At Long Last, China Declared War, On Pollution

Chinese Premier Li Keqiang delivers the
"Report on Government Work"
to the National People's Congress (Xinhua photo)

The central government of China finally declared war on pollution during the annual National People’s Congress convention.

In his “Report on Government Work” on March 5, Chinese Premier Li Keqiang told thousands of top legislators that China will “determinedly declare war on pollution.”

This is so far the strongest language the central government has used on the matter of environmental pollution. Phrases such as “determinedly deal with” have been used in the past, but to “declare war” is a big leap from the past rhetoric. 

This leap came faster than many people would have expected, myself included. And what can I say? Thanks to the suffocating smog that has frequented Beijing in recent years, where the top leaders live and have to suffer it just like the rest of the over 20 million residents?

It is sad by all accounts, that a beautiful, ancient city has to suffer such heavy pollution. But if not for the smog, which perhaps the premier himself is also sick of, people may have to wait longer for the war declaration.

On the other hand, however, the declaration is only too late as China has experienced exacerbating pollution for no less than two decades.

I have written about the pollution problem in China at least since about eight years ago and have waited and waited to see when the government will become really decisive to curb pollution. But for years, I have seen the government either putting economic growth ahead of the environment, or paying lip service to fighting pollution.

Is it still lip service this time around, albeit louder? I hope not, because Mr. Li Keqiang and Mr. Xi Jinping, the president, need to breathe clean air and see the blue sky, too. While other rich Chinese immigrating to Canada and enjoying the fresh air there, Mr. Li and Xi cannot escape the smog. They better do something about it.

China in Weibo/Episode 1: The Iconoclast of Lei Feng (Watch Video)

A famous reporter in China once told me: China is a country where truth is in short supply. Well, until weibo came along.

Weibo is the Chinese name for mircoblog. The most popular microblog service in China right now is the one provided by sina.com, or Sina Weibo. Weibo is a concept borrowed from Twitter, which is not accessible in China. Adopting Twitter’s standard, posts on weibo cannot exceed 140 Chinese characters, which actually account for more words than do English letters of the same amount. With 140 Chinese characters, roughly 70 words, a weibo post can express a lot.

The China unveiled on weibo is very different from the one presented in any traditional media outlet in the country. Weibo carries facts and opinions one can never see in traditional media, because weibo, which is open to everybody who can get online, is not so tightly controlled by China’s propaganda authorities. Despite rumors that the authorities may shut it down completely someday, so far, weibo is alive and well.

Weibo thus has become the platform for whistleblowers to reveal official corruption, for people to criticize the government or simply express opinions that might otherwise be silenced. As such, weibo also has become a window through which one can see China from a very different perspective.

Starting this week, I will choose on a rather regular basis interesting stories, debates and phenomena that I spot on Sina Weibo and present the information through multimedia.

This first episode is about Lei Feng, a national icon died 50 years ago, and how people use weibo to articulate different meanings of this icon than those presented in state media.

The New York Times published an article on March 5 on the same topic.

Related articles:

The real story behind Lei Feng’s photos  (in Chinese)

More on Lei Feng (Xinhua resource; in Chinese)

China Pictory: Layers of Transformation

(View a slide show here)

Being back in my hometown could be a stress, because I have to deal with the fact that the place I grew up has become such a strange city that I can’t even find my way home without taking a cab.

Where has the place in my memory gone? So I looked everywhere, and found traces of the old city amongst layers of the city’s skyline, much like reading the growth of a tree through the layers of tree rings.

But unlike tree rings, which preserve even the very first year of growth, the older layers in my hometown are bound to be demolished sooner or later.

The city, like thousands of cities around China, is transforming into something the decision makers considered as “modern.” When red bricks, gray clay tiles and metal-bar covered windows are completely replaced by shiny glass walls and sleek high-rise apartment buildings, the city will take a whole new look, and the one as I remember will be gone for good.

I may be sad, but I know it is simply unstoppable. No one can ever stop modernization once you open the door to it. Old streets, traditional buildings or ancient sites could only survive as government designated preservation, just enough to allow people like me to maybe have a taste of the past.

Sure I will enjoy a new, modern city with all its glamour and convenience. But I will always remember, dearly, the quiet, narrow, stone-paved streets that I strolled down with my parents, once upon a time, on a warm Sunday morning.

China Pictory: The Return of Real Chopsticks

Read the related article here.

 (photos by Josie Liu unless otherwise indicated)