Affichage des articles dont le libellé est personality cult. Afficher tous les articles
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est personality cult. Afficher tous les articles

vendredi 5 octobre 2018

Rogue Nation

Chinese Leaders Leverage Media To Shape How The World Perceives China
By ANTHONY KUHN


The front page of the Communist Party's flagship newspaper the People's Daily (center) and other papers are seen one day after the unveiling of the new Politburo Standing Committee in Beijing last year.

"A thousand newspapers with the same front page" is how the Chinese have for decades described the enforced uniformity of the country's state-controlled media.
Now, one face increasingly dominates those front pages. 
It belongs to Chinese dictator Xi Jinping, who has gone to extraordinary lengths to control the narrative about China.
"The party controls the media, and of course, that means it controls the message," says University of Hong Kong media expert David Bandurski
"And basically, Xi Jinping is the message."
That message has gotten mixed results. 
Often, it's what China says, not what it does, that makes the deepest impression. 
Nevertheless, it is a prime example of how shaping the world's perceptions of their country has climbed toward the top of the Chinese leadership's agenda.
The trend is evident, for example, at the China Daily, the country's top English-language newspaper, by circulation.
"Our motto used to be, 'Let China go out into the world; let the world understand China,' " says Bridget, a China Daily journalist. 
"Now it's: 'Report on China; influence the world.'"
Bridget is one of several of the paper's journalists who spoke on the condition that they be identified only by their English first names, because they weren't authorized to speak to foreign reporters.
Another, named Gary, explains that no matter what's going on, Xi is always at the top of the news.
In fact, he says, that's a rule at the government's mobile news app, which China Daily runs.
"News of Xi Jinping always comes first, and Li Keqiang always comes second," he says. 
"That's not to say that they make news every day. But even if they don't, their news stays in the top two positions."
Another journalist, Miranda, says news about Xi is edited with extreme caution.
"If we can possibly avoid using his name, we do," she says, "because an error in an article related to Xi would have very serious consequences."
For the past two decades, Xi's predecessors appeared as stiff and colorless apparatchiks, aloof from the common folk. 
By contrast, Xi has cultivated a more three-dimensional image — of a forceful, visionary leader, who is also a down-to-earth man of the people.
One minute, state media trumpet Xi's achievements in building China into an economic powerhouse. The next, they show him holding an umbrella for his wife, Peng Liyuan
Coverage goes into intimate detail about Xi's youth in the hardscrabble northwest of the country.
Some of Xi's earthy aphorisms have flooded social media and become popular mantras in Chinese society, such as: "We've gotta just roll up our sleeves and get down to work."
China Daily journalist Miranda says some of it seems to work on a domestic audience.
"The elder generation in my family and my classmates all have pictures of Xi and Peng on their walls," she observes.
But behind the celebrity-style coverage and crafting of Internet memes, Xi's use of the media has helped him to consolidate his political power to a degree not seen in China for decades.
Xi has "used social media accounts under his control to create a collective, subliminal message," argues independent analyst Wu Qiang.
The narrative conveyed through state media, Wu continues, presented the public with a fait accompli: that Xi had succeeded in erasing presidential term limits from the constitution, allowing him, in theory at least, to rule indefinitely. 
Censors then scrubbed any trace of opposition to Xi's move from the Internet.
The University of Hong Kong's Bandurski contends that the media's obsessive focus on Xi, meanwhile, is displacing or erasing other important news, contributing to an information vacuum about China, just when the world can least afford it.
But, Liu Xiaoying, a media scholar at Communication University of China in Beijing, argues that China needs to focus on a main character to tell its story effectively and that Xi is that character.
China began taking its image-building very seriously well before Xi became president. 
Liu traces it back to the 2008 Beijing Olympics.
He says that many Chinese felt that foreign media criticism of their pollution and human rights record spoiled their moment in the world spotlight.
"We felt our ability to transmit our views was inadequate," Liu explains. "We were unable to speak up."
Since then, China has poured billions of dollars into its state-run media, hiring journalists and public relations firms.
For example, the official Xinhua News Agency expanded its overseas bureaus from 100 a decade ago to about 180 as of 2015.
State broadcaster China Radio International, meanwhile, has grown to include coverage in 61 languages and puts out 2,700 hours of programming a day, according to the CRI website.
The message to these audiences, says Bandurski, is that China's rise is a boon to all nations.
The state-run media portray the country as a provider of public services and solutions to global problems.
"This is all about China's position in the world, in a sense, China's rightful position in the world, a kind of return to centrality for China," Bandurski says. 
"And this is all tied up with this important foreign policy of the Belt and Road."
More than 70 countries have signed on to participate in Xi's signature policy, aimed at building infrastructure, ports and roads linking the world to China.
Of course, China is hardly alone in its focus on its leader and his policies.
Maria Repnikova, a media expert at Georgia State University, says Xi has a lot in common with other leaders, from Russia's Vladimir Putin to Turkey's Recep Tayyip Erdogan.
All of them, she says, use media to portray themselves as political strongmen and to put out nationalist and populist messages.
"There's kind of the highlight on the leader himself," Repnikova notes, "his style, his personality, humor, and the communication through various channels," including personal social media accounts.
This summer, though, Xi's messaging seemed to run into resistance. 
This became apparent when authorities temporarily pulled a triumphal-sounding documentary called Amazing China. 
The film credited Xi with transforming China into a global leader in technology.
But critics took to state media to blast the movie for exaggerating China's technical prowess, when in fact, they pointed out, China remains highly reliant on the United States for high-tech products.
Analyst Wu says such propaganda may have made Chinese officials overconfident that they could win a trade war against the U.S.
"China's leaders exaggerated the country's soft power so much so that they believed their own propaganda," he scoffs. 
"It took the trade war with the U.S. to poke a hole in their illusion."
Repnikova argues that China's story, and its example of high-speed economic growth, has found more receptive audiences in many developing countries.
"We should think about the broader picture, that many countries would still probably continue to see China as this strong global actor, and potential partner and investor," she says.
But Wu notes that China is having a harder time coming up with ideas that appeal to Western audiences.
That's partly because, Wu says, the Communist Party has publicly rejected universal values, which it argues don't fit China.
Xi "publicly opposes everything from civil society to freedom and democracy. That gives him very little room to express himself," he adds.
If China has alternatives to what the West considers universal values, it hasn't been clear about what they are. 
China's centuries of political and philosophical traditions might contain some answers, but Beijing hasn't bothered to revive or explain them.
Western governments, meanwhile, have recently become more vigilant of Chinese state media as extensions of Beijing's political influence.
The U.S. Justice Department last month ordered Xinhua and the China Global Television Network to register as foreign agents.

lundi 3 septembre 2018

How Beijing’s propaganda dents China’s image, rather than burnishes it

The inconsistencies in messaging confuse others about China’s intent, while the strict censorship and jingoistic tone invite questions about the government’s credibility, both at home and abroad
By Chauncey Jung

Posters of Chinese dictator Xi Jinping are plastered on a wall in Shanghai in March 2016. 

Anyone who follows Chinese state media coverage can see that Chinese propaganda is inconsistent. From the changing strategy on Xi Jinping’s image to its stance on patriotic films, Chinese propaganda does not follow a consistent guideline. 
Chinese officials seemingly decide in an arbitrary and random fashion how the nation is presented, both to a domestic audience and to the outside world.
The Chinese government’s public communication appears aimed only at meeting short-term goals. But contradictions arise without a coherent strategy. 
There have been occasions when Chinese propaganda has adversely affected the country’s image, or triggered reactions that were opposite to what the regime intended.
Without a clear, modern and consistent strategy, Chinese propaganda will only hurt the nation’s image.
Take for example the propaganda effort surrounding Xi. 
In his earlier public appearances, the Chinese president was portrayed as an amicable leader whom the people could easily relate to. 
In 2013, he showed up at a Beijing steamed bun shop to order food alongside ordinary Chinese. 
In 2014, Chinese propaganda officials created the term “Uncle Xi” (Xi Dada) and “Auntie Peng”, for first lady Peng Liyuan
In these early years, propaganda officials set the tone for Xi’s persona as a caring leader who is close to the people.
However, his image has changed dramatically. 
The propaganda apparatus today lionises Xi as a leader second in stature only to Mao Zedong
It has encouraged the growth of a personality cult surrounding “Xi Dada”, and named him the undisputed “core” leader of party and country. 
Out goes the personable uncle, and in comes the strongman leader.
Inevitably, censors are deployed to scrub out propaganda associated with Xi the caring leader, including articles on his visit to the steamed bun shop and interviews claiming he carried 100kg of wheat as a youngster.
Such inconsistencies – driven by a propaganda strategy that is increasingly at odds with the more educated and more globally aware Chinese population today – create significant problems in controlling and managing public opinion. 
Every time propaganda officials change their tune, people see the contradictions and question the regime’s credibility.
Xi’s changing personas, for example, have made people more aware that the government has turned more authoritarian in the past five years, and have became fodder for critics to signal their discontent. Thus, when the government amended the constitution earlier this year to abolish presidential term limits, thereby allowing Xi to potentially rule for life, Chinese internet users turned the propaganda term Xi Dada into memes in protest.
Instead of stabilising the regime, as intended, the propaganda campaign is undermining it.
The government’s propaganda effort aimed at a foreign audience is similarly flailing. 
Since Xi came to power in 2013, China has promoted its “Chinese dream” of national rejuvenation, built on the foundation of the “Four Self-confidences” (faith in its own system, path, theory and culture). 
This became the basis for its resistance to Western ideology, and its assertiveness, even aggression, towards perceived enemies.
Its goals were twofold: to show the world a unified, strong and modern China, and to showcase the confidence of the government by bashing countries with which it has disputes. 
But this strategy has backfired.
By allowing the production of such videos as the Seven Sins of India, published last year by New China TV, the official YouTube channel of Xinhua News Agency, at the height of China’s border stand-off with India, Beijing has only created a negative image of itself. 
By using racist and disrespectful language and tone in such blatant propaganda, the Chinese government showed its ignorance of the social conventions that bind the international community.
China’s propaganda strategy in its trade war with the US has also been a mess, with official statements alternately threatening a fight to the end with US hegemony and seeking cooperation to advance the global interest. 
This confuses others about China’s true intent.
Without a clear strategy, Chinese strategic intent seems equivocal and lacks focus. 
Recently, for example, China revelled in the release of Amazing China, a jingoistic documentary film celebrating the country’s achievements over the past five years. 
Yet now, to minimise the impact of the trade war, the regime even began to play down its “Made in China 2025” policy, a key plank for advancing the nation’s technological reach.
Unlike China’s tightly controlled internet, the free flow of information in other, more democratic, parts of the world means people can easily track Beijing’s inconsistencies, making its propaganda efforts futile in shaping international public opinion.
This only shows that Chinese officials have little understanding of how journalism works in countries with freedom of speech. 
They appear to assume that the world operates the way China does; they believe that deleting content and stopping journalists from publishing stories is a more effective way to support the regime’s actions than crafting a reasonable argument to convince and persuade critics.
China spends billions of dollars to ensure the country has a positive image. 
But unless it updates its style of public engagement, it will be extremely difficult for the country to achieve its goal of making the world see beyond the regime’s abuses of human rights, freedom of speech, and other undemocratic practices.
The problem is that China does not believe in constructive criticism. 
Rather, the regime bets on silencing and repressing those who are eager to speak.

mardi 29 mai 2018

Chinese Students Protest in America, Face Danger at Home

One mainlander’s story of resistance and risk.
BY QIU ZHONGSUN

I took one final look at the posters I had just taped to the bulletin board in a student lounge at the University of California, San Diego. 
Superimposed over the face of Xi Jinping were three simple words in red: Not My President
My own face had been concealed under a hoodie as I put the pictures up — and I’d waited, along with a friend, until late at night to make sure no one saw us.
I had to take these measures to protect my identity because for mainland Chinese like myself, the oppression we face at home follows us abroad. 
The Chinese Communist Party has learned how to project its regime of surveillance and coercion deep inside the borders of liberal democracies. 
Initiating a campaign of political resistance, even in a Western country, meant risking my safety and that of my family back in China.
Just a few days earlier, on Feb. 25, the National People’s Congress, China’s rubber-stamp legislative body, had announced a proposal to remove constitutional term limits on the presidency, which since the 1980s had been limited to two five-year terms. 
Chinese presidents aren’t elected, but the selection process, ever since reformer Deng Xiaoping, had been a matter of consensus among the top echelons of the party, deliberately limiting the strength of any one individual. 
After the proposal inevitably passed, it would smooth the course for Xi, chosen for the critical roles of both party chairman and president in 2012, to become president for life instead of quitting in 2022.
News of the proposal swept China’s social media, and posts expressing frustration, shock, and helplessness flooded online platforms — but only for a few short hours. 
Then, all the discussion was deleted as the myriad censors who now police the Chinese internet kicked into high gear.
That was when I and two of my friends finally decided to act. 
As mainland Chinese studying and living in Western countries, we’ve been watching with dismay from afar as Xi has cracked down on human rights activists, nullified Hong Kong’s democratic promises, and revived a personality cult that reminds some Chinese of what China experienced under former leader Mao Zedong
Xi’s power grab was the last straw. 
We were raised to embrace the Communist Party, but now we felt it was time for those of us who live overseas to speak up for those silenced at home.
So we decided to start a Twitter campaign called #NotMyPresident and encourage like-minded Chinese students at universities around the world to print out our posters and put them up on their campuses. 
Within a month, Chinese students at more than 30 schools around the world had joined us, including at Cornell University, London School of Economics, University of Sydney, and the University of Hong Kong, expressing their disapproval for a Chinese president for life. 
After Foreign Policy’s initial coverage, Western media outlets such as the New York Times and the BBC featured our campaign.
But we had to be extremely cautious in making our voices heard. 
Putting up posters is a common political activity on college campuses in democratic countries. 
But for Chinese studying at these same campuses, it is dangerous to publicly express opinions that go against the party line. 
We know that our career prospects back in China are likely to suffer if we are publicly known to have criticized the party; it will be more difficult for us to make connections, snag interviews, and receive job offers and promotions. 
Chinese authorities have also been known to harass the families of outspoken Chinese students abroad, to interrogate Chinese returnees, or, in extreme cases, even kidnap Chinese abroad
Cand force them back to China.

So we planned carefully and took steps to protect our identities. 
The first challenge was to set up secure communication among the organizers. 
We avoided discussing anything regarding the campaign on WeChat, the most popular instant messaging application in the Chinese-speaking world, because it is rigorously monitored by the Chinese government. 
That means that Chinese security officials may read WeChat messages sent between people who aren’t even in China.
But even with encrypted messaging applications backed by Facebook and other Western technology companies, we still used burner phones to sign up as we were afraid that eventually companies behind the service would hand over the control of the user data to Chinese authorities — just as Apple did in February, when it agreed to house all Chinese users’ data locally.
The consequences if our identities got out could be dire. 
Organizing a campaign that questions the fundamental legitimacy of China’s top leader is a punishable crime in China. 
Citing the designated charge of “inciting subversion of state power,” Chinese authorities can arrest and prosecute citizens who dare to disagree without due process — and that would include us, although the protest took place thousands of miles away from home.
As we publicized the campaign, we encouraged potential participants to put up the posters under cover of darkness and to wear masks in order to protect their own identities as well. 
We have learned from previous incidents that the Chinese community abroad is unlikely to support dissident speech — and that Chinese student groups effectively serve as watchdogs for the "motherland" on foreign campuses. 
Many Chinese students remember the Shuping Yang incident in May 2017. 
An undergraduate student at the University of Maryland, Yang criticized environmental problems in China and praised democratic values during her commencement speech. 
Her speech was recorded, put online, and went viral in China. 
Chinese state media labeled her speech as “anti-China,” and angry netizens dug up her parents’ address and posted it online. 
Throughout the incident, the Chinese Students and Scholars Association (CSSA) at the university did not provide any support to Yang. 
Rather, the CSSA denounced her speech as “intolerable” and questioned her real motives. 
Yang eventually posted an apology on Chinese social media. 
In 2008, a Duke University student named Grace Wang attempted to mediate between pro-Tibet and pro-Beijing student protesters and was subsequently attacked on the Chinese-language internet; she received violent threats, and her parents back in China went into hiding.
As more and more schools joined the campaign, our Twitter account started to garner attention — both wanted and unwanted. 
On the one hand, we tried to discourage students in mainland China from participating. 
With the help of deep learning and artificial intelligence, the government has put into place sweeping public surveillance technology.
We also faced a barrage of phishing attempts. 
Every day, we received dubious password reset requests in the inboxes of each campaign-related account: Twitter, Facebook, Gmail, even the Dropbox account we used to host our posters for download. 
Some of these were from unknown parties, claiming that our Twitter account was blocked and inviting us to click on the “unlock” button. 
Other, more subtle attempts would appear as emails from potential campaign participants — but instead of sending a picture of the posters they put up on campus, as we requested from all our participants, a suspicious link was included.
Despite the risks that every participant faced, the support we received greatly exceeded our expectation. 
One participant at the University of California, Irvine sent a moving message: “I struggled for a while about whether to put those posters up because I was worried that I might get caught by someone who disagrees with my action. Yet, Martin Luther King Jr. once said, ‘Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.’ So I decided to take the risks because what Xi did is absolutely wrong, and people are being silent for too long. I hope this can make a difference and pray that things will get better.”
When we put up posters at UC San Diego on that cold early spring night, we hoped it would be a small rebellion, a personal farewell to the ideology of party supremacy we were raised to believe. 
It turns out we are not alone.

vendredi 28 octobre 2016

An Exiled Editor Traces the Roots of Democratic Thought in China

Xi Jinping wants to revive the personality cult and dictatorship of that era, so he’s particularly unwilling for people to reflect on the Cultural Revolution.
By LUO SILING

Hu Ping, seated, speaking at Peking University in 1980. He rejects the idea that democracy is a foreign concept in China and therefore inappropriate.

Hu Ping is the editor of the pro-democracy journal Beijing Spring, based in New York. 
But in 1975, he was 28 and living in the southwestern Chinese city of Chengdu, a recently returned “educated youth” who had been sent down to labor in the countryside during the Cultural Revolution.
While waiting to be assigned to a new workplace, he wrote an essay that would become a classic of modern Chinese liberalism. 
The essay, “On Freedom of Speech,” could at first be circulated only through handwritten posters on the city’s streets. 
In 1979 it appeared in the underground magazine Fertile Soil, and it went on to influence a generation of democracy advocates.
Mr. Hu was admitted to Peking University in 1978 and in 1980 was elected as a delegate to the local people’s congress. 
In 1987, he began doctoral studies at Harvard, then moved to New York a year later to serve as chairman of an organization supporting China’s burgeoning democracy movement. 
The Chinese government canceled his passport, consigning him to exile.
In his new book — “Why Did Mao Zedong Launch the Cultural Revolution?,” published in Taiwan by Asian Culture — Mr. Hu argues that contemporary Chinese concepts of democracy and freedom are not imports from the West, but a response to political oppression at home and a growing appreciation of the need for restraints on state power. 
In an interview, Mr. Hu discussed how the Cultural Revolution shaped his thinking, the unexpected course of Xi Jinping’s career and why he rejects assertions that democracy is a foreign concept and therefore inappropriate for China.

How did the Cultural Revolution shape your political thinking?

My generation was imbued with official ideology from childhood. 
As a supporter of communist theory and the communist system, I enthusiastically participated in the Cultural Revolution at first. 
But I became very disillusioned by the extreme brutality that emerged during the movement, especially because the vast majority of victims were targeted merely for expressing alternative views. I myself was denounced more than once because I had different views stemming from my disgust at the persecution of people for speech crimes. 
This led me to gradually form a concept of freedom of expression.
Later I went to the United States and read Harvard Prof. Judith N. Shklar’s essay “The Liberalism of Fear.” 
Professor Sklar pointed out that modern Western liberalism arose from a revulsion against religious and political persecution and led to an insistence on protecting human rights and limiting political power.

“Why Did Mao Zedong Launch the Cultural Revolution?”

The Chinese rediscovery of liberalism was based on a very similar experience. 
The Cultural Revolution gave rise to a widespread and deep-seated horror that led a few people to formulate an explicit concept of freedom and gave the majority the desire and basis to accept this concept. 
Even quite a few Communist leaders developed an appreciation for freedom because of their personal suffering.

For example?
One example is Xi Jinping’s father, Xi Zhongxun, who was purged in a literary inquisition in the 1960s but re-emerged after Mao died [in 1976]. 
While serving as vice chairman of the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress, Xi Zhongxun proposed drafting a “law protecting alternative views.” 
He said the history of the Chinese Communist Party demonstrated the disastrous consequences of suppressing dissident opinions.
The prevailing view at that time was that it was wrong to treat “opposing the party and opposing socialism” as a crime because there was no clear standard for what constituted opposition, and any alternative political viewpoint should be tolerated. 
Xi Zhongxun probably had never read John Locke, John Stuart Mill, Isaiah Berlin or Friedrich Hayek
His concept of tolerance and freedom arose mainly from personal experience, especially the horrors of Mao’s Cultural Revolution, and his reflections on that experience.

How would you compare the liberalism of the 1980s with political thought after the suppression of the 1989 Tiananmen movement?
The failure of the 1989 democracy movement made ordinary people negative or indifferent toward politics, and cynicism ran wild. 
This created a strange phenomenon: The concept of liberalism spread much wider than before 1989 but carried far less power. 
In the years since 1989, although there have been quite a few liberal scholars, dissidents and rights defense lawyers making heroic efforts to practice and promote the concept of freedom — beginning with the concept of freedom of speech — harsh political suppression and an indifferent social climate have prevented a breakthrough and made it very difficult to build up the kind of social mobilization that existed in the 1980s.

Hu Ping, the editor of Beijing Spring, in New York in 2013. “I enthusiastically participated in the Cultural Revolution at first,” he said. “But I became very disillusioned by the extreme brutality that emerged during the movement.” 

With political reform now stalled or even in retreat, some people in China are worried about a recurrence of the Cultural Revolution. Why has Xi Jingping declined to follow the example of his father in promoting democratic change and instead concentrated power even further?
The Cultural Revolution in its strictest sense can never occur again. 
The fact that people are worried about its recurrence reflects how Xi Jinping has strengthened dictatorial rule, suppressed civil society and tightened controls over expression. 
In the past, many people thought that Xi Jinping might have inherited his father’s open-mindedness, little imagining that once he took power, his manner and actions would make him more like Mao’s grandson than Xi Zhongxun’s son. 
Xi Zhongxun proposed drafting a “law to protect alternative views,” whereas Xi Jinping has banned “improper discussion” [of central party policies].
Many people once believed that economic development and the growth of a middle class in China would be accompanied by progress in human rights. 
But by the logic of the Chinese government, economic development was built on the suppression of human rights, so how can it now abandon this suppression?
In other words, the Chinese government thinks: “We’ve only done so well because we’ve been so bad. If we hadn’t been so bad, things wouldn’t be so good.”

Your generation’s experience of the Cultural Revolution fostered the emergence of politically liberal ideas in China. Could remembrance of the Cultural Revolution contribute to the development of liberalism and political change today?
A sensitive topic such as the Cultural Revolution should become less sensitive with the passage of time, and the authorities should be expected to gradually relax restrictions on discussion of the Cultural Revolution. 
But the reality is just the opposite: The authorities are controlling discussion of the Cultural Revolution even more harshly than they did 10 or 20 years ago. 
Xi Jinping wants to revive the personality cult and dictatorship of that era, so he’s particularly unwilling for people to reflect on the Cultural Revolution.
Half a century has passed since the Cultural Revolution was set in motion, and the “young militants” of that time are entering their twilight years. 
As the authorities continue to suppress discussion of the Cultural Revolution, the average person, especially the young, has only the vaguest impression of that time. 
Throw in the events and changes China has experienced in recent decades, and the collective experience of the Cultural Revolution has become less of a force for promoting China’s liberalization. 
Even so, we have to keep at it.
It is a lack of freedom that allows us to understand what freedom is. 
It is in ourselves that we discover why people have been willing to risk so much for freedom. 
Taking a further step toward joint action, we discover that we are not alone and that our voices can resonate far and wide. 
We don’t start out believing that an unseen force guarantees freedom’s victory, but we fight for it all the same.