Chinese Satellite

Vietnam’s Communist Party Ousts Historian Who Criticized Its China Policy

By Mike Ives

The historian Tran Duc Anh Son said that Vietnam has irrefutable claims to islands in the South China Sea that China claims as its own.

A prominent Vietnamese historian who criticized his government for not doing more to challenge Beijing’s territorial claims in the South China Sea has been ousted from Vietnam’s ruling Communist Party over comments he made on Facebook.
The political purge of Tran Duc Anh Son, an expert on Vietnam’s claims in the South China Sea, is a rare window into how the party handles dissent among its rank-and-file members.
It may also underline the sensitivities around Vietnam’s handling of its relationship with China, its largest trading partner and former imperial occupier.
Vietnam’s state-run news media reported last week that Dr. Son, who is in his early 50s and worked for years at a state-run research institute in the central city of Danang, was expelled for posting "false" information and violating a code that governs party members’ behavior.
“I knew this day would come,” Dr. Son said in an interview over a messaging service.
He closed his Facebook account this week, saying he needed more time to work on book projects and transition to a new job as the director of a publishing house.
Dr. Son said the Facebook comment that got him in the most trouble was a short question he posed last September under a cartoon that obliquely criticized the government.
A character in the cartoon said: “Seventy-three years ago they corralled people to a rally to listen to the Declaration of Independence. Seventy-three years later they forbid people to gather to celebrate Independence Day.”
That was an apparent reference to a famous 1945 speech by Ho Chi Minh in which the Vietnamese dictator declared his country’s independence from France, and an oblique criticism of the Communist Party’s current leaders, who have escalated repression of political dissidents.
Dr. Son said the question he wrote underneath the cartoon — “Is this true?” — prompted a monthslong investigation by Danang’s Communist Party Central Committee.
He said he was also investigated for a Facebook comment — “How have things become this bad?” — that he left under a post featuring two articles in the state-run news media about the country’s education minister.
Even though many Vietnamese have low opinions of the Communist Party, its members generally avoid criticizing it for fear of repercussions that would affect their livelihoods, said Mai Thanh Son, a senior researcher at the state-affiliated Institute of Social Sciences in central Vietnam.
“The expulsion of Tran Duc Anh Son is a thoughtless decision,” he said.
“It’s like releasing a tiger into the forest, and it contributes to stripping away the cowardly face of the ruling apparatus that the party represents.”
In January, a cybersecurity law took effect in Vietnam that requires technology companies with users there to set up offices and store data in the country, and disclose user data to the authorities without a court order.
Vietnam’s new cybersecurity law was meant to let the government better surveil its critics on Facebook, the country’s most popular social media platform.
Facebook declined to comment on the record about Dr. Son’s account.
The Foreign Ministry did not respond to emailed questions about Dr. Son’s expulsion from the party, including whether his criticism of Vietnam’s South China Sea policies had played a role.
Vietnam has clashed repeatedly at sea with China, which claims most of the waterway as its own. Notably, in 2014 a state-owned Chinese oil company towed an oil rig to waters near Danang, provoking a tense maritime standoff and anti-Chinese riots at several Vietnamese industrial parks. The Communist Party fears a repeat of such anti-China-fueled Vietnamese nationalism, because critics question why the government does not take a harder line against Beijing.
Chinese officials and scholars seek to justify Beijing’s claim to sovereignty over South China Sea waters that encircle the disputed Paracel and Spratly archipelagos by citing maps and other evidence from the 1940s and ’50s.
But Dr. Son and other Vietnamese historians argue that the Nguyen dynasty, which ruled present-day Vietnam from 1802 to 1945, wielded clear administrative control over the Paracels, decades before post-revolutionary China showed any interest in them.
Dr. Son is a former director of a fine arts museum in Hue, Vietnam’s imperial capital, and a specialist in Nguyen-era porcelain.
He developed an interest in Vietnam’s territorial claims as a student poking around archives of old maps and documents.
In 2009, officials in Danang asked him to pursue his research on Vietnam’s maritime claims on the government’s behalf.
He subsequently spent years traveling the world in search of material, including as a Fulbright scholar at Yale University.
Dr. Son has said the historical evidence of Vietnam’s maritime claims is so irrefutable that the government should mount a legal challenge to China’s activities in waters around some of the sea’s disputed islands, as the Philippines successfully did in a case that ended in 2016.
“I’m always against the Chinese,” he told The New York Times during an interview in 2017.
But he said at the time that Vietnam’s top leaders were “slaves” to Beijing who preferred to keep the old maps and other documents hidden.
“They always say to me, ‘Mr. Son, please keep calm,’” he said.
“‘Don’t talk badly about China.’”
The city of Danang, where Dr. Son lives and works, once had a reputation for its powerful, family-based networks that were willing to ignore dictates from the central government, said Bill Hayton, an author of books about Vietnam and the South China Sea and an associate fellow at Chatham House, a research institute based in London.
But Mr. Hayton noted that Vietnam’s current leadership, led by the Communist Party’s general secretary, Nguyen Phu Trong, has lately disciplined some key Danang political figures, including firing Nguyen Xuan Anh, the head of the city’s Communist Party Central Committee.
Even though Danang officials presumably supported and financed Dr. Son’s research, he added, “the current Vietnamese leadership does not want to rock the boat with Beijing and seems determined to keep a lid on criticism of China’s actions in the South China Sea.”

New world of Chinese palace intrigue

Battles once waged behind closed doors now play out in public 
By Gabriel Wildau in Shanghai

When he is not tweeting lurid corruption allegations against top Communist party officials and their relatives, exiled Chinese property tycoon Guo Wengui likes sharing photos of himself lifting weights in his Fifth Avenue penthouse.
Mr Guo is the subject of an Interpol “red notice” issued at Beijing’s request, but he appears to be living the life of a Kardashian, posing on yachts and joining Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago golf resort in Palm Beach.
This is the new world of Chinese palace intrigue.
Factional struggles once waged behind closed doors now increasingly play out in public and online, with rival factions apparently using news media and surrogates like Mr Guo as proxies.
And with a political changeover expected later this year, it seems likely that more and more scandals will play out in this way.
Xi Jinping is certain to be chosen for another term as party secretary, but he is also seeking to install loyalists on the elite Politburo Standing Committee in order to consolidate his power.
His adversaries want the same for themselves.
Both sides are honing a strategy first practised during the last Communist party leadership transition five years ago, when the downfall of populist rising star Bo Xilai made clear how media leaks can be a powerful tool for discrediting political opponents.
The use of proxies also enables plausible deniability in case opponents cannot be toppled.
This latest battle appears to pit the leaders of Xi’s ferocious anti-corruption drive against those who see it as a thinly disguised political purge.
Xi pledged that his anti-corruption campaign would target both “tigers and flies”.
China’s runaway TV hit this year is In the Name of the People, the story of a dogged prosecutor who unravels corruption stretching from a small city to the halls of power in Beijing.
In the show, the prosecutor proceeds from bottom to top, netting low-level flies who eventually lead him to a tiger.
Yet critics of Xi’s campaign argue that real-life corruption investigations proceed in the opposite direction: investigators first set their sights on a tiger, then squeeze his loyalist flies until they produce evidence against him.
Mr Guo is challenging the core legitimacy of the anti-corruption campaign by training his fire on Wang Qishan, who heads the party’s anti-graft agency and is widely viewed as the second-most powerful man in China.
Weakening Mr Wang’s standing could affect this year’s leadership transition — by making it difficult for him to secure a second five-year term on the Politburo Standing Committee.
Beyond Mr Guo, a series of other public allegations and arrests have rocked Chinese high finance. These include the abduction of billionaire financier Xiao Jianhua from the Four Seasons Hotel in Hong Kong by Chinese security agents and the detention of Xiang Junbo, former head of China’s insurance regulator, on allegations of corruption.
Anbang, a swashbuckling insurance conglomerate that owns the Waldorf Astoria, was also widely assumed to have allies in the upper echelons of the Communist party.
So when Caixin, the country’s leading independent news website, published a lengthy investigative report last month alleging financial deception by Anbang, it was seen as a possible political salvo. Anbang has denied the allegations and stated its intention to sue Caixin and its chief editor, Hu Shuli. Yet many saw the decision by Ms Hu, one of China’s best-connected journalists, to publish the article as a sign that the political winds had shifted against Anbang.
Days after the article was published, China’s insurance regulator slapped Anbang with a three-month ban on selling new products.
In a strongly worded statement, the regulator accused the insurer of “wreaking havoc” in the market. Chinese elite politics have always been cut-throat, but rarely have outside observers been able to see the long knives glinting.

China torturing suspects in political purge against members of rival factions

Opaque extralegal detention system used by officials to hold suspects indefinitely until they confess
By Benjamin Haas in Hong Kong

Regular beatings, sleep deprivation, stress positions and solitary confinement are among the tools used by China’s anti-corruption watchdog to force confessions, according to a report by Human Rights Watch.
The report throws the spotlight on to Xi Jinping’s "war on corruption", which has punished more than a million Communist party officials since 2013. 

Xi has said fighting corruption is “a matter of life and death” but experts characterise the campaign as a political purge against members of rival factions.
The opaque extralegal detention system is used by "anti-corruption" officials to hold suspects indefinitely until they confess. 

At least 11 have died while in the custody of the country’s widely feared Commission for Discipline Inspection.
“Xi has built his 'anti-corruption campaign' on an abusive and illegal detention system,” said Sophie Richardson, China director at Human Rights Watch.
“Torturing suspects to confess won’t bring an end to corruption but will end any confidence in China’s judicial system.”
All of China’s 88 million Communist party members can be subject to detention or shuanggui, which in Chinese means to report at a designated time and place, where suspects are held incommunicado and often in padded, windowless rooms.
“If you sit, you have to sit for 12 hours straight; if you stand, then you have to stand for 12 hours as well. My legs became swollen and my buttocks were raw and started oozing pus,” a former detainee is quoted as saying in the report. 

Names were withheld for fear of government reprisals.
Others have described detention simply as a “living hell”. 

It is extremely rare for those who have been through the system to speak openly.
In one account a detainee was kept awake for 23 hours a day, forced to stand the entire time and balance a book on his head, one lawyer said. 

After eight days he confessed “to whatever they said” and was then allowed to sleep for two hours a day.
While Xi champions his "anti-corruption" drive, he has also advocated enhancing China’s “rule of law”, but activists say the two concepts are completely at odds when suspects are tortured and forced to confess.
Although the "anti-corruption" campaign is technically separate from China’s judicial system, Human Rights Watch documented cases where prosecutors worked alongside corruption investigators, using the shuanggui system to gather evidence. 

After the extralegal detention, cases are usually transferred to the courts, where there is a 99.92% conviction rate.

“In shuanggui corruption cases the courts function as rubber stamps, lending credibility to an utterly illegal Communist party process,” Richardson said. 

“Shuanggui not only further undermines China’s judiciary – it makes a mockery of it.”
Those sentiments have been echoed by western governments as Xi has ramped up his "anti-corruption" push and use of the system has skyrocketed.
Shuanggui “operates without legal oversight” and suspects are “in some cases tortured”, the US State Department wrote in its annual human rights report on China. 

Some confessions extracted in detention were eventually overturned by courts, the US government report said.
Government officials are the majority of suspects disappeared into the system, but bankers, university administrators, entertainment industry figures and any other Communist party member can be detained.
Human Rights Watch called for shuanggui to be abolished, adding that successfully fighting corruption required “robust protections for the rights of suspects”.
“Eradicating corruption won’t be possible so long as the shuanggui system exists,” Richardson said. “Every day this system threatens the lives of party members and underscores the abuses inherent in Xi’s anti-corruption campaign.”