In December 2011, a large-scale revolt in Wukan to protest a land grab by local officials catapulted this small, seaside village into world headlines. A rare negotiated settlement with provincial officials allowed Wukan villagers to hold democratic elections for a new village leadership on March 3, 2012 — what many called a new model for democracy in China.
This month I went to the village to see for myself how the “Wukan model” had progressed in the year since village elections. What I found was frustration, disappointment and exhaustion.

[ABOVE: A Wukan villager, still waiting for resolution of the land issues that sparked protest in late 2011. Photo by Anna-Karin Lampou.]
Villagers everywhere on Wukan’s streets echo the same refrain: “Still, our land has not been returned,” they say.
Land issues top the village committee’s agenda today as they did during elections last year. But committee members say their hands are tied by political forces beyond the village. While they represent the villagers who elected them, they must rely on Party superiors up the line to accomplish many of the things they originally set out to do.
Inside the village, division rankles. In October 2012, Zhuang Liehong, one of the elected committee members who had pledged most vocally to win back the village’s land, resigned his post, citing irreconcilable differences with Secretary Lin Zuluan and other committee members.
“It wasn’t personal,” Zhuang tells me over cups of oolong in the village teahouse he opened after his resignation. “We think differently. Right now it’s just impossible [for us to work together].”
In stark contrast to the unity Wukan showed the world in the midst of the protests, villagers now find it impossible to reach agreement even on how to use existing land. And evidence of the stalemate is everywhere.

[ABOVE: “Fully (Asia) Development,” a local knitwear factory, now sits idle outside Wukan. Photo by Anna-Karin Lampou.]
Surrounding the village, large stretches of land sit unused. Deserted factories, with smashed-out windows and rusty door frames, dot the village landscape. Posted outside an abandoned knitwear factory — “Fully (Asia) Development,” reads the sign at the gate — one security guard tells me he’s been keeping watch here ever since the factory’s boss absconded, after the village committee had demanded outstanding rent.
“He had a Hong Kong ID card,” the guard explains. “So they were never able to find him.”
Land disputes like Wukan’s have played out again and again in villages across China. According to a recent study, four million people each year in China have their rural land seized by the government. These land seizures drive an undercurrent of unrest. Sun Liping, a scholar from Tsinghua University, estimates that there were at least 180,000 land-related protests in China in 2012 alone.
For many, Wukan offered a solution — a model of democratic reform that could stem the tide of mass rural protests. Inside Wukan, that hope is at best a distant thought, crowded out by the immediacy of concerns over land.
When I spoke to one woman at a noodle shop about how things were going in Wukan, she talked at great length about how the village’s land still hadn’t been returned. When I asked her for her thoughts on democracy, she shrugged off the question: “I don’t really know about that,” she said.
I know the headlines have been down on Wukan in recent months. “Freedom fizzles out in China’s rebel town of Wukan,” read a recent Reuters report. “Is Wukan a failure?” a recent online post asked.
I’m not ready to say that democracy has failed in Wukan. There is positive progress, albeit small, towards a more open, transparent style of government. Locals told me they were happy they could now approach their local leaders, that they could voice their concerns and be taken seriously.

[ABOVE: A notice on the wall of a local school informs villagers about a renovation project, providing details such as the name of the contracted company. Photo by Anna-Karin Lampou.]
On the wall of a local kindergarten in Wukan, I came across a notice announcing a renovation project. It listed the name of the committee representative responsible for the project, including his phone number. It mentioned the company contracted to handle the renovation and the budget involved. That may seem like a small achievement. But this level of transparency is unusual in China, whether at the local level or the national level.
Behind the scenes, though, Wukan’s fragile experiment is exhausted. Yang Semao, the village committee member listed on the poster as being responsible for the renovation project, told me he is taking leave from the committee to deal with his failing health. The responsibilities and frustrations of the past year have left him physically and emotionally drained. He described himself as “near collapse.”

[ABOVE: Elected village committee member Yang Semao says he is exhausted by work and will be taking a period of leave from his responsibilities. Photo by Anna-Karin Lampou.]
A hand-written letter Yang shared with me, detailing the recent situation in Wukan and his reasons for taking leave, is a portrait of a village at an impasse. The frustration and fatigue are salient. But there is a thread of hope too. The village is trying to nurture its fledgling democracy, Yang says, educating its members about how to “express their demands rationally,” and preparing for elections down the road.
As for the insoluble issue of land — that may take several administrations to solve.
“The task is heavy,” Yang writes, “and the road is long.”

My Thoughts One Year On From My Election as Deputy Chairman of the Village Committee
Greetings to you all, respected [members of the] Provincial Work Group, Party and government leaders at various levels, departmental staff, friends in the overseas media, netizens who have watched [events in] Wukan, volunteers, and villagers of Wukan.
I thank you for your trust and support, which made possible my election as deputy chairman of the Wukan village committee, and which gave me the opportunity to serve the villagers of Wukan. However, as the weight of history and the expectations of villagers have been so considerable, and as my own experience has been inadequate, a great number of defects have emerged in my own work over the past six months. Progress on land-related appeals [made by the villagers of Wukan] has been laborious; negotiations over the [settling of] the boundary lands (四至边界); the procedures for livelihood projects (such as running water) have lacked consistency; village rules and regulations have not been readily followed (on illegal construction, for example); the pace of management of village affairs has been excruciating, and the course of democracy [in the village] now faces a serious predicament. The village bristles daily with criticism, and is has become difficult to establish the authority of the village committee. Facing the expectations of the government, of the villagers and of people of all walks of [Chinese] society, I feel a deep sense of shame.
Without question, my work has not been done well, but this is not out of lack of effort. In the year since I was elected (plus the six months of rights defense efforts) I have made a tremendous effort to address the demands and promote the development of my hometown. I have relented a single day, nor perhaps have I rested a single day. A few days ago the Bureau of Land Resources announced that our demands concerning our [village] land were at an impasse. The decision on the 124 mu of land [in question] has been delayed over and over again, and there are still obstacles to the restoration of the land title to the village of Wukan. Whenever this issue is broached, attacks come [from the authorities]. As for myself, I am perhaps psychologically near collapse. My constitution is now weak (I’m sick). In order that I do not perish of exhaustion and ill health, I have had no choice but to submit a request to the village committee for sick leave, allowing me some time to recover. If I recuperate for two weeks, I should be able to return to work. If the results are not as ideal as I expect, it might be necessary for me to take more time, or to resign my post in order to regain my health. I hope that in this I may have the support and understanding of the government and the people.
After I go on leave, many village affairs, including the land-related demands and livelihood projects, will depend upon the “two committees” (两委) — [the village branch of the Chinese Communist Party and the autonomous villagers’ committee] — the village affairs supervisory committee and the other various village work groups. I hope that all of you together support the work of Secretary Lin [Zuluan], that you unite around Secretary Lin, that you manage village affairs well, and that you do a good job of various livelihood projects and in promoting land-related demands — that you dedicate yourselves to the stability and development of Wukan Village. I will be back to join with you [in this work] as soon as I can.
On the question of land issues in Wukan Village . . . The task is heavy and the road is long. Owing to historical problems and other complexities, this issue is one that cannot be resolved in a single term by this village committee. It is an issue that will require several terms to achieve (and that of course also requires a capable village committee).
The current village committee has now begun to shift the center of its work to directing villagers toward a more rational expression of their demands and consolidating the democratic achievements we have made. [Our focus is on] progressively and gradually developing democracy and bringing stability to the social environment in Wukan, creating a favorable election environment for the next village committee term. As for the resolution of [outstanding] land issues, and promoting productivity and investment, these [tasks] can only await breakthroughs to be made by the next village committee.
Yang Semao (杨色茂)
March 3, 2013
(Translation by David Bandurski)

Authorities in the city of Shanghai reported on March 11 that at least 3,300 dead pigs had been found floating in the Huangpu River, which is the major source of water for the city’s 23 million population. The story shocked many Chinese, who worried understandably about the implications for public health and puzzled over the question of how farmers upstream were able to discharge such a large number of dead pigs into the river without notice. The above cartoon, posted by artist Du Shi Xiong (大尸凶的漫画) to Sina Weibo, is a mock movie poster referencing director Ang Lee‘s recent blockbuster Life of Pi. The poster pictures the film (and book’s) main character, Indian storyteller Pi Patel, drifting on his life raft not with the male Bengal tiger “Richard Parker” but with scores of dead pigs. The water all around him is also littered with dead pigs.
This cartoon is one of quite a few now circulating on Sina Weibo using the “Life of Pi” movie poster meme to explore the story of Shanghai’s dead pigs. The following is another posted by Gou Ben (勾犇漫画) today. In this one, Pi Patel wears a heavy-duty safety mask to protect himself from the smog (another health issue of great concern to the Chinese public) while the tiger “Richard Parker” leaps headlong into a river teeming with dead pigs and screams: “Here’s some meat to eat. If it kills me, at least I’ll die of a bloated stomach!”

Earlier this year, Wu Jiaxiang (吴稼祥), a noted political theorist and former CMP fellow, released his master work of Chinese political theory. The book, Gong Tian Xia (公天下), was reportedly an instant hit among Party officials in Beijing.
Gong Tian Xia explores 4,000 years of Chinese political history — a massive undertaking Wu says was a twenty-year labor of love — and derives (according to one summary) a “democratic macro-theory” based on polycentric governance (多中心治理) that Wu then applies to China’s present and future politics. (For a better introduction than that, readers will have to turn to the book itself, which we’ve only had time to glance at. You can also listen to Wu Jiaxiang talk about the book here.)

Wu Jiaxiang, it should also be noted, is perhaps the most prominent intellectual heavyweight to have maintained in recent months the faith that Xi Jinping is indeed a reformer, and that bolder (but calculated) moves are in the offing once China gets through the National People’s Congress now underway in Beijing.
Wu is interviewed for the most recent edition of Hong Kong’s Yazhou Zhoukan, and he remains solidly among the faithful. The following is a portion of his interview, which comes under the headline: “I think Xi Jinping can deliver” (我认为习近平能成事).

YZZK: How do you view the political climate inside the Chinese Communist Party between the 18th National Congress and the “two meetings” [of the NPC and CPPCC]?
Wu Jiaxiang: During his first month after taking the stage [as General Secretary of the CCP], he basically was a refurbished version of Hu Yaobang (胡耀邦) and Zhao Ziyang (赵紫阳). For example, he would keep his talk onstage to Deng Xiaoping, and he would talk about the road to [national] rejuvenation. His first trip out was to Shenzhen, and he invited along four people who had accompanied Deng Xiaoping [on his “southern tour” in 1992]. He laid flowers before the image of Deng Xiaoping. In all of his speeches three important political symbols were missing — Mao Zedong, Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao. He was perhaps too anxious to show himself [on the Shenzhen tour], and this resulted in some major problems.
YZZK: What do you mean by major problems?
Wu Jiaxiang: Immediately after the 18th National Congress, [Xi Jinping] did not have everyone — [Party] cadres at the middle, upper and foundational levels — in his corner. He was still under the shadow of the previous ten-year administration. In present-day China, we have at one [political] extreme what we can call the market faction (市场派) [or liberal pro-reformers]. At the other extreme we have the Cultural Revolution faction (文革派) [or “leftists”]. In the middle we have the [state] planning faction (计划派). [NOTE: Chen Yuan, who Wu mentions in a moment as a member of this faction, is generally regarded as part of the “princeling” faction, or powerful interest group comprising the sons and daughters of former top Party leaders. Here, what we have clumsily rendered the “state planning faction” should refer to those in favor of a strong role for state-run enterprises, many of which are controlled by vested interests like the “princelings.”]
Well, why was it that the planning faction linked hands with the Cultural Revolution faction, allowing the dying embers of the Cultural Revolution faction to be fanned again to life? It’s because the planning faction did not want to appear extreme [in their agendas]. By stirring up the Cultural Revolution faction [as an opposition on the extreme left] they could appear more moderate [relative to the market faction]. It’s the Cultural Revolution that you really despise, they could say — but me you can deal with. So for some time the planning faction faced no pressure at all. They were even praised. There was some criticism of Deng [from the left]. There was criticism of the Cultural Revolution [from the right]. But how much criticism was there of the planning faction? None at all, perhaps. When I talk about the planning faction, I’m talking about Chen Yun (陈云) and his son [Chen Yuan]. Given this environment, as Xi Jinping comes to power he wants to totally deny these two factions — that’s exactly what Hu Yaobang did back in the day. Openly, he must shift the larger political climate, otherwise everyone will feel disappointment. Within the Party, he must calm everyone’s nerves, suggesting he won’t push changes too rapidly, that everyone can just relax. I think this is a wise approach.

YZZK: Those internal speeches by Xi Jinping have created a lot of dissatisfaction. How do view this?
Wu Jiaxiang: My guess is that this is about [addressing] a sense among some prominent old politicians that says basically, look, this Xi Jinping cares only about Deng Xiaoping, he has no use for us — he denies Mao Zedong, he doesn’t mention Jiang Zemin, he talks even less about Hu Jintao. I believe Xi Jinping’s speech at the Central Party School already marked a major compromise, a huge back-step in comparison to how much Deng Xiaoping was willing to give. Deng Xiaoping essentially yielded nothing to the Cultural Revolution faction. Xi Jinping made this [compromise] because he recognised the fact that the Cultural Revolution faction had already made a comeback, that, moreover, this comeback was quite substantial, like a bunch of walking dead if you will. Faced with this situation, how could a General Secretary who has just come to power declare war against these monsters?
A wise politician won’t declare war before they’ve even managed to accomplish something. [Xi Jinping] has a major strategic consideration, and that is to first ensure that this year’s meetings of the National People’s Congress and the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference proceeed smoothly. If he didn’t compromise, this would instantly drive a major wedge in the Party. The ripples would run across the internet and through the Party ranks. So Xi Jinping must seek the greatest common denominator. He must find broad consensus — and that comes on the issue of the past thirty years of reform, which no side rejects outright. Everyone may be unsatisfied, or not entirely satisfied, but we can say we all have a minimum level of satisfaction, that no one wants to reverse reforms, and no one is calling for the Five Don’ts (五不搞). [NOTE: The “Five Don’ts” represent a more conservative position within the Party in opposition to deeper political reform. They are opposition to 1) a multi-party system , 2) a diversity of guiding political ideologies , 3) separation of powers, 4) federalism and 5) privatization.] There is no criticism [vocally within the Party] of universal values (普世价值). And there is substantial progress, for example on the question of work style, on the question of lifestyle [among officials], on the need to make meetings shorter, on not simply following the [Party] script, on not being extravagant [for official events], and on the anti-corruption drive. No one is going to oppose these new policies, regardless of which faction they belong to. This is a political movement of the greatest common denominator, and it can garner the broadest possible support across the country — and of course the lowest level of opposition.
Besides this, there is [talk, of] the system of re-education through labor, and the household register system, and these are both institutional reforms that would ripple through the entire system. They are not at all insignificant. There may still be a strong autocratic flavor (人治色彩) [to many of these policies], but in a larger sense they give people confidence in reform, and make people feel that this crop [of leaders] is ready to act as well as think and talk. It might be that he talks about some things he won’t necessarily do. He may also do things he doesn’t necessarily talk about. There may also be things he’s thinking about that he can neither say nor do. This administration is like an iceberg, and right now we see maybe one-eighth. There are still seven-eighths we haven’t seen yet.
YZZK: So all in all, you have a favorable view of Xi Jinping’s leadership?
Wu Jiaxiang: I certainly believe that he can deliver. I would say he’s more steady than pro-reform leaders we have had in the past (以前的改革派领导人). His approach and character are not bad — his strategy is one of besting his opponents after they strike (后发制人). A politician’s strength comes not in what they say, but in having the courage to face the criticisms of others — that’s what makes a politician. It’s about having the determination to accomplish the ideas in your heart at all costs, not about ingratiating yourself with others.
Actually, there is another simple way of looking at this. After the Cultural Revolution, not one member of the princelings betrayed their own father. Whoever their fathers were, they were, and they were nothing else besides. Xi Jinping can sit where he is now chiefly because his father, Xi Zhongxun (习仲勳), was endorsed by powerful people within the Party. He would never betray his father [and his father’s ideas]. He will strive in all situations to be the leader for the greatest common denominator within the Party. Once the configuration of the Party ranks changes in his grip, he will be able to have a free hand.

Yesterday, CMP reported the story of a street-side peddler in Guangzhou’s Haizhu District handled roughly by urban management officers, or chengguan (城管), as they tried to make her clear off. Posts alleging that the officers were excessively rough with the woman as her toddler looked on in terror are still being shared widely on the internet and social media. The following cartoon, posted by artist “Johnny Won” (原子漫画) to Sina Weibo and shared widely by others, depicts chengguan as wolves (a rather common association) abusing the woman at the center of this week’s story. The artist drew the cartoon on top of one of the original photos from the scene.

Fairness has been one of the central themes at China’s ongoing National People’s Congress. There has been chatter about the country’s “inefficient growth model,” about the need for more equity in areas like income distribution, housing and education. Party leaders have pledged to “construct a fair social system and realize more efficient growth.”
Nearly all of these issues touch on the intractable question of how China will deal with its massive population of “rural” migrant workers, or nongmingong (农民工), who account for roughly half of China’s official figures on “urbanization” of its population (52%), but who really exist in an unstable no-man’s land between the city and the countryside, cut off from social services.
As often happens during the NPC, it’s the stories breaking on the margins that tell us the most about the real challenges facing China. And one of the top stories breaking in the newspapers and on social media today goes to the heart of the above-mentioned set of challenges about urbanization and China’s migrant population.
According to reports today by Guangdong’s Southern Metropolis Daily, a conflict broke out in Guangzhou’s Haizhu District yesterday between a migrant woman selling guava on the street-side and urban management officers, or chengguan (城管) who were trying to get her to clear off.
For those who aren’t familiar with them, chengguan are non-police urban enforcers set up by local city governments across China to deal with issues of urban order and cleanliness, such as illegal building structures and unlicensed commercial activity. They are known for their violence, particularly against migrants, and are generally despised by the public.
Reports have widely circulated alleging that one of the officers — even his badge number, X080324, has been shared — grabbed the woman by the throat as her terrified toddler looked on. While authorities in Guangzhou have denied these reports, images like these are rapidly making their way across social media today.

The above post from the “Breaking News” Weibo — one among thousands — had drawn more than 36,000 reposts and more than 14,000 comments by early afternoon. The post linked to a Sina slideshow that had drawn more than 80,000 viewers.
The Guangzhou story has naturally brought fevered discussion about the issue of social fairness. It has also drawn remarks about the National People’s Congress. Invoking the recent case of a baby in the city of Changchun who was found dead after the SUV in which his parents had left him was stolen from a rest stop [See Chinese report here
], one user wrote on Weibo:

Who is more fortunate? Is it Little Hao Bo in Changchun, or is it this child in Guangzhou? Wake up, you sleeping delegates!

The post is accompanied by images of the Changchun child, “Little Hao Bo”, and the Guangzhou child, followed by a composite (originally from Reuters) of delegates sleeping during Premier Wen Jiabao’s government report to the NPC.

In another post, a user wrote: “This kind of violence, this kind of inhumanity, fills one with terror. People have the freedom to set up a stall and make a living for themselves, so long as they respect environmental hygiene!”
“For the system to tacitly approve this kind of inhumanity is the worst evil of all,” read one comment underneath the post.
“The Guangdong delegates to the ‘two meetings’ should respond to this and tell us what they think,” read another.
Another suggested solving the domestic issue of chengguan violence and a festering territorial dispute with Japan all in one stroke: “I encourage the NPC to draft a proposal for the sending of all urban management officers to the [disputed] Diaoyu Islands, where they can be responsible for environmental work!”

Understanding that all eyes are now turned to the annual “two meetings” (两会) of the National People’s Congress and the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC), we turn to different story — the 10-year anniversary of the SARS epidemic.
It was in March 2003 that the outbreak of Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome, or SARS, became international news. Hong Kong announced on March 11 that it was in the midst of a crisis. A few days later the World Health Organization confirmed cases in other countries. China, meanwhile, kept a lid on information about the outbreak within its own borders.
Bowing to international and domestic pressure, China finally changed course on SARS in late April. Beijing mayor Meng Xuenong was sacked on April 21, and the dismissal of China’s health minister, Zhang Wenkang, came soon after.
Through May and June 2003 there was a sense (and a hope) that China’s leadership was heading in a new direction, toward greater openness and transparency. There was even talk of a “media spring” in China as a new generation of commercial media hit hard on SARS and other stories, like the beating death of young migrant Sun Zhigang.
Those hoping for bigger and bolder political change in the wake of the SARS epidemic were setting themselves up for disappointment. Once the crisis had passed, Party leaders reasserted control. Media that had been bolder in their reporting of SARS and other stories were disciplined that summer.
But how did SARS change China? Has progress been made on issues like crisis preparedness?
In recent weeks a number of Chinese media have used the occasion of the SARS anniversary to take a broader look at China since SARS. The epidemic and its impact took the cover of the last edition of China Newsweekly magazine.

[ABOVE: The cover of the February 28 edition of China Newsweekly magazine: “Remembering and Reflecting Back on SARS Ten Years On.”]
Unfortunately, we can’t tackle translation of the entire report, but here is a taste, starting with the section about changes to China’s public health infrastructure:

Putting Public Health on the Fast Track
Once we “bid farewell” to SARS . . . it put China on the fast track to public health development. Zeng Guang (曾光) and other public health experts interviewed [for this story] all said that in the 10 years since SARS spending on public health in various areas has gone up by multiples of 10 or in some cases 100.
“SARS was a disaster,” says Hu Yonghua (胡永华), a professor in the School of Public Health at Peking University. “But it was also an opportunity, an opportunity for development of public health in China.”
Before SARS, the entire public health system, including the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, were in a state of transition — from fully subsidized state-run institutions to partially state-run institutions. This meant that they no longer served merely a public health role, but had to go out an make money for themselves as well.
Given this environment, says Hu Yonghua, public health organisations devoted most of their energy to survival through profit-making endeavours. “Before, the strongest [providers] were focused on operation [in various health services], but now the strongest were focused on income-generation. As funds were in short supply, many areas of operation fell by the wayside, existing only in name,” he said.
“SARS was like a mirror, reflecting all at once many public health problems that for a long time had been ignored,” said Hu Honghua.
Zeng Guang told China Newsweekly that after SARS the entire public health system entered a capacity building phase such as had never before been seen. The government spent 11.7 billion yuan to address deficiencies in hardware for the disease control and prevention system at the national and provincial levels. One classic example of hardware upgrades came in the building of negative pressure isolation wards.
Now these wards built especially to receive contagious patients suffering from respiratory issues are not only a common feature in [Chinese] hospitals, but a number of cities are now equipped with pressure isolation ambulances. These allow maximum prevention of infection when patients are being transferred [to healthcare facilities]. But 10 years ago when SARS struck hardly a single up-to-standard negative pressure isolation ward could be found in all of China!
In Zeng Guang’s view the most effective hardware upgrade was the building of an information and reporting system. Here is how he described the information and reporting system in the 1990s to China Newsweekly: “At that time, a national conference on epidemic disease was held just once a year. It was tallying of accounts (算账会) in which each representative from various provinces would bring their own tally. It was very backward.”
In fact, before the outbreak of SARS, China’s information and reporting system for public health was in effect non-existent. At that time [of SARS], the acting minister of health, Gao Qiang (高强), [who had taken over from sacked health minister Zhang Wenkang], had to check with each and every one of Beijing’s 175 [level-one] and [level-two] hospitals to arrive at numbers for [SARS] cases in the Beijing area, and this took a full week.
In the years following SARS, the Ministry of Health took the lead in building a public health monitoring and warning system (公共卫生监测预警系统), creating a comprehensive and strict information reporting system. Drawing particular attention was an epidemic network reporting system (疫情网络直报系统). Talking about this system, Zeng Guang calls uses two superlatives, calling it “definitely the world’s fastest, and definitely [the world’s] most advanced.”
. . .
The Bonus Benefits of SARS
When talking to China Newsweekly about the impact of SARS on public health in China, public health experts across the board also talked about the creation of emergency response plans (应急预案).
Among the many reasons behind the early failure to deal with SARS, says Zeng Guang, the first was that no plan existed for responding to a sudden-breaking public health incident.
Before SARS, China had no emergency response plan, no threat-level standard for sudden-breaking public health incidents, and no chain of command [for response] in the event of a public health crisis. It also had no system of responsibilities in place [outlining the responsibilities of various officials in the event of a crisis]. Moreover, there were no stipulations whatsoever about how information should be released, how to deal with news media, how various government offices should coordinate, how society should be mobilised or what major control measures should be taken in the event of a public health crisis.
So in the early stages of SARS, the response was chaos. Only on April 21 [when the health minister was sacked], did the Ministry of Health create a system for daily release of information about the epidemic. It was only two days later, on April 23, that the State Council created its SARS Prevention Command Center (防治SARS指挥部) to coordinate SARS prevention and response nationwide. It was only after this that the work of battling SARS got on the right track.
Visiting the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention on April 1, 2003, vice-minister Wu Yi (吴仪) said that one of the major goals of her visit was to promote the building of a comprehensive system for [dealing with] sudden-breaking health crises in China. This was the first time a Chinese leader publicly addressed the issue of an emergency response system.
On May 9, 2003, the State Council released its “Ordinance on Response to Sudden-Breaking Public Health Incidents” (公共卫生突发事件应急条例). This regulations, which was seen as a “turning point in public health,” had taken only two weeks from drafting to final approval. . .
The year after the Ordinance took effect, the Ministry of Health created its Health Emergency Response Office (卫生应急办公室), responsible for monitoring and warning on sudden-breaking public health incidents, as well as response preparedness and other work. By [the end of] 2005, 24 provinces, autonomous regions and municipalities had created health emergency response offices.

China’s annual legislative session, the National People’s Congress, will open in Beijing tomorrow, March 5. Topping the agenda at the meetings will be the formal installation of Xi Jinping and Li Keqiang as president and premier respectively. But some expect a number of reform initiatives to come to vote at the NPC session as well. How strong initiatives at the NPC are, of course, will depend on the Party leadership, as the legislative body has no real lawmaking power and serves largely as a rubber-stamp for Party initiatives. The above cartoon, posted by artist Kuang Biao (邝飚) to Sina Weibo, shows the fat pig of the National People’s Congress, bloated with wealth and privilege, tied up with red restraints (symbolizing Party power). A tag on the pig’s ear says “5”, a reference to the May 5 opening of the NPC.

The doyen of Chinese investigative reporting, Wang Keqin, is once again on the move. Editors pressured Wang into resigning earlier this week after his newspaper, the Economic Observer, came under pressure from authorities for a series of hard-hitting reports. [READ Wang’s review of investigative reporting in China].
A former CMP fellow, Wang is China’s best-known investigative reporter. Over the past decade he has tackled scores of sensitive stories, from systematic corruption in China’s taxi industry to the spread of HIV-AIDS through careless and unnecessary blood transfusions. He was forced out of his previous newspaper, the China Economic Times, in 2011 after a spate of hard-hitting reports, including a 2010 expose about the mishandling of tainted vaccines in Shanxi province.

Pressure over Wang Keqin’s reports has reportedly been mounting at the Economic Observer in recent months. Officials were particularly upset about a report the paper ran last summer exploring disastrous effects of record floods that hit Beijing in July.
According to the Weiboscope, a tool created by researchers at the University of Hong Kong’s Journalism & Media Studies Centre that measures trending topics on the Sina Weibo platform, Wang Keqin’s exit from the Economic Observer is among the top topics being discussed in the past 24 hours.

In a post made to Sina Weibo yesterday, Wang Keqin shared details with his more than 400,000 followers about the clearing out of his desk at the Economic Observer the day before:

Yesterday I cleared out of the @EconomicObserver. These are the petitioning materials I received over a period of ten years at the China Economic Times, two tons of them. For other people these might just be waste paper; for me, they represent the trust and hope the people place in me. The things stacked here are misery, blood and tears, but I’ve always seen them as treasures. They go with me wherever I go. I can throw away my furniture, but these cannot be discarded!
昨日我搬离@经济观察报 ，这是过去十多年我在@中国经济时报 时，全国各地上访者给我的上访村料，足有两吨重。对别人而言，可能视为废纸；对我而言，却是民众对我的信任与期盼，虽然堆着的全是苦难与血泪，但我一直视其为宝贝，走到哪里带到哪里。家俱可以扔，信任不能丢！

The following post by RC-ZSD-MZ Li Xin Tu Zhi (RC-ZSD-MZ历心图志), a user with more than 7,000 followers, was deleted from Sina Weibo sometime before 8:37am today, February 27, 2013. The deleted material is in fact a re-post of images that still remain public on this user’s account showing protests in various places in China calling on officials to make their assets public. [More on deleted posts at the WeiboScope Search, by the Journalism and Media Studies Centre]
The original post reads:

Citizens are taking action: demanding that officials reveal their assets!
公民在行动：要求官员公开财产！

The image strip included in the post is below:

It is not clear why the original post would be allowed to remain on the Sina Weibo platform while the re-post is deleted. The answer could lie in the extended follower network of the re-poster.

NOTE: All posts to The Anti-Social List are listed as “permission denied” in the Sina Weibo API, which means they were deleted by Weibo managers, not by users themselves.