Is China cleaning or 'cleansing' for Olympics?

Many people, probably including some members of the International Olympics Committee, hoped that holding this year's Olympic Games in Beijing would serve as a lever to induce mainland China to improve its human-rights record, permit both Chinese and foreign journalists to report more honestly in China, and act more responsibly in the rest of the world in order to enhance the preferred image of China as a mature member of the international community.

The Chinese government has relented on a few issues — it didn't veto a U.N. resolution imposing sanctions on Iran, it has offered limited cooperation on reining in the genocidal regime in Sudan, and has agreed to a smoking ban at Olympic venues (this is a key human-rights issue?). However, as the August 8 opening of the games approaches it has become clear that in the short run and in certain areas the Olympics have led to more repression in China rather than less.

The reason is not hard to understand. Beijing wants to present a harmonious face to the world during the Games. But its idea of harmony includes stifling dissent and other manifestations that could look embarrassing to the eyes of others in the world. So in addition to tearing down some of Beijing's more colorful and historic neighborhoods to erect Olympic venues and gleaming new skyscrapers, it has rounded up street beggars in Beijing and shipped them off to the provinces. And it is rounding up political dissidents and potential troublemakers as well.

In April Amnesty International issued a stern report claiming that “[i]t is increasingly clear that much of the current wave of repression is occurring not in spite of the Olympics but actually because of the Olympics. It cited the detention of a number of pro-democracy and human-rights activists and the brutal crackdown on protestors in Tibet.

On April 3 Hu Jia, who had written articles linking human rights and the Olympics, received a 3-1/2-year prison sentence for “inciting subversion of state power.” Thousands of Web sites have been shut down and government control and blocking of sites outside China has been intensified.

An ancient tradition that survives today involves citizens who feel they have been done wrong by provincial authorities coming to Beijing to plead their case to the emperor — or national party officials these days. Though they seldom get satisfaction, they still come. In recent weeks, however, vans with provincial license plates have been seen outside the State Bureau for Letters and Visits. Their mission is to spot anybody from their provinces coming to Beijing to register complaints, pick them up and take them home, with a stern admonition not to come back.
Huang Qi, who had already served a five-year prison term for establishing a Web site to publicize the plight of the poor in Sichuan province, was recently nabbed by police while having dinner in a small restaurant with two colleagues. He is among dozens of Chinese writers and lawyers who have swept into detention in recent weeks.

Human Rights Watch just issued a report saying that Chinese promises to allow journalists access to the rest of China during the Olympics have been broken, and Chinese journalists in particular have been put on notice not to do anything remotely provocative until the Games are well over.

China will no doubt put on a reasonably impressive Olympics, and in some respects China's recent economic growth (achieved mainly by loosening government control over the economy) is admirable. But it will be worth remembering, amid the pageantry, spectacle and inspiring athletic competition, that the image of harmony will have been achieved at a steep price, paid mostly by the Chinese people.