Tibetan
exiles attend a protest held to mark the 10th anniversary of a Tibetan
uprising against Chinese rule, in New Delhi, India, March 14, 2018.
Source: Reuters/Cathal McNaughton
IN one of the world’s most powerful countries, merely wanting to speak your own language can be risky.
After spending more than two years in detention, Tibetan activist Tashi
Wangchuk was recently sentenced to five years in prison. His crime, in
the eyes of China’s authorities: giving a video interview about the
eradication of the Tibetan language in schools and public places.
That was enough for him to be abducted, denied access to his family,
charged with inciting separatism and sentenced to years behind bars on
May 22, 2018.
Also languishing in state detention is Yu Wensheng, a human rights
lawyer who was snatched in January this year while walking his child to
school and held without access to his family or an attorney. Charged
with subversion, his offence was calling for constitutional reform and
open presidential elections.
These cases are just two among many that show how the Chinese state, as
its global power rises, is ruthlessly repressing dissenting voices at
home.
Last year saw a marked increase in the use of detention, show trials and
forced confessions, with human rights lawyers notably targeted. New
punishments were introduced in late 2017 for such broad offences as
disrespecting China’s flag, national anthem and emblem.
This fresh crackdown came as President Xi Jinping moved to consolidate his position at the helm of China’s global power.
In March this year, presidential term limits were removed, effectively
enabling Jinping to become president for life. The previous October, at
the Chinese Communist Party’s Congress, Jinping packed the party’s key
committee with his supporters, and had his political thought written
into the country’s constitution.
(File) Chinese President Xi Jinping (front row, center) and fellow
delegates raise their hands as they take a vote at the closing session
of the 19th National Congress of the Communist Party of China, in
Beijing, China October 24, 2017. Source: Reuters/Thomas Peter
In his triumphalist speech at the October congress, President Jinping
heralded a ‘new era’ of Chinese power in which China would be a global
economic and political leader. But it is a global power that rests on
domestic repression.
In the weeks before his speech, the authorities ensured there would be
no dissent: an estimated 14 activists were detained and two were
forcibly disappeared, while the mobile messaging service WhatsApp was
blocked.
The authorities continued to prevent people sharing their views online:
in November, Skype was removed from Chinese app stores, and ominously,
three months later, the government was reported to be building a
predictive policing programme that analyses huge amounts of online data
to flag people deemed as potentially subversive.
Little wonder then that despite its claims to global leadership, China
lurks at the bottom of many of the key global indicators that shed light
on the quality of life of Chinese citizens: China is ranked 176 out of
180 countries on the World Press Freedom Index and last on the Freedom
of the Net rankings, while it is classed as having closed space for
civil society, the worst category, by the CIVICUS Monitor, an online tool that tracks threats to civil society around the world.
Growing global power allows China’s government to resist pressure from
international institutions. When Nobel Peace Prize laureate Liu Xiaobo
died in a Chinese jail last July, he became only the third winner in the
prize’s 116-year history to die in captivity.
Prior to his death, the government was unmoved by a wave of
international pleas to release Liu on medical grounds. He had been
jailed for calling for an end to one-party rule. The last year also saw
conditions worsened for international civil society organisations (CSOs)
working in China. A new law was passed increasing government control of
international CSOs’ funding sources and activities, and another
expanding the government’s surveillance powers.
A police officer stands guard next to a chair prop, alluding to an empty
chair at late Liu Xiaobo’s Nobel Peace Prize awarding ceremony in 2010,
with an image of his wife Liu Xia, during a protest to urge for the
release of Liu Xia, outside the Chinese liaison office in Hong Kong,
China December 25, 2017. Source: Reuters/Tyrone Siu
With increasing confidence, the Chinese government extended its
repression beyond mainland citizens. Hong Kong’s special status was
belied by the continuing persecution of its pro-democracy activists and
removal of pro-democracy politicians from its legislative assembly.
Last year, the Chinese government said that the 20-year-old Hong Kong
handover agreement, supposed to guarantee key freedoms for the
territory, was “no longer relevant.” Meanwhile, Taiwanese democracy
activist Li Ming-che was jailed for the vaguely defined crime of
subverting state power.
With great global power should come great responsibility, but despite
some recent fine words about climate change, what these examples suggest
is that globally China remains a negative force against human rights.
As a permanent member of the United Nations (UN) Security Council and a
growing player in multilateral affairs, China has a responsibility to
uphold human rights, one of the pillars of the UN Charter. Yet it has
failed to play a positive role with regards to UN Security Council
action on chemical attacks in Syria, emboldening Russian authorities’
veto efforts to block investigation of the atrocities in Syria.
At the UN Human Rights Council, the Chinese footprint has focused more
on blocking rather than advancing progress on human rights. Last year,
China argued for cuts in funding to human rights posts. It also stood
silent in 2017 as its neighbour and close ally, the government of Burma,
committed unspeakable atrocities against its Rohingya minority.
While it fails to use its global power responsibly, the government of
China acts assertively in pursuit of its economic and political
interests. Its investments in infrastructure across Africa and beyond
are designed to lock countries into the Chinese model, of economic
growth without people’s participation in decision-making: development
that entrenches elite power rather than expands democracy and human
rights.
Its growing global role also means that China offers a source of
inspiration to other governments that seek to repress rights, and its
allies can be seen to borrow its tactics.
Chinese Premier Li Keqiang and Cambodia’s Prime Minister Hun Sen stand
as they hold bilateral talks in Phnom Penh, Cambodia January 11, 2018.
Source: Reuters/Samrang Pring
The Russian government detained numerous anti-corruption activists last
year, while in China’s staunch ally Pakistan, almost 300 cases of
enforced disappearances were reported between last August and October
alone.
In Cambodia, the main opposition party was dissolved and its leader
arrested on treason charges in the run-up to July 2018 elections,
effectively making the country a one-party state, while in Vietnam, at
least 25 online activists were estimated to have been detained in 2017.
China’s growing global power is therefore bad news not only for domestic
activists like Tashi Wangchuk, Yu Wensheng and many others, but also
for those experiencing repression in the many countries seeking to
emulate the China model. But it needn’t be this way.
China’s global power would gain legitimacy and credibility if it was
seen to use its economic relationships to leverage progress on key
international agreements, such as the Sustainable Development Goals.
Realistically, however, that could only happen if Chinese people had
more freedom to hold their government to account by being able to
exercise their civil and political rights.
Outside China, the response this suggests for those of us who stand for
democracy and human rights is to internationalise our efforts and
mobilise practical support for embattled activists. This is not easy. As
the Civicus 2018 State of Civil Society Report notes,
we often become preoccupied with fighting our own battles and
struggling to make our voices heard, and fail to see the bigger picture.
But we cannot afford the corollary of growing Chinese power to be the
denial of democracy and human rights. We need to encourage China to
match its growing global power with growing responsibility, and stand
alongside those who suffer when it fails to do so.
Andrew Firmin is Editor-in-Chief with global civil society alliance, Civicus.
** This is the personal opinion of the writer and does not reflect the views of Asian Correspondent
