Newsweek (12/17/79) published this article by Susan Drake with Barry Came from Hongkong: "The hand-lettered poster was aptly entitled 'a few last words.' Signed by 'one who passionately loves his country,' it was attributed to a student who wanted 'for the first and last time' to see the 200-yard stretch of brick and mortar in central Peking known as Democracy Wall. For the few dozen onlookers elbowing each other for a glimpse, its message was particularly poignant. 'There are some who think Democracy Wall is something they can bestow on the people and then take it back,' the poster read. Last week, the government of the People's Republic of China did just that: it took Democracy Wall back.
"In a poster of its own, Peking's Revolutionary Committee announced last week that public messages may now only be displayed in Yuetan Park, an ironfenced garden in a quiet residential neighborhood in western Peking. Besides being far more inaccessible, the new wall will be considerably less democratic: all future wall poster authors must register in advance with Chinese (Communist) officials.
"The government's action was not entirely unexpected. Communist Party newspapers have been conducting a vigorous campaign against the wall for many months. Last week, Peking's dailies gave front-page coverage to a 'secret session' of municipal authorities in which they decided that the poster-strewn wall was 'interfering with the four modernizations and should be dealt with.' Banner headlines calling for a crackdown were a sure sign of the attitude of (Red) China's top leaders. Letters to the editor and stories quoting steelworkers and carpenters purported to show mass support for the shutdown.
"The closing of Democracy Wall stirred speculation that (Red) China's flirtation with the concept of an open society may be coming to an end. Confronted with rising crime and civil disobedience, the government appears determined to pull every platform out from under its most boisterous critics. At least 40 people have been booked on charges of counter-revolutionary activity since March. In October, Wei Jingsheng, (mainland) China's best-known human-rights activist, was sentenced in a show trial to fifteen years in prison. Though Chinese (Communist) judges and juries will begin operating under a new Western-style penal code in January, party leaders and the press are urging them to punish all aberrant behavior severely. Last week, the Peking Daily called on the courts to continue handing down harsh sentences despite the risk of 'inevitable errors.'
"Many observers thought Deputy Premier Deng Xiaoping was courting trouble a year ago when he casually remarked, 'If the masses feel anger, we must let them express it.' The government obviously was not expecting — or prepared for — the proliferation of posters that followed. In March, it restricted them to two blocks of a grimy wall lining a parking lot on the Avenue of Eternal Peace, Peking's main street. Almost overnight, the wall became a catalyst for controversy. Shoppers, tourists, protesters from the provinces and foreign journalists gathered daily to post or ponder the dazibo — the large-character signs traditionally used in China to air grievances and advance causes. Some of the protests documented the problems of hungry peasants and abused prisoners and have attacked official corruption. A number offered distinctly unflattering portraits of high-ranking party leaders.
"Noting the flood of news stories the posters generated, one local leader contended that Democracy Wall had become a magnet for 'foreigners who seek intelligence that jeopardizes the fundamental interests of the (mainland) Chinese people.' The government maintained last week that by closing the wall it was actually 'protecting the peoples' democratic rights.' It may reason that Westerners will be less likely to make a media mecca of the remote Yuetan Park. But many (mainland) Chinese will also shy away from the new site if they are required to sign in with the government first. 'I don't like the idea of registering,' said Xu Wenli, an editor of the unofficial journal April 5 Forum. 'It will frighten away some of the common people who would otherwise express themselves.'
"Peking has promised not to censor the posters before they appear. Bu t last week's announcement also served notice that wall-poster writers will be forbidden to 'reveal state secrets, fabricate information, make false charges, indulge in libel or conduct any other activities that violate the law.' That official litany of sins is bound to curb candor.
"The decision to close Democracy Wall has met with little visible resistance. Some dissidents say they are waiting to see how carefully the government monitors the new site. (Mainland) Chinese who genuinely fear anarchy seem resigned to a return to the old authoritarian ways. But many China watchers wonder how the modernization programs can go forward in a shackled society. As Hong Kong's independent Chinese daily, Ming Pao, put it last week: 'What good will it serve the four modernizations if people pay lip service to Marx, Lenin and Mao while their minds are filled with four letter words? '" (Full text)
Time — Crime wave
Time (12/10/79) published this article: "For years (Red) China has cultivated an image of itself as a peace-loving society that had eradicated much of the violent crime plaguing the decadent capitalist West. No longer. In recent weeks Chinese (Communist) newspapers and radio broadcasts have been so filled with detailed reports about pickpockets, street muggers and rapists that the country appears to be in the midst of a nationwide crime wave.
"The problem seems particularly serious in Shanghai, where twelve platoons of army troops have been sent out to ensure safety on the streets. Still, Liberation Daily reports that young girls are afraid to venture out of their homes to attend classes at night, and that 'some criminals have been publicly blocking roads, committing robberies, murders, rapes, and thefts of both public and private property.' Several weeks ago, at a rally of 3,000 people in a city gymnasium, six hooligans were sentenced to terms of eight to 13 years for street muggings, burglaries and harassing women.
"Similar stories of crime are coming from other cities. In Tianjin (Tientsin), the local press last month reported on 'criminal elements who provoke fights, rob pedestrians and humiliate and insult women in broad daylight.' In Peking, there have been reports of small bands of young men who lie in wait in dark alleys to rob passers-by. In Hangzhou (Hangchow) last month, two brothers were sentenced to death — and one of them immediately executed — for having raped 106 women over the past five years.
In the southern district of Shaoguan (Shaokuan), nine teen-agers were seized after assaulting a woman at an evening film show; their leader was sentenced to life imprisonment at a public rally of some 5,000 people. The problem, claimed the local Southern Daily, was that the nine teen-agers 'lacked ideals and yearned for a bourgeois style of life. Starting by learning how to smoke and gamble, they passed on to theft and hooliganism and degenerated into criminals against the people.'
"In accordance with (Red) China's usually stem practice, sentences have been tough. At least five people have been executed in the past month for crimes ranging from embezzlement to murder. Even in cases involving juvenile offenders, the courts show little leniency. Rejecting arguments that teen-age criminals should be forgiven for their mistakes, the Tianjin Daily sternly warned: 'All criminals must be punished according to the laws.'
"One reason for this tough attitude is that most of the crime is apparently being committed by youths. The Chinese (Communist) press routinely blames the pernicious influence of Mao's widow Jiang Qing (Chiang Ch'ing) and her deposed Gang of Four. In fact, one principal cause is unemployment, particularly among millions of middle-school graduates who turn to street crime or black marketeering to get some sorely needed cash.
"Despite all the lurid stories, (Red) China's crime rate is probably lower than that in most Western nations. Some observers suspect that the new campaign against crime is part of a broader movement that also includes the recent crackdown on (mainland) China's tiny dissident movement. Last week Vice Premier Deng Xiaoping, talking to a delegation from the Encyclopedia Britannica, defended the stiff 15-year sentence meted out six weeks ago to Human Rights Activist Wei Jingsheng on the ground that 'we needed to make an example of him.' At the same time, the centerpiece of the human rights movement, Peking's famed 'democracy wall,' came under official attack, Meeting in Peking, members of (Red) China's National People's Congress demanded that 'resolute measures' be taken to curb activity at the wall, which, they charge, is being exploited as a platform for a tiny number of people to foment disturbances' and to 'plunge the nation into chaos. ' Some observers fear that that charge could signal a campaign to put new restrictions on democracy wall, the only place in (mainland) China where free expression is genuinely tolerated." (Full text)
Houston Chronicle — No room for law
The Houston Chronicle (12/1/79) published this article by Charles Maher from Los Angeles:
"They haven't killed all the lawyers in the People's Republic of China, but they've done what probably would strike Dick the Butcher as the next best thing: They've killed the profession instead.
"And so far as Melvin Belli can tell, no one misses it.
"Belli spent several weeks in (mainland) China this year and, having been a trial lawyer going on 50 years, made a point of looking into the country's curious legal system.
"'There are no private lawyers in (Red) China,' Belli said. 'I talked to the dean of the law school in Peking — the only law school in the country — and he told me, "We're not going to have the private institution of lawyers. They are the enemy of the people."'
"Actually, (Red) China has not run out of lawyers entirely. Belli said there are perhaps 200 of them (compared with more than 70,000 in California). Most are judges or the equivalent of district attorneys. But the judges play no part in the typical legal dispute.
"If a factory worker rode his bicycle recklessly and caused serious injury to a fellow worker, Belli said, there would be a trial of sorts before a committee from the factory.
"'The committee would decide whether the man would go to jail or pay a fine or make restitution or whatever: Belli said. 'Money would be taken out of his wages. Everybody gets wages.'
"A similar procedure would be followed, Belli said, in a breach-of-contract action, a divorce proceeding or a criminal case. A workers' committee would hear and decide the matter.
"Public trials of the sort common in the United States are rare in (Red) China, Belli said. They seem to be used primarily 'for show,' he said, to make an example of someone or perhaps to discourage a particular type of illegal activity.
"Belli sat in one part of such a trial. The defendant was charged with theft.
"'It was something like a Democratic Central Committee meeting,' he said. 'A little disorganized. There were three "judges." One would speak to one part of the audience while another would speak to another. We didn't stay for all of it but at the end of the case, we were told, the audience was asked whether they felt the guy was guilty and, if so, what the sentence should be.'
"Instead of robes, the judges wore military uniforms. One judge had legal training. The other two were factory people.
"Before the revolution, Belli said, (mainland) China had many lawyers, well organized bar associations and other trappings of a Western-style legal system.
"'The lawyers were the first to go after the revolution,' he said. 'Why? Because the lawyer was the glue that held the old establishment together, made it work. If you didn't have lawyers in our country, the Constitution wouldn't self-execute.'
"And what happened to all the lawyers?
"They went out to the factories, the fields, the pig pens,' Belli said. 'That's what happens to your professors and artists. The cultural revolution took all the cultured people and put them to work so they could learn the rudiments of society. So the guy working next to you in a turnip patch could have been a university dean.'" (Partial text)
Far Eastern Review — Kaohsiung riot
The Far Eastern Economic Review (12/28/79) published this article by Phil Kurata from Taipei: "On the evening of December 10, the most violent riot in Taiwan's recent history exploded in the southern industrial and port city of Kaohsiung, with 183 government security personnel injured, some seriously. There were no reports of injuries to rioters.
"One month before the riot, opposition politicians and activists, mostly of Taiwanese origin, who were connected with Formosa, an outspoken monthly political magazine, requested permission to hold an evening torchlight rally and parade in celebration of World Human Rights Day, December 10. Security personnel withheld approval on the grounds that the expected crowd of 30,000 would menace public order and that a magazine did not have any business organizing public demonstrations.
"The Formosa organizers, emboldened by recent successes in staging with or without approval immensely popular non-Kuomintang (KMT) public meetings and rallies, were intent on following through with their plans to organize what they thought would be the biggest show of mass support to date. They had come to perceive the KMT government as vulnerable, no longer able to stifle expressions of discontent. The incident was timed to embarrass the government, occupied that week with the fourth plenary session of the KMT's 11th Central Committee.
"By 6 p.m. on December 10, a crowd of 500-600 had gathered outside the local Formosa office as speakers in sound trucks criticized the government for (among other things) alleged beatings the previous day and vowed to go through with the rally and march regardless.
"At 6:05 p.m. Huang Hsin-chieh, a Taiwanese member of parliament and publisher of Formosa, arrived at the Kaohsiung railway station where he was met by the head of the southern Taiwan Garrison Command. Huang was informed that permission had been granted to stage a rally in front of the Formosa office, but not a parade. Huang agreed to the terms. Fearing violence from demonstrators who had prepared torches, clubs, iron bars and 'chemicals,' the commander extracted from Huang a promise to keep the event peaceful.
"At 8:40 p.m. after heated oratory to a crowd now numbering thousands, Shih Ming-teh, general manager of Formosa mounted a sound truck which pulled away from the rally into the street and was accompanied by 40-50 youths brandishing lighted torches, clubs and iron bars.
"As the march got under way, Shih exhorted bystanders to join in. A few hundred meters away, military police, on strict orders not to fight back, stood arrayed across the road, blocking the marchers' path. The marchers bashed through the human barricade and continued on their way. Meanwhile, the mob outside the Formosa office attacked the nearby security forces and assaulted a nearby police station, reportedly injuring 63. The violence raged until past midnight, when riot squads spraying teargas were able to force the mob to disperse.
"The government handled the evening with forbearance and finesse. It avoided loss of life and managed to turn what Formosa hoped would be an embarrassing incident into a magnificent public relations coup. Public reaction to the one-sided violence galvanized into overwhelming sympathy and support for the government...
"The attack on the police meant the government had public support for a crackdown to stifle Formosa's rapidly spreading mass appeal. A total of 24 opposition leaders including Huang Hsin-chieh, and the magazine's publisher have been arrested. The magazine has been banned...
"The Kaohsiung riot was a personal setback for John C. Kuan, deputy secretary-general of the KMTs central strategy committee, who had been seeking a closer understanding with the opposition. After the riot, Kuan commented that efforts to establish political communication with the opposition in recent months created no mutual understanding because 'their words do not conform to their actions.'
"The opposition has been crippled but not smashed. The pre-Kaohsiung movement was double pronged. Kang Ning-hsiang, through his monthly, The Eighties, advocated moderation with an intellectual appeal. The other opposition pole was Formosa, which sought confrontation with the government, appealed emotionally to social discontent generated in large measure by government economic policies, and based its tactics on mass mobilization.
"The government realizes the need for liberalization as clearly as the impossibility of immediate fundamental change, such as the lifting martial law and abandonment of its mainland recovery policy.. In his closing remarks to the KMT Central Committee plenary session, President Chiang Ching-kuo dismissed the possibility of a sharp veer to the right, saying Taiwan will never be ruled by the military so long as the nation is led by the KMT.
"At the same time he listed several liberalizing measures as political aims for the present stage: rescheduling of last year's (1978) parliamentary elections, cancelled following the ending of US-Taiwan diplomatic relations; establishing an election by-law to avoid future incidents such as the Chungli riot of 1977 over a balloting dispute; and developing respect for differing political opinions while discouraging ideas and activities of rebellion." (Partial text)