You might have noticed that the small banner on the right now says Hao Wu is free. He was released yesterday and is now back home. A full account of his work, arrest and captivity can be found here.
To recap briefly, Hao Wu is a film maker with no political agenda or background in activism. He was vanished by the Beijing cops in February, in connection with his latest project on illegal house churches in Beijing. His own blog makes it clear that he didn’t share their beliefs. Nonetheless, he was picked up and held for “investigation” over a five month period – apparently something to do with “state secrets.”
“Revealing state secrets” is the catch-all law often used to arrest people working in the media. Add to that “causing turmoil” and “disturbing social order” and you get the opportunity to arrest pretty much anybody for pretty much anything. The thing about most of these laws is that they are relatively new. The concept of counter-revolutionary crimes was abolished in the nineties, to be replaced by big, baggy catch-all ordinances. Back in the old days this was forbidden and that was compulsory. These days, what was formerly forbidden might be doable, but is rarely exactly legal.
There’s been a general sense that this is a transitional part of a liberalisation process – unfortunate in itself, but a welcome step back from the days of full scale totalitarian control. I’m not so sure. It seems to me that the creation of strategic legal ambiguity has always been part of the programme and is an integral part of the government apparatus for social control. Even in economic reforms, policy has always outstripped law to the extent that nobody quite knows exactly where they stand, as explained in this essay by Chinese business analyst Wu Xiaobo:
During the several decades of reform and opening up, the establishment of national law seems to have always lagged behind the pace of change. At many times, there is even the sense that it is intentionally delayed and obscure. One particular example explains this problem quite well: beginning in 1978, whether private enterprises were able to employ more than eight people was a sensitive question, and by 1983, the central government's position was still the "three no's principle": "Do not encourage, do not openly promote, and do not be quick to ban."
And so it has continued. The incentives mandated by policy have always remained just that bit more appealing than the punishments mandated by law are off-putting, especially when the law is applied comparatively rarely. Cycle after cycle of Chinese entrepreneurs have come forward, been hailed as heroes of business, been charged with corruption, been jailed and occasionally shot. Wu Xiaobo again:
…what yesterday was a model of reform, might tomorrow be targeted in a sweep of illegal activity. In 1998, the State Council proposed using three years to revitalize state-owned enterprises, but it never brought up any applicable legal text for the details of administration - large numbers of small- and medium-sized enterprises completed the clarification of their property rights using methods of questionable legality. But when in 2001 this reform was suddenly halted, large, slower-acting companies were left in limbo. Businessmen falling from grace in the scandals that occurred afterward were tied in a large part to this affair.
But the next wave always come back for more – it’s a kind of entrepreneurial version of the Moscow show trials. And of course, it’s a self fulfilling prophecy. If business activities carry the risk of arrest, they’re going to attract people willing to take that risk, in other words people who will do anything to make money. It’s an excellent way of both generating and controlling - forcing, at times - an economic process of creative destruction.
So also with Hao Wu. There’s no specific law in China against filming illegal organizations. But the actions and procedures of the cops are considered state secrets, so filming illegality can, by a brief stretch of the secret police imagination, be made into grounds for suspicion of espionage.
I think the proposed law on emergency reporting in China falls into a similar category. The new law would effectively make it illegal to report breaking news that affected any official body in China without the explicit permission of that body. They’ve since rowed back a little on that, under pressure from local and foreign media. But my guess is that a law very like that proposed will pass, accompanied by administrative promises not to apply it much. The overall effect will be to add an extra layer to government control without choking off an industry it wishes to see developing.
Over on the internet, meanwhile, the competition between freedom of information and state censorship adopts the feel of a running battle. News of a “sensitive incident” pops up on a bulletin board, and is immediately copied and flashed across to thousands of others, closely followed by legions of official and unofficial internet cops frantically pressing delete buttons. Over here, a political forum is shut down. Over there, another political forum is tolerated and the liveliest contributors get e-mails asking if they want to join this new democratic grouping the writer is trying to start. Since everybody now knows that the authors are cops with entrapment on their minds, the e-mails are ignored – though the implicit warning is understood. And so a specific manifestation of freedom of speech is made integral to the success of a wider programme of political repression.
These are good times for the security apparat in China, much more fun, I bet, than under Mao. Back then it was a matter of ticking off whether everybody supported what they were supposed to support and opposed what they were supposed to oppose. Now the leash is off. Now the securicrats are free to consult and expand on the body of information control theory that has existed in Chinese political thought since the time of the Qin emperor. They can bring their imaginations to work. They can plan and strategize. They used to come to work in the spirit of accountants. Now they stroll the information jungle like top predators. The level of comparative freedom in China these days reflects the fact that top predators don't usually bother with rodents and other small prey - except, you know, when they feel like an hors d'ourve - and they take care not to eat all the zebras at once.
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