BBC BLOGS - James Reynolds' China

Archives for May 2009

Facing swine flu scrutiny

James Reynolds | 07:37 UK time, Friday, 29 May 2009

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China is taking the H1N1 threat pretty seriously. Arriving at Beijing's airport right now is a bit like turning up at a laboratory.

I've just come back to Beijing following a few days in the UK. As our flight came in to land, the cabin crew handed out H1N1 health forms issued by China. These forms asked us to list our seat number and our contact numbers in Beijing. We also had to answer the question: "Have you had close contact with pigs within the past week?"
Guard at Beijing Capital International airport

When we landed, we were told to stay in our seats. A team of Chinese health inspectors wearing masks then boarded the plane. The inspectors proceeded slowly down each row, pointing what I can only describe as a temperature gun at each passenger's forehead (we made their jobs easier by politely tilting our foreheads to the inspectors as they went by).

A few minutes later, the inspectors escorted one passenger in an orange t-shirt off the plane. He looked pretty embarrassed.

Inside the airport terminal, we passed through a further two checkpoints staffed by guards checking for anyone with a fever.

Leaflets warned us: "It is the responsibility of every citizen to self-monitor at home for seven days after coming back from abroad."

In case that man with the orange t-shirt is diagnosed with H1N1, the Health Ministry has enough information to track us all down and put us all into quarantine for a week.

When does old age begin?

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James Reynolds | 11:50 UK time, Monday, 18 May 2009

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As I've written here before, China is a country that reveres age. But there's one question that I've always forgotten to ask: when does old age actually begin in this country?

Older chinese people

There are a few clues in the way people address one another. In China, when you're young, you can be called "Xiao" - which means little. If you're older, you can get the prefix "Lao" - which means old.

So, at what age can you get promoted from Xiao to Lao? Thirty five, says a friend of mine. However, whether you're called Xiao or Lao also depends on whether or not the person you're talking to is older or younger than you.

Still, if you've hit 35 and you've managed to win yourself the prefix Lao, you don't automatically qualify to be seen as old. For that, apparently, you may have to join a dance troupe.

This morning I came across a picture in the China Daily newspaper of a group of dancers from Shanghai posing with visiting cheerleaders from the Dallas Cowboys.

The Chinese dancers appear to be in their 40s or 50s - each of them apparently healthy and vigorous. However, the picture caption refers to them as "local elderly." (I can't imagine they will take this as a compliment.)

In China, respect for age seems to be mirrored by an equally powerful desire to delay the moment when you will be seen as old.

The Communist Party's most senior leaders - the nine members of the Politburo Standing Committee - do not appear to have a single grey hair between them. It's a fairly astonishing achievement for a group of men well into their 50s and 60s.

The only time you tend to see a government official with grey hair is if he has been arrested and put on trial - where he is deprived both of his freedom and, apparently, his hair dye.

Still searching for answers

James Reynolds | 00:01 UK time, Tuesday, 12 May 2009

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I've just been down to Sichuan to see what things are like a year after the earthquake which killed more than 85,000 people....

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At 2.30pm on 12 May 2008, pupils at the Xinjian primary school in Dujiangyan would have been outside in the playground. But the Sichuan earthquake came two minutes earlier - at 2.28pm - while the children were still inside their classrooms.

Their school buildings collapsed on top of them, killing more than 400 pupils.

Xinjian primary schoolBut every other building nearby stayed standing. The parents believe their children were killed by bad building work - by negligence not natural disaster.

Fu Xuezhong lost his 12-year-old son Fu Tian - his only child. At a ceremony held at the ruins of the school three weeks after the earthquake, he carried a framed picture of his son and laid a single flower in the rubble.

"We want justice for our children," he said. "We won't rest till we get justice."

But, a year later, you won't find news of the parents' campaign. The official legend of the Sichuan earthquake does not have any inconvenient chapters.

National Story

China is, famously, a state without a God. But over the last 60 years, the Communist Party has created its own kind of religion - a national story or mythology in which everyone here can have faith.

In this story, the Party united the country against foreign enemies. Its leaders are benevolent, even god-like, figures. Natural disasters are trials to be overcome.

Hilltop in Beichuan
The Sichuan earthquake has now taken a prominent place in this national story. The government's response was portrayed as quick and compassionate. The Premier, Wen Jiabao, was cast as the noble hero - the leader who cried with the bereaved and who promised that fallen towns would one day rise again.

This is the official legend of the earthquake. It's what ordinary Chinese people are told - and it's probably what most of them genuinely believe as well.

On a hilltop overlooking the ruins of the town of Beichuan, hundreds of Chinese tourists now queue up to buy pieces of this legend. Vendors sell picture books and DVDs of the disaster, incense and candles to be placed on memorials.

"This national tragedy has made us build a much stronger nation," says one tourist. "The government is deeply concerned, ordinary people work hard - all obstacles are overcome."

Campaign Silenced

But these tourists know almost nothing of the parents' story. Since early June 2008, the Communist Party has banned the Chinese media from covering the parents' campaign.

Over the last year, local officials have harassed, sometimes even attacked the parents in an effort to keep them quiet.

Fu Xuezhong
A year on from the earthquake, Fu Xuezhong looks much older. He and his wife live in a temporary home provided by the government.

His hopes for justice have now gone. The remains of his son's school have been cleared away. Any evidence of bad building work has disappeared. A recent government inquiry has found that no-one was to blame for the collapse of this school or any other.

"It's not just the earthquake that made the building collapse," insists Fu Xuezhong, "but the government can't acknowledge that fact. It would bring out a lot of other troubles. They will never acknowledge it."

He concludes: "There isn't much hope for justice anymore, I think it's hopeless."

He Deming listens to Fu Xuezhong. His 11-year-old son He Jie died when the school collapsed.

"We want to petition," He Deming says, "but how can we do so? We get stopped, we can't even walk out. I won't give up not until I get justice for my child."

Artist Campaign

These parents are not alone. The artist Ai Weiwei, who helped to design the Olympic stadium in Beijing, has led a campaign for disclosure and justice.

Artist Ai Weiwei
In the absence of an official tally of dead schoolchildren, Mr Ai sent 50 volunteers to Sichuan to compile their own toll. (In early May 2009, the government finally issued its own number: 5335 pupils were missing or dead.)

Ai Weiwei says that his attempts to discover the truth have routinely been impeded by government officials.

"It's a tradition for China not to reveal any public information," he says. "This earthquake relates to too many issues - such as wrongdoings in the construction. And also some policy mistakes after the quake such as aid distribution and the humanitarian effort."

Cemetery

The children who died in the Xinjian school have been buried in a special section of the Bao Shanta cemetery. Fu Xuezhong takes us there, along with two other fathers.

"This is it," says Fu Xuezhong as he points to his son's grave. "These three kids are buried together because they were good friends."

Moments later, an official guarding the cemetery stops us from recording and he calls the police. Officers from a special unit set up to deal with the parents are called in. They ask us for our press credentials.

Fu Xuezhong and the two other fathers quietly walk away down the hill.

In the official legend of the Sichuan earthquake, there is no room for the parents who want to know why their children were killed.

A case of stolen identity

James Reynolds | 11:07 UK time, Thursday, 7 May 2009

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What do you do when one of your classmates is smarter than you? You can try to copy their homework. You can sit back and hope that they fail miserably in life. Or, you can steal their exam results, their name, and their entire identity as well.

The victim - Luo Caixia - lost her identity when a classmate stole her scores in the national college entrance exam. This exam can be the most important single moment in a young person's life - what you get in this test decides whether or not you can get into university. So, if you get cheated out of your results (and your identity as well) you'll probably be pretty angry.

Here's a range of comments we've translated from Chinese websites...

"Well, if you want to start investigating all the faking problems created by the powerful and the rich, there's too many to check."

"This is nothing. Two of my high school classmates didn't get good enough scores, but they managed to fake their results so that they could be accepted by universities. Could it be better than this? This is a world that belongs to the powerful people."

"I'm sympathetic to what Luo Caixia is going through, but I don't think she should seek revenge and push the other family. The official already said sorry, why does she have to push them off the cliff? The university graduates nowadays are just about revenge, it doesn't solve any problems."

"If someone really looks into this, I bet there're people who just do this as a profession, faking people's identity."

What do you think?

The right qualifications

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James Reynolds | 08:34 UK time, Tuesday, 5 May 2009

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In China, much is made of age and experience. The more you have of both, the better.

Chairman Mao ruled into his 80s. Deng Xiaoping only got started as China's leader when he was in his mid-70s. Before China's current leader Hu Jintao took over in 2002, there was some worried discussion here that he might be too young because he was just 60. (He got the job anyway.)

In this country, there's also plenty of reverence for the right qualifications. If you're the health minister, you are expected to be a doctor. If you're the defence minister, you're expected to be pretty good with a gun.

Ed Miliband makes a speech at Peking UniversityIdeally, you bury yourself away in obscure pursuit of your specialist subject for 30 years, in order to come out the other end as a grizzled, trusted public expert.

So, what was this country to make of a visiting climate change minister from Britain who was just 39 and who wasn't even a scientist? This point clearly intrigued the audience listening to Ed Miliband on Monday morning at Peking University.

After he delivered a speech on climate change, Mr Miliband was twice asked about the fact that he wasn't a scientist or even an environmental expert - he studied politics, philosophy and economics at university.

His answer to the students: "Your basic point about me - that I'm not a scientist - maybe that is one aspect of politics in Britain, which is that people get appointed to jobs where they don't necessarily have expertise. But what do I hope to try and bring to this?... I hope that the skill politicians have - the only skill maybe - is the ability to try and persuade people."

James Reynolds interviews Ed MilibandOn Mr Miliband's adopted subject of climate change, China will need plenty of persuading.

In December, world leaders will gather in Copenhagen in order to negotiate a successor treaty to the Kyoto Protocol.

China has made it clear that it's willing to co-operate with action to stop global warming. But it insists that as a developing nation, it cannot accept any cap on its emissions. Since China is now reported to be the world's largest carbon emitter, this is a pretty critical point.

After his speech, I sat down with Mr Miliband and I began by asking him whether or not he thought China would agree to cap its emissions:

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