhu was among the first to share the news.
During his professional career, Zhu Tiezhi wrote often about the subject of death and euthanasia, as in his piece “If I Should Die” (如果我死), which has been re-shared on social media over the past 24 hours. Some of Zhu’s comments on the ethical and legal questions surrounding euthanasia are available here on the English website of the Supreme People’s Court.
Much of the discussion surrounding Zhu’s death has dealt with the complex emotional challenges of writing in China, where the necessity of political loyalty can erode a writer’s sense of conscience and self-worth. In a post deleted from Weibo, Chinese lawyer Zhou Ze (周泽) wrote: “Being an essay writer is ultimately about social conscience. To be able to serve as deputy chief editor of Seeking Truth — the internal lacerations would ultimately lead someone this way.”
In a report today, Singapore’s Lianhe Zaobao called Zhu’s death a suicide, and attributed it to “either depression or a gap between concepts and reality.”
. . . .
THE FULL circumstances of Zhu Tiezhi’s death will surely remain hidden from us. But we can to some extent — by looking at Zhu’s writings and the marked dissonance in tone and topic — explore the question of the “gap” to which Lianhe Zaobao refers.
Those of us who have followed the rousing language of news and propaganda policy in the Xi Jinping era propaganda will surely recognise the official tone of this piece, written by Zhu Tiezhi back in February this year:

[Xi Jinping’s] speech was directly at the three mainstream [Party] media, but even more at the front lines of national propaganda thought, and it is a programmatic document that directs news, public opinion, ideology and propaganda work for the Party and the government for the era.
As a publication of the central Party, and as an important battle position of propaganda and ideology, we at Seeking Truth bear the great responsibility of propagating the spirit of the series of important speeches by General Secretary Xi Jinping, and of propagating and explaining the Party’s theoretical line.

And in a piece for Seeking Truth last year, Zhu Tiezhi wrote about how the profusion of information in the new media age was transforming ways of life and making news and public opinion more important than ever before. “Under these circumstances,” he wrote, “how to deal with the media, and how to channel public opinion, has become an important question facing leading cadres at all levels.”
Zhu’s out-of-the-package official position in this piece is that Party and government leaders must work actively with the media, which after all are there to work alongside them:

Fundamentally speaking, our media are all mouthpieces of the Party and the government, all mouthpieces of the masses. They propagate the Party’s position, and at the same time reflect the calls of the masses — this is not only not a contradiction, but in fact is entirely unified. The people of the Chinese Communist Party must not have their own special interests beyond the interests of the people.

It is immaterial whether or not these sentiments were truly shared by Zhu Tiezhi. The fact is, we might find a thousand identical screeds from a thousand Party hacks, all of them effectively bylined “Party.”
But here is Zhu Tiezhi writing in Southern Weekly back in 2004, in the long wake of the SARS crisis. Even as the essay deals with public issues, its tone is personal:

On the first day of the new year, as I turned through the ink-fragrant pages of Southern Weekly, the first thing I saw, which was also the thing I most wanted to read, was the exclusive interview with Doctor Zhong Nanshan (钟南山). What moved me most were not Doctor Zhong’s views on SARS per se, things with which we are all long since familiar — rather, it was his thoughts on the attitude that should be taken in dealing with epidemics. Doctor Zhong believes: In cases where dangerous diseases suddenly break out, there must be no exaggeration, certainly no concealment, and the more you can talk honestly and clearly about the ins and outs with the public and with the World Health Organisation, and about how to achieve prevention, the more the public will be at ease. It is not as certain people would have us believe: that the more transparency there is, the more chaotic society will be.

Zhu’s concluding remarks are hopeful, with just a note of admonishment:

The new year has begun. In their attitude toward dealing with various sudden-breaking incidents, our Party and our government are facing the world, the public and public opinion with a much more liberal, open and responsible attitude. Well then, shouldn’t our government officials at various level also fully advance with the times on these questions?

And here, finally, is an excerpt from Zhu Tiezhi’s essay “If I Should Die,” included in his 2012 collection, Diving Into the Human Sea (沉入人海).

If I must die of cancer, I implore the leaders of my work unit and my colleagues not to press on with hopeless treatments. Because I know there are certain cancers that, although called cancer, are called such because modern medicine is at present helpless to deal with them. So-called humanitarian treatments are essentially about perpetuating our physical lives — and that is tantamount to the perpetuation of suffering. I know that my name means “iron will,” but in fact my will is weak, and I don’t believe I could withstand the suffering cancer would bring. I don’t wish my life to be a struggle, and in the end to lose all of my dignity, bed-ridden with a tenacious illness, my body pricked with tubes. Nor do I wish my family members to suffer as I am caught between the impossibility of life and death.

Bullets and smartphones

WHAT IS IT about the number 19? Back in 2013, Xi Jinping delivered his first major speech on ideology, in which he spoke in hardline terms about a “public opinion struggle,” on August 19. This year, on February 19, Xi Jinping visited state media before delivering an “important speech” on “news and public opinion work,” in which he said that media “must be surnamed Party” and do the Party’s bidding. On April 19, Xi Jinping let loose on the now central issue of cybersecurity, outlining strengthened internet controls and saying that a “clear and bright online space, ecologically sound, is in the interests of the people.”
Is Xi Jinping obsessed with the number “19”? All three of his “important speeches” on media and information policy have been held on the 19th of the month. The character for “9” is a homonym in Chinese of the word for “long-lasting,” seen above.
The character for “9” in Chinese is a homonym of “long-lasting” (久), and as a result tie-ups, such as contracts (or marriages), are often formalised on the 9th, 19th or 29th of the month — an auspicious sign of sustained harmony.

jiu
[ABOVE: Is Xi Jinping obsessed with the number “19”? All three of his “important speeches” on media and information policy have been held on the 19th of the month. The character for “9” is a homonym in Chinese of the word for “long-lasting,” seen above.]
Is it that Xi Jinping pines for an eternal spring of ideological dominance? Does he envision an enduring Eden of the mobile internet, a garden “ruled by law,” where forms and content effloresce but no-one dares touch the forbidden fruit of knowledge?
For now, readers may file these questions away in “Arcana of the Xi Jinping Era.”
But we have another 19 of sorts. Yesterday, June 19, a lengthy article by Tian Jin (田进), deputy director of China’s State Administration of Press and Publication, Radio, Film, and Television (SAPPRFT), appeared on page five of the People’s Daily as part of a series on the “study and implementation” of Xi Jinping’s February 19 speech on the media.
Tian’s article is of course not a Xi Jinping speech. But it is remarkable for the harder edge it gives to Xi’s already hard language on the media — and it is a very concerning indication of the depth of official resolve in tightening, expanding and re-envisioning information controls.
But first off, who is Tian Jin?
Tian, a native of Shanxi who was educated at Hunan University, has spent the past 15 years within the media control bureaucracy, first joining the State Administration of Radio Film and Television (SARFT) in 2001. Before that, he spent almost two years in Hong Kong as a senior administrative affairs official at Xinhua News Agency.
The 2015 television period drama “The Empress of China.” Just too much cleavage for SAPPRFT official Tian Jin?
It was Tian who fielded questions from reporters in January 2015 following news that the authorities had pulled the popular television series “Empress of China” to make additional cuts. Later that year, addressing a television market event in Shenzhen, Tian praised the industry for “the resounding main theme [of the Party] in their productions, and more robustly positive energy.”
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[ABOVE: The 2015 television period drama “The Empress of China.” Just too much cleavage for SAPPRFT official Tian Jin?]
Tian Jin began his People’s Daily article — “Grasping the Important Position of News and Public Opinion Work” — by describing the significance, in the grandest terms, of Xi Jinping’s February 19 address on media policy. The speech, said Tian, provided “the fundamental standard in doing news and public opinion work at this new historical starting point, and offered powerful ideological weaponry in meeting the challenges on the new front lines of news and public opinion, under the new situation, and in breaking through difficulties.”
In CCP jargon, this is more or less secret code for: Unless we get a handle on the mobile-based internet and any other disruptive information technologies that might be coming down the pipeline, the Party will lose its grip on political power. And President Xi has handed us the general blueprint for total information dominance.
All of this is blandly familiar. But what really makes Tian Jin’s piece special is the way he remorselessly employs retrograde language to explain the Party’s priorities and their historical context:

News and public opinion work is an important task for the Party. Comrade Mao Zedong said that revolution relies on the barrel of the gun and the shaft of the pen, and that the Chinese Communist Party must hold pamphlets in its left hand and bullets in its right before it can defeat the enemy. Prioritising news and public opinion work is a fine tradition of our Party, and an important magic weapon that has brought constant victories in revolution, [national] construction and reform. Under the conditions of a new era, the cause of the Party faces an even more arduous and onerous task.

Such talk of guns and pens, of enemies and magic weapons, is the kind of hardline nostalgia we would expect to see on leftist forums in China. We generally would not expect to see such talk in the People’s Daily. In fact, the phrase “barrel of the gun and shaft of the pen” (枪杆子和笔杆子) has appeared just 17 times in the entire history of the newspaper, going all the way back to July 2, 1946. It has appeared in three articles in the Xi Jinping era, after a dormancy of almost 30 years:
1. Tian Jin’s piece on news and public opinion work — June 19, 2016
2. A profile of Ai Siqi, encouraging officials to be theory-minded and study up on their Marxism — August 13, 2015
3. A look back on Mao Zedong’s writings — February 28, 2013
Before these more recent instances, we have to go back almost 30 years to November 15, 1983, to find the last use of the phrase. In the five and a half years from May 18, 1978, to November 15, 1983, there were four pieces in the People’s Daily mentioning the phrase “barrel of the gun and shaft of the pen” — three of them in the context of roundly criticising the Gang of Four and the internal political strife of the pre-reform period.
1. “These counter-revolutionary activities strongly demonstrate intense collusion between counter-revolutionary gun barrels and pen shafts, banding together as traitors.” — May 18, 1978
2. [Mention on a list of books under investigation in Taiwan of a book called, Gun Barrels and Pen Shafts of the KMT.] — November 26, 1982
3. “Lin Biao understood that to engage in counter-revolutionary activities, he had to rely on the ‘two staves,’ namely the barrel of the gun and the shaft of the pen.” — January 31, 1983
4. “First of all, the reactionary rulers grabbed control of the seals [government power], the handcuffs [police power], the guns [military] and the pens [intellectuals], seeking to snuff out and suppress every spark of the revolution.” — November 15, 1983
When we go back beyond these four mentions in the early reform period, we have ten articles remaining, all of them published during the Cultural Revolution.
The 17 articles in the entire history of the CCP’s official People’s Daily mentioning the phrase “gun barrels and pen shafts.” The vast majority occur during the Cultural Revolution, or are used negatively in the early reform period.

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[ABOVE: The 17 articles in the entire history of the CCP’s official People’s Daily mentioning the phrase “gun barrels and pen shafts.” The vast majority occur during the Cultural Revolution, or are used negatively in the early reform period.]
Tian Jin’s extremist language continues in the next section of his article, as he piles on “ideological struggle” — an alternative to “public opinion struggle,” which Xi introduced in August 2013 — and “hostile forces,” that catchall phrase pointing to nefarious internal/external enemies of the Party.

Grasping the overall situation in the ideological struggle (把握意识形态领域斗争全局). Along with the acceleration of social transformation in our country, various tensions have grown more obvious, and ideas in society are diverse, varied and changeable — so that we see more frequent interchange, interaction and confrontation between various trends of thought. Internationally, the contest remains intense among different value systems and institutional models (制度模式), and hostile forces overseas have not relented in the plots of Westernisation and division directed against us, with no fundamental change to the status quo of a strong West and a weak China in terms of international public opinion. News and public opinion are on the frontiers of the ideological struggle, and various hostile forces are vying with us for public opinion positions, vying for people’s hearts (争夺人心), vying for the masses (争夺群众). Newspapers and periodicals, and radio and television networks, are the mainstream media trusted by the Party and the people, and they must maintain an active posture (必须主动作为), having the courage to “drive the demons out of our land” (玉宇澄清万里埃), playing the positive and upright main theme (主旋律) [of the Party], eliminating the negative impact of static and noise (杂音噪音), effectively channeling public opinion in society, and firmly grasping the initiative and leading position in the struggle in the ideological sphere.

Tian Jin (田进), deputy director of China’s State Administration of Press and Publication, Radio, Film, and Television (SAPPRFT), unpacks Xi Jinping’s February 19, 2016, speech on page 5 of the People’s Daily on June 19, 2016.
Later on in his article, Tian speaks of the need for greater nuance in propaganda, putting out products “in forms the people of various countries will enjoy” in order to “have a positive influence overseas.” But at this point, we have spittle on our collars.
The Party’s goal is to dominate the message, both at home and abroad — and there is no need to beat around the bush. This is a life-and-death struggle for ideological dominance.
The reference to “static and noise” recalls an ideological controversy almost 12 years ago in China, when the Liberation Daily roundly attacked the idea of “public intellectuals.” That was in November 2004, after some of China’s more freewheeling commercial papers took up this sensitive issue in the wake of the August 2004 edition of the UK’s Prospect Magazine. After a snide rejection of the notion of “independent” voices — “Intellectuals are part of the worker’s class, part of the masses, and a group under the leadership of the Party.” — the Liberation Daily fumed:
Concepts like this “public intellectuals” are just static and noise, and cannot influence the main tone of our society’s public opinion. But nor can we take a casual attitude. As we face a diversified situation, it is most crucial to remain clear and firm — for only then can the leading position of Marxism be upheld, and only then can we not lose our bearing amid an abundance of ideas.
The Liberation Daily article was a worrying volley from the fringes, and it drew a great deal of scorn from many in China’s press. Tian Jin’s article is more significant. In this case, we have even denser hardline language employed by a senior media official writing in the People’s Daily — in a series, moreover, formally identified as an unpacking of Xi Jinping’s speech in the interest of putting it into practice.
Let’s go through some of the language further on in Tian’s article.
Under a section headed “adhering to the correct political orientation” (坚定正确政治方向), Tian stresses the principle of the “Party nature” of the media, which is of a piece with Xi Jinping’s insistence that the media be “surnamed Party,” and “love the Party, protect the Party and serve the Party.”
Adherence to the “Party nature” is at the core also of “strict propaganda discipline” (严格宣传纪律), a familiar media control concept in China essentially encompassing the idea that journalists must behave as the Party wants them to behave. But here, again, Tian’s hackles go up and we glimpse the fresh extremism that marks the Party’s approach to information under Xi Jinping.

We must throughout put propaganda discipline up in front, effectively enhancing firm and willing compliance with propaganda discipline . . . not offering any channel for the transmission of erroneous ideas and static and noise.

How will the Party accomplish this? Despite its grandiosity, Tian Jin’s piece differs from much propaganda claptrap in its relative specificity. We can hear in his language not just fury and determination, but an organised and directed will:

We must adhere to territorial responsibility, responsibility for [one’s] territory, ultimate responsibility for [one’s] territory (守土尽责), carrying out the strengthening of discipline throughout, strengthening channeling and management, strengthening comprehensive and strict checks — quickly discovering, firmly restraining and strictly handling certain programs that hype hot social topics, ridicule national policies (调侃国家政策), spread erroneous views (散布错误观点), advocate extreme ideas (鼓吹极端理念) and deliberately intensify contradictions, and conducting awareness education on classic problems through the entire system.

Tian is talking about amplifying the sense of urgency at every level of the media and propaganda ecosystem, and holding leaders and staff responsible for breaches the occur on their watch.
In other sections, Tian talks about “adhering to correct guidance of public opinion” (坚持正确舆论导向), and about “encouraging unity and stability, [and] emphasising positive news” (团结稳定鼓劲、正面宣传为主).
All of this is familiar. But once again, Tian is emphatic and absolutist in a way that seems remarkable. One of his sections is headed: “Correct guidance that is all-encompassing, without exceptions (正确导向全覆盖、无例外). After which, he writes:

We must connect the adherence to correct guidance to every aspect of our work, implementing it in every element, in every position, in every procedure, through every responsible person, absolutely without leaving any hidden dangers or dead ends (绝不留隐患和死角).

Moreover, we have every indication from Tian that the Party is following through on this absolutist approach to control, and that, in fact, it is just getting started:
In recent years, we have already implemented a series of policy measures in terms of the maintenance of guidance at news interview programs, entertainment programs, talent shows, legal programs, reality shows, etcetera.
Further on, in his section on “innovating management concepts, and unifying measures and standards” (创新管理理念,统一尺度标准):

Lately one focus has been promoting unification of measures and unification of standards for guidance and content management between traditional media and new media. For this, we have built a monitoring system (监看监管制度) for audiovisual programming, promoted the building of a network production and broadcast management system for online dramas (网络剧) and micro-films (微电影), introduced measures to strengthen management of overseas television dramas online, all of which have had a positive impact in regulating order in online audiovisual broadcasting, and in promoting the healthy development of the online broadcasting industry (网络视听业). The next step is the research, development and introduction of management measures for documentaries, animation and variety programmes, truly achieving [a situation in which] wherever new media technologies and businesses develop, management can develop in step, truly achieving not just control but also solid management (管得住而且管得好).

For anyone interested in hardline CCP discourse, Tian Jin’s piece offers an embarrassment of riches. It does not bode well for Chinese media or content of any kind for the foreseeable future, suggesting the Party will continue to tighten restrictions — and to make concerted changes to institutions, regulations and other mechanisms that can further this core objective.
The focus, so clear in Tian’s language, is on the challenges posed by the internet and mobile-based media. Which is why, beyond control and regulation, he stresses the need to “accelerate the building of new mainstream media (新型主流媒体), in the process raising the influence and transmission power of [the Party’s] news and public opinion work.” He talks about “actively developing and utilising differentiated, segmented and directed content across websites, Weibo, WeChat, apps and other communication channels.”
Behind Tian Jin’s language, we can hear the clarion call of Xi Jinping’s ambition — the building of a new and all-encompassing information management system, one that will allow the Party to control public opinion through the unforeseeable future of 21st century media.
The barrel of the gun belongs to the CCP, and so must the shaft of the pen, whatever the promise of new media holds. Or, rather, the Chinese Communist Party understands that to defeat the enemy of uncertainty, it must hold the bullets in its right hand and the smartphones in its left.
 

Supervising Supervision

During a forum following high-profile visits to core state media back in February this year, President Xi Jinping stressed the Chinese Communist Party’s dominance of the media. In terms more explicit than at any time in the past three decades, he said all media “must be surnamed Party,” and must “love the Party, protect the Party and serve the Party.”
One of the most illuminating lines in Xi Jinping’s speech on “news and public opinion work” dealt with the notion of “supervision by public opinion,” or yulun jiandu (舆论监督)—a term that for many years has been synonymous with the most enterprising journalism that can be found in China’s complex media landscape.
Essentially the idea that the media represent the public (or the “masses”) in monitoring the government with critical reporting, “supervision by public opinion” has generally been poles apart from the notion of “positive news,” the sort of brown-nosing coverage we expect to find in China’s bland Party newspapers. In his speech, however, Xi Jinping subverted the distinction entirely: “Supervision by public opinion and positive propaganda are unified,” he said.
Thirteen unlucky characters: 舆论监督和正面宣传是统一的. But with these Xi Jinping nullified the idea that the media might play a monitoring role with any semblance of initiative or independence. Just as all media, from traditional newspapers to WeChat, are subordinated to the Party’s will according to Xi Jinping’s all-dimensional vision of media control, so is the practice of “supervision by public opinion.”

supervision
[ABOVE: In this online cartoon, posted to CNHubei.com, a red government seal checks himself in the mirror to see if he is clean and uncorrupt. In the surface he sees the character for “honest and clean,” reflected from scroll hung on the wall behind him.]
According to the prevailing official view of media supervision in the Xi era, critical reporting has gotten out of hand over the past two decades as a result of social and technological transformations. What the CCP needs now is to re-appropriate supervision — to subject it, in other words, to rigorous Party supervision.
In the Party’s official Red Flag journal last month, communications scholar Xiao Zhitao (肖志涛) writes:

In our country, the media run by the Party and the government have always been the main force in supervision by public opinion. However, in recent years, with the steady emergence and development of new media, and as competition between domestic and international media grows ever more dramatic, certain media have engaged in the one-sided exercise of supervision by public opinion power — and a good number of journalists have fallen into the trap of the West’s so-called “freedom of the press,” the “fourth estate,” the [idea of the journalist as the] “uncrowned king.” This has been extremely damaging to the Party’s news and public opinion work.

Unpacking Xi Jinping’s statement about the unity of supervision and positive propaganda, Xiao Zhitao says media must “have a correct grasp of the timing, intensity and effect of supervision by public opinion.”
Most crucially, though Xiao stresses the importance of “accuracy,” his explication makes it clear that factuality in reporting is subordinate to the larger fact of the Party and its priorities. The Party’s dominant position as the final arbiter of truth leads Xiao along corkscrews of absurd logic: “The facts must be described according to the facts,” he writes. “In other words, with accurate reporting of separate facts, along with a grasp of the whole picture of things in terms of the macro.”
What does this mean, a “grasp of the whole picture of things in terms of the macro”? It means that the Party’s status is the fact to end all facts. Why, otherwise, is there any need to use facts to describe other facts?
But there are points when Xiao borders on directness. Like this one:

At the current stage, what to supervise [through reporting], and how to supervise, must be tested by the Party nature and the people nature of the Party media, and a view to the overall [political] situation.

The notion of “Party nature,” or dangxing (党性), returns us to the basic and inescapable fact of the Party’s dominance of media and public opinion, to the assertion that “being surnamed Party is the fundamental principle of news media work.
Hasn’t the Party always dominated the media? And hasn’t it always been terribly hostile to criticism? No, not at all.
While Xiao Zhitao imagines encirclement by Western ideas of the media supervision role — “so-called ‘freedom of the press’ — his argument elides the fact that supervision (as at least a semi-independent exercise of criticism) is no more Western than the entire Marxist framework on which the CCP has based its rule. In fact, criticism and “supervision by public opinion” have a long history in China, reaching back to the first decades of the 20th century, and to the beginnings of the Chinese Communist Party.
Well before the founding of the People’s Republic of China, the leaders of the Chinese Communist Party were preoccupied with the question of criticism and regime legitimacy. In July 1945, as the Second Sino-Japanese War was coming to a close, Chinese educator and politician Huang Yanpei traveled to the mountainous CCP stronghold of Yan’an to meet with Mao Zedong.

huang mao

[ABOVE: Huang Yanpei meets with Mao Zedong in July 1945.]
Sitting down with Mao and several others in one of area’s cave dwellings, Huang remarked the rise and fall of regimes throughout his own lifetime, and expressed concern over the recurring problem in China of the “draining” of administrative capacity over time. All regimes became corrupted, he suggested: “When emperors die, they take their dynasties with them.” How, he wanted to know, did Mao Zedong propose to break this “vicious cycle of history”? Mao’s answer, eventually recorded in Huang’s book, Return From Yan’an, was unrelenting oversight. “We have found a new path,” said Mao. “It is called democracy. As long as the public maintains their oversight of the government, the government will not slacken in its efforts.”
On August 30, 1950, when the People’s Republic of China was still less than a year old, an article on page five of the People’s Daily (“Criticism and Self-Criticism in the Newspaper”), said that newspapers must be used to carry out a “firm struggle” against government officials who tried to suppress criticism of their actions and policies. In such instances, said the paper, “[we] must when necessary organise the collective strength of the readers to carry out mass supervision by public opinion, thereby reaching the goal of criticism.”
This article came just four months after the Party’s Politburo passed its “Chinese Communist Party Decision On Newspapers and Periodicals Carrying Out Criticism and Self-Criticism,” which underscored the role of the media in carrying out criticism of the Party and government in order to combat such trends as “bureaucratism.” One of two editorials accompanying the full text of the “Decision” in the April 22, 1950, edition of the People’s Daily read:

This decision demands that newspapers and periodicals include the broader masses in the regular and systematic supervision of our work, turning attention to shortcomings and errors in our work in order that they are corrected, and that we are able to make steady progress forward. This is a serious step in greatly promoting the democratization of our country, and in improving the work of Party committees and governments at various levels.

From the outset, the “Decision” made clear that acts of criticism and self-criticism were to be made “publicly in newspapers and other publications.” Moreover, they were to be made “freely,” without government interference or the necessity of prior approval. “Responsibility for criticisms appearing in newspapers and other publications,” said the text of the decision, “is to be taken on independently by journalists and editors.”
The idea that the media should take the initiative in doing critical reporting was unfortunately short-lived. In July 1954, a new document, “CCP Central Committee Decision On the Improvement of Newspaper Work,” decisively overturned the post-facto discipline system at the heart of the 1950 decision on criticism and self-criticism. It sent a clear warning to journalists that exercising their own discretion in doing critical reporting could prove a fatal error of judgment. The CCP decision blandly maintained the principle that newspapers are “the most keen weapons the party uses to conduct criticism and self-criticism,” but it stressed the point that newspapers suffered from a “weak sense of party nature.”
By now, this should sound eerily familiar. Following on Xi Jinping’s words in his February 19, 2016, speech, Xiao Zhitao argued that critical reporting, or “supervision,” “must be tested by the Party nature.” Media must be surnamed Party.
The spirit of media criticism re-emerged in China in the reform era, a direct response to the evils of the post-1954 historical hole that had brought such nightmares as the Anti-Rightist Movement and the Cultural Revolution.
Significantly, soon after the 1978 Third Plenary Session of the 11th CCP Central Committee that instituted the path of economic reforms, News Frontline, a communications journal run by the People’s Daily, republished in full the text of the April 1950 decision on criticism and self-criticism. The return of criticism marked a new era of reform, not just for the country but for its media.
An introductory note for the 1950 decision as it was printed in News Frontline in June 1979 read: “For a brief time in the past, this decision from the Party, promoted the exercise of criticism and self-criticism in newspapers and periodicals across the country. Today, turning up the heat on this decision, propagating and implementing its spirit, can still have an extremely important function for the news work of our entire party.” The new wave of debate and criticism encouraged by the “spirit” of the 1950 decision was also to be inclusive in nature: “We hope that various news units, and particularly the editorial departments, editors, journalists and correspondents of our newspapers, as well as the readers, can all participate in this discussion, sharing their opinions, demands and suggestions.”

republished

This was never meant to be a relinquishing of media control. But it did reinstitute a tradition of media supervision of power. And in 1987, media supervision was given an even more prominent profile as then-Premier Zhao Ziyang included the term “supervision by public opinion” in this political report.
Even after Jiang Zemin reasserted media controls in the wake of the Tiananmen Massacre in June 1989, the tradition of criticism persisted, finding new and fertile ground in the industry upheaval of the 1990s.
During an official visit in October 1998 to China Central Television’s popular Focus news magazine program, Premier Zhu Rongji said the program’s role was to “[conduct] supervision by public opinion, be the mouthpiece of the masses, a mirror for the government, and the vanguard of reforms.” For Zhu, the press — and in particular, the contentious press — was the most faithful mirror of the party’s deficiencies. While critical coverage advanced the reform agenda, positive propaganda held China back:

What does it mean to emphasise positive news? Does it mean 99 percent positive news? How about 98 percent, or 80 percent? Wouldn’t 51 percent still be acceptable? Most programs are all about propaganda results, and just one or two point out problems occurring in the course of our forward progress, mobilising the full force of the party in dealing with these problems. This is a far more effective way of doing things than purely looking at propaganda results. Without programs like yours, the voices of the masses could not be expressed. And how then could we talk about democracy? How could we talk about supervision? Everyone must get used to this sort of criticism.

The Chinese Communist Party under Xi Jinping cannot “get used to this sort of criticism.” When Xi Jinping launched his “mass line” effort to grapple with corruption in June 2013 — telling officials to “gaze into the mirror, straighten their outfits, bathe, and treat their illnesses”  ——  his “mirror” was not the media, and certainly not contentious media. His mirror was the CCP Constitution.
Supervision under Xi Jinping is to be an internal matter, a backstage ritual. Criticism must be managed, supervision supervised. We might say that the PRC’s second era of critical reporting is at its end, at least as a matter of policy.
The gap is closed. Positive propaganda and supervision are unified.
Welcome to 1954.