When the media is a blank paper

Image: Joseph Chan

By Lee Je-Hoon

There was once the notion that in order to accurately read China’s inner workings, you should read the South China Morning Post (SCMP), an influential Hong Kong newspaper founded in 1903. As most of the media in China have been state-run, it was a compliment that you would only appreciate if you had read the newspaper, which reported with accuracy based on various sources inside China.

However, since the Chinese Internet giant Alibaba took over SCMP in December 2015, subtle changes have taken place within the SCMP editorial office. The number of reporters who came from mainland China with pro-China tendencies has increased, which some longtime readers attributed to the deteriorated quality of the reporting. 

The turning point further triggering the departure of competent reporters at the SCMP—be it due to incongruity or for personal reasons—was the anti-government protests in 2019, which led to the enactment of the Hong Kong National Security Law. In May 2020, the Chinese National People’s Congress (NPC) passed this law on behalf of the Hong Kong Legislative Council, and in a nutshell, put an end to political freedom in Hong Kong.

It was the first time that mainland China directly legislated a law in Hong Kong since the city was returned to Chinese rule in 1997. The NPC stepped in and essentially resolved Hong Kong’s futile attempt (in 2003) to introduce a national security law, crushed by strong opposition from Hong Kong citizens and civic groups.

While China took control of Hong Kong through the the National People’s Congress, the silent repression also took place within the SCMP. The company’s higher-ups directed use of words like “riots” over “protests” to describe the anti-government demonstrations against a proposed extradition bill by the Hong Kong government. At SCMP, some reporters did not agree with such maneuvers. Two Sides of A Lie was a novel written and published in 2021 by a couple of the reporters who were inspired by real events that took place in the newsroom and in Hong Kong. 

The Washington Post, an influential American newspaper founded in 1877, adopted “Democracy Dies in Darkness” as its slogan in February 2017. It was the first adopted slogan ever for the 140-year-old paper. Some say that the Washington Post’s call out on the crisis of democracy was aimed at then-President Donald Trump’s regressive policies.

In explaining his purchase of the Post in a 2016 interview, Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos, had used the phrase. “I think a lot of us believe this, that democracy dies in darkness, that certain institutions have a very important role in making sure that there is light.”

The reason political freedom is disappearing in Hong Kong or that the crisis of democracy is being discussed in the United States boils down to one thing: politics no longer reflect the will of the people. In mainland China, people who no longer could tolerate the draconian zero-Covid policy took to the streets in November, holding “blank paper” protests and even calling for Xi Jinping’s resignation. The demonstrations can also be viewed as a failure of Chinese politics.

Although the Chinese authorities have succeeded in calming the people’s dissatisfaction by scrapping the zero-Covid strategy, they cannot prevent the outburst of anger with surveillance and control for good. Perhaps the blank paper protests represent a new voice calling out for freedom of expression in the Chinese society, which has predominantly put its emphasis on economic growth. While contradictions in the Chinese society will be difficult to resolve in the short term, conflicts and dissatisfaction will, inevitably, still increase, as would public resistance. However, if politics continues to fail, it will only raise the threshold of resistance and create antipathy.

* The blank paper represents everything protesters wish they could say but cannot.

 
Editor’s note: Lee Je-Hoon is an editor in the South Korean daily newspaper The Seoul Shinmun. This commentary was first published in Korean in the Seoul Shinmun.

Once bitten, twice shy: the world is prepared as Covid-torn China resumes international travel

Image: Kayla Kozlowski

Covid is tearing through China, and the Chinese government decided it is time to open its doors to allow citizens to travel abroad.

Chinese citizens are flooding foreign cities in droves following China’s sudden abolition of its draconian zero-Covid policy. Half the passengers on two flights from China to Milan on Christmas week were found to be infected with the virus.

Just as the rest of the world is beginning to move beyond the shadow of Covid-19 that originated from Wuhan in 2020, Beijing’s about-turn is once more upending the new normal. Millions are contracting infections in China each day, and a proportion of them are travelling abroad, while their government is increasingly evasive in the retreat from the “dynamic zero-Covid” strategy. Forget about sharing data as that would directly weigh on the credibility of President Xi Jinping’s “all-out people’s war” on the coronavirus.

Given the circumstances, it is inevitable for countries to protect their own people and avoid another global spread of infections. A growing list of them are requiring negative test results or reinstating testings on China arrivals. Beijing via its state media has predictably, railed against these foreign governments, calling the measures “discriminatory”.

As recent as November, the Chinese leadership was reiterating resoluteness to uphold Xi’s hallmark policy, the basis in which it had used to claim superiority of its authoritarian model over Western democracy as evidenced by the pandemic chaos in the West particularly in the early days of containment in 2020. By the end of the month, however, China was roiled by mass public protests against the controls, triggered by a deadly fire in the western Xinjiang region where the victims were trapped in the building because of lockdown measures. Many defied repercussions for political activity in the modern autocracy, backed by surveillance technologies that give protesters no place to hide, to join the most widespread demonstrations since the protests in Tiananmen Square in 1989. In their wake, Beijing shifted course almost overnight, following the approach of “living with the virus” like the Western economies that it previously scorned at for their incompetence in containing Covid.

For now, there is no time for the ideological argument, not when the Chinese economy’s well-being hangs in the balance. Being able to ensure that the quality of life continues to improve for citizens is the unwritten pact and yardstick by which the public measures the Chinese Communist Party’s legitimacy to rule, more so as they tolerate rising authoritarianism. 

China’s economy is sputtering. The pandemic battered domestic consumption, the pillar to which Beijing shifted towards to reduce the economy’s reliance on exports for growth as well as exposure to external factors it can’t control. In the five years to 2019, prior to the pandemic, the share of exports in its GDP shrank from 23.5 percent to 18.4 percent. The trend has reversed since then as home-bound consumers around the world snapped up Chinese goods when Covid hit. Then, Beijing’s strict lockdowns in 2022 disrupting supply chains took a toll on export growth.

Exports dropped 8.7 percent in November from a year earlier for a second straight month, the steepest fall since February 2020 when the viral outbreak occurred. Weakening global demand due to high inflation and aggressive interest rate hikes by major economies like the US, Japan and South Korea didn’t help.

The World Bank has slashed its 2022 growth forecast for the Chinese economy to 2.7 percent from 4.3 percent. In his New Year address though, Xi said the country’s GDP exceeded  US$17.4 trillion in 2022. That would have been a 4.4 percent rise from 2021.

Officially, China has registered just more than 5,200 deaths from Covid, a tiny fraction of US’s 1.1 million, the world’s highest death toll. There is a yawning gap between the picture Beijing painted and the reality reflected in social media posts from Chinese citizens across the country. Hospital emergency wards are overflowing with patients and medical supplies are running low or out. Even shelves of pharmacies in Hong Kong are cleaned out either by relatives snapping up basic drugs to send to families in mainland China or Chinese visitors to the city.

China’s border reopening on January 8 puts Hong Kong in the first line of fire. While the Hong Kong government is eager to reopen its border with the mainland, Hongkongers are apprehensive, fearing another wave of infections among other concerns. It doesn’t need a sixth wave after the last one in 2022 claimed over 11,000 lives. 

During the Lunar New Year in 2020, the Chinese government allowed millions to travel abroad when it knew there was a new coronavirus infecting its people. It suppressed information and covered up until the virus was rapidly spread to the rest of the world.

Several mutations of the coronavirus have been identified since December 2020. China’s current outbreak is causing concern of producing a new variant, which will raise questions such as: will the vaccines still work and are people more at risk for getting sick.

There is a sense of déjà vu, but this time, the rest of the world will not be taken by surprise.

In the internet army business, more is better

Early this year, my phone was flooded with recruitment text messages of online critics for hire.

At a time when consumers are constantly warned of online scamming, these messages could be just that. But they may also be authentic calls to join the army of social media followers, or a group known as Internet Water Army, to support accounts spinning narratives that advance China’s objectives, as well as conjure up tales that serve nationalistic interests.

The recruitment texts read: Large numbers of part-time “thumbs-up critics” urgently required. Daily wages of HK$800 to HK$2,900. No experience required and can work from home. Stand to earn as much as $100,000 a month. Interested parties, WhatsApp XXXX-XXXX.

If there was something that China has an edge over many other countries, it’s the population, as well as money. Capitalizing on them, it has unleashed a global campaign to burnish its image abroad and reiterate its narrative aimed at changing the world order. Much research on what analysts called Russian-style disinformation campaigns on international social media platforms has been released. Freedom House pointed out that the first campaign which caught international attention had focused on mayoral elections in Kaohsiung, the southern city of Taiwan in November 2018. An unlikely pro-China Kuomintang (KMT) candidate, Han Kuo-yu, won the race in a traditional Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) stronghold. Fake news stories and doctored images from a network of sources with alleged links to Beijing spread widely on social media.

The following August, Twitter announced it took down 936 accounts used as part of a Chinese state-directed disinformation campaign to “deliberately and specifically attempting to sow political discord in Hong Kong, including undermining the legitimacy and political positions of the protest movement on the ground”. Youtube and Facebook revealed similar removals on a smaller scale.

More recently, the YouTube account of Hong Kong’s newly-elected Chief Executive, John Lee, was terminated over US sanctions against him over his role in eroding the Chinese territory’s freedoms when he was the  security chief. “Google complies with applicable US sanctions laws and enforces related policies under its Terms of Service,” the company said a statement in April. “After review and consistent with these policies, we terminated the Johnlee2022 YouTube channel”.

Despite the platforms’ efforts, we know that it’s inconceivable to eliminate disinformation and fake news. Chinese trolls are operating in large numbers, pumped by capital from the state. A New York Times report showed how Chinese authorities tap private businesses to generate content, build followers, track critics and provide other services for information campaigns. The Shanghai police in an online notice sought bids from contractors that could provide accounts on overseas social platforms including Twitter and Facebook at any time when needed. The content required was highly time-sensitive and the supplier needed to provide about 300 accounts per month on each platform.

Bot-like networks of accounts have driven an online surge in pro-China traffic in recent years. As have Chinese diplomats, government advisers and state media that use social media to not just defend national interests but also to propagate conflicting conspiracy theories. These wolf warriors have also helped to nurture a generation of hypersensitive keyboard nationalists or little pinks. With a combination of networks on hand, the posts sometimes bolster official government accounts with likes or reposts, and on other occasions they attack social media users who are critical of China or the nation’s policies.

The recruitment texts have died down after March when the Covid-19 outbreak in Shanghai—the city’s most widespread in the over two-year pandemic—the biggest test to China’s zero-Covid policy. The outbreak has widened to the capital Beijing and many other regions. Still, there is no doubt they can easily resurface again, as and when needed.

The face of zero-Covid

Image: Sebastiaan Stam

At lunch recently, a friend raised the question of why China would persist on a zero-Covid policy when the science and reality are refuting a possible attainment, and rest of the world is adjusting to living with the virus. After more than two years of battling uncertainties, rounds of viral mutations, and waves of outbreaks, the virus is here to stay.

It’s tricky to explain with certainty of China’s adamant stance, but face would be a predominating factor. The country was one of the first few to claim success in containing the virus during the early days of the pandemic with its “dynamic zero-Covid” policy that uses mass testing and strict lockdowns to fight outbreaks. In fact, officials have hailed the policy superior to the approach taken by the democratic West, using the two approaches to compare the Chinese governance and system against that of the US and Europe.

However, as the world soon found out, the pattern of the pandemic has been a series of Covid-19 waves of differing variants: surges in new cases  followed by declines, which makes China’s war to eliminate one of Mother Nature’s most contagious viruses an elusive act. Worse still, the lightning speed in which the Omicron variant spreads is exposing the problems of a zero policy not just to the world, but more damagingly, to its own people.

This year is a crucial one as a five-yearly party congress will convene in the autumn when the chief would launch a third term and a pathway to lifelong rule. Domestic stability and success are important building blocks to claims of infallibility and hence the leadership’s legitimacy.

For a gauge of the zero policy’s viability, look at the semi-autonomous city of Hong Kong which has — until Beijing’s tightened control following the anti-democracy protests in 2019 — thrived on Western values and systems. Hong Kong has had an enviable record containing the coronavirus up to the beginning of 2022 when Omicron infections surged, from recording one of the world’s lowest Covid-19 death rates to one of the worst. The dynamic zero-Covid of mass testing and strictest restrictions triggered chaos and sent the city’s healthcare system into overrun. A shocking photograph taken in a hospital ward where filled body bags on stretchers piled up next to Covid-19 patients went viral.

In a pandemic, free flow of information and transparency count, and it can sway public trust in the government. But the evolving political landscape and erosion of civil liberties have elevated citizens’ distrust of the Hong Kong government to new heights. And that was evident in the low vaccination rate throughout 2021 despite the absence of any anti-vax movement and an ample supply of vaccines including the mRNA vaccines made in the West, unlike in the mainland where only Chinese Sinopharm and Sinovac vaccinese are approved.

As Hong Kong emerged from the lockdown last week, it remains caught between a rock and a hard place. Various border controls and quarantine requirements  continue to hurt an economy that relies on international finance and trade when other countries and regions are  reopening. Mainland China, on the other hand, with a vast domestic market is pivoting inwards – domestic cycle of production, distribution, and consumption – to recast growth. There is no visible sign that Beijing will change course from the zero-Covid policy as officials have tied that to the party’s governing legitimacy. At least not anytime soon. Afterall, face runs deep.

Debunking disinformation

Image: Dimitar Belchev

As we sat down to pen our first blog, we spent considerable time thinking of what to write. There are many issues to talk about, yet there is also little. In a sense. Disinformation has never been more rife, used by those with motivated ills to impose authoritarianism. And circumstances have appeared to be on their side. The global pandemic has stifled economic growth, exposed economic vulnerabilities and geopolitical risks as well as thrown Western democracy into a deeper crisis. They present these regimes with the power and the means to mislead.

In fact, here’s how the editors from Two Sides of A Lie will posture themselves to craft the Han Herald’s stance on Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine.

“The situation is tricky,” editor-in-chief Pax Yong said, cupping his chin with his palm, face slightly frowned. “As a major media organization, the world will expect to hear from us on where we stand.

“Our position is that Russia’s attack is wrong in principle but we don’t condemn it. As China said – and it is justified – Russia has legitimate security concerns of Nato’s expansion,” he looked at the two other editors and the pair of editorial writers in the meeting room. “I want to hear your ideas on how can we build out this position.”

“Easy,” Theresa Chu, the deputy editor jumped up, “Ukraine and Russia are both key components of China’s Belt and Road strategy. If there’s a long-standing unrest in that part of the world, BRI will be paralyzed.

“China takes a world view with BRI, a policy that benefits the global economy. Condemning and pointing fingers doesn’t serve the interests of the world.”

“You mean it doesn’t serve the Party’s interests,” muttered one of the editorial writers, Sam, under his breath.

Aloud, the writer said pointedly, “If we don’t condemn, we are condoning. War is wrong, however you argue. It’s a regression in humanity. As a media, we have a social responsibility to inform the public about…”

“Not when we are protecting national security,” snapped Pax.

“Where’s the threat to national security here? Or are we again propagating the Party’s agenda?”

“We have to be fair and take a global view on this,” Pax ignored Sam’s retort. “China is a superpower with the integrity that we don’t interfere in other nations’ internal affairs and we don’t take sides, in this case with the Americans and their allies.”

The editorial published the next day began with:

Russia’s military action against Ukraine violates international norms. The Western allies of Ukraine have condemned the air and land strikes and contended it as war, but Moscow’s claim of a long-standing security threat that propelled it to act must not be ignored. National security is arguably the biggest concern of any sovereignty and nothing should stand in the way of a government protecting its interests, hence its citizens.

In reality, Beijing has refused to recognize Russia’s assaults as an invasion and abstained from a United Nations vote condemning the country. Vladimir Putin is hailed by China’s nationalistic internet trolls – “little pinks” – to be fighting against the West’s political, ideological and military aggression, which dovetails with the Chinese narrative of the US and its allies’ fear of the mainland’s rise and the alternative world order it wants to create. The little pinks also snapped up products from an official Russian online store, the Russian State Pavilion, on China’s e-commerce platform JD.com in an apparent show of solidarity that is in fact Chinese jingoism.

Many, especially those outside China, have interpreted Beijing’s noncommittal position of acknowledging Russia’s “legitimate concerns” and caveating the sovereignty argument as a pretext for the future when it reclaims Taiwan, which the leadership reiterates that it will do, even if it has to use force.

The parallels between what is happening in Russia and Ukraine and the possibility of what China might do to Taiwan are glaring to those who have witnessed and experienced Beijing’s hard-handedness.

In China, five renowned Chinese historians wrote an open letter denouncing the Russia invasion and called for peace, in the hope to persuade Beijing to make its stance clearer: that what Russia is doing is wrong. “Historically, the biggest catastrophes began with local conflicts,” the intellectuals wrote. The open letter survived online just for a couple of hours before it was taken down by internet censors, followed by pro-war Chinese trolls calling out on the authors “traitorous”.

What worries the Chinese Communist Party most is how its own people will read the invasion and their worldview. Just as it does with high-stake issues, it has doubled down on manipulating and controlling discussion about Ukraine in the press and social media.

China’s aggressive mouthpiece Global Times accused the US, which it called the world’s biggest war machine, of creating greater chaos with its propaganda tools operating at “full throttle”, referring to a New York Times article that described Chinese netizens as pro-war and pro-Russia. “The tone of the article’s argument sounds as if China and its netizens are standing on the opposite of the rest of the world,” said the state-owned media.

China has taken a more confrontational stance on foreign policy in recent years. Hawkish diplomats, the state media and some of the government’s influential advisers have also helped to nurture a generation of online warriors who see the world as a zero-sum game between China and the West, especially the US.

And then there is the global network of agents, painstakingly built under China’s United Front strategy, ever ready to move at Beijing’s bidding. The only way to counter disinformation, misinformation or mal-information is to keep fighting and exposing the truth.