Is China's political environment loosening up, or is the government cracking down? It's hard to tell. Chinese President and Communist Party General Secretary Hu Jintao (
For example, Hu has decided to honor the memory of his mentor, former general secretary Hu Yaobang (
Hu Yaobang was a founder of the China Youth League, regarded as a relatively liberal institution in the People's Republic, who in the 1980s promoted political reforms and rehabilitated virtually all the victims of Mao Zedong's (毛澤東) purges. By contrast, the younger Hu has narrowed the public space for political discourse that had opened up during the latter years of his predecessor, Jiang Zemin (江澤民), when market pressure was forcing media outlets to be more daring and wide-ranging.
Since taking over, Hu Jintao has arrested a number of outspoken journalists in an effort to rein in the media. His government has also detained an array of public intellectuals who have been critical of its policies, including cyber-dissidents Liu Di (劉萩) and Shi Tao (師濤) -- who was arrested thanks to Yahoo's collaboration with the police in identifying him -- and freelance writers Yu Jie (余杰) and Liu Xiaobo (劉曉波).
Military doctor Jiang Yanyong (蔣彥永) was detained in 2003 after he publicly rebutted the party's assertion that the SARS epidemic had been brought under control. Last year, he was placed under surveillance when he called on the party to revise its judgment of the 1989 Tiananmen demonstration.
Hu's tightening of controls over political discourse and the media intensified with the publication in September last year of a list of "Top Fifty Public Intellectuals" in the Southern Weekly. The list, dominated by intellectuals who in the 1990s had called for freedom of speech and political participation, appeared with this statement: "This is the time when China is facing the most problems in its unprecedented transformation, and when it most needs public intellectuals to be on the scene and to speak out."
On Nov. 23 last year an article in the Shanghai Party Committee's orthodox Liberation Daily disagreed. It attacked the concept of "public intellectuals," claiming that their "independence drives a wedge" between intellectuals and the party, and between intellectuals and the masses.
Hu's leadership has tried to draw public attention to the growing gap between rich and poor. But its reaction to the book A Survey of Chinese Peasants, which is based on interviews over several years with farmers in the poor province of Anhui, was a telling reminder that public intellectuals are not welcome to contribute to that effort.
The authors, the husband-and-wife team of Chen Guidi (
Hu's government has also tightened controls over the media. Reports on peasant and worker demonstrations against corrupt officials and illegal property confiscations have been banned. Those who dare to protest, such as Beijing University journalism professor Jiao Guobiao (
Similarly, Wang Yi (王毅), a law lecturer at Chengdu University who called for freedom of speech and association, was barred from teaching. The liberal journal Strategy and Management was closed down. Even the editor-in-chief of China Youth Daily, the newspaper affiliated with Hu's own China Youth League power base, which had been aggressive in exposing official corruption, was recently detained.
Hu's rule is not a return to the Mao era. Despite the regime's vast means of censorship, new communications technologies like the Internet make it increasingly difficult for the party to maintain effective control over people's views.
Moreover, persecution of political dissenters does not now reach far beyond the accused to involve their associates. While scores have lost their positions and others have been imprisoned, most are briefly detained and then allowed to find other jobs in China's burgeoning civil society.
By comparison with the late 1990s, however, the space for political discourse has undeniably narrowed, crushing expectations that the country would continue on a liberalizing course. Hu Jintao may have made a genuflection to his more liberal mentor, but in the two decades since the elder Hu's fall from power, even as private space has expanded, China has become a politically far less open society.
Merle Goldman, the author of the forthcoming book From Comrade to Citizen: The Struggle for Political Rights in China, is an associate of the Fairbank Center for East Asian Studies at Harvard.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
In an article published on this page on Tuesday, Kaohsiung-based journalist Julien Oeuillet wrote that “legions of people worldwide would care if a disaster occurred in South Korea or Japan, but the same people would not bat an eyelid if Taiwan disappeared.” That is quite a statement. We are constantly reading about the importance of Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC), hailed in Taiwan as the nation’s “silicon shield” protecting it from hostile foreign forces such as the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), and so crucial to the global supply chain for semiconductors that its loss would cost the global economy US$1
Concerns that the US might abandon Taiwan are often overstated. While US President Donald Trump’s handling of Ukraine raised unease in Taiwan, it is crucial to recognize that Taiwan is not Ukraine. Under Trump, the US views Ukraine largely as a European problem, whereas the Indo-Pacific region remains its primary geopolitical focus. Taipei holds immense strategic value for Washington and is unlikely to be treated as a bargaining chip in US-China relations. Trump’s vision of “making America great again” would be directly undermined by any move to abandon Taiwan. Despite the rhetoric of “America First,” the Trump administration understands the necessity of
US President Donald Trump’s challenge to domestic American economic-political priorities, and abroad to the global balance of power, are not a threat to the security of Taiwan. Trump’s success can go far to contain the real threat — the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) surge to hegemony — while offering expanded defensive opportunities for Taiwan. In a stunning affirmation of the CCP policy of “forceful reunification,” an obscene euphemism for the invasion of Taiwan and the destruction of its democracy, on March 13, 2024, the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) used Chinese social media platforms to show the first-time linkage of three new
Sasha B. Chhabra’s column (“Michelle Yeoh should no longer be welcome,” March 26, page 8) lamented an Instagram post by renowned actress Michelle Yeoh (楊紫瓊) about her recent visit to “Taipei, China.” It is Chhabra’s opinion that, in response to parroting Beijing’s propaganda about the status of Taiwan, Yeoh should be banned from entering this nation and her films cut off from funding by government-backed agencies, as well as disqualified from competing in the Golden Horse Awards. She and other celebrities, he wrote, must be made to understand “that there are consequences for their actions if they become political pawns of