China's Cyber Crackdown
By PAUL MOONEY in Beijing
Paul Baranowski sits in a small Toronto basement apartment surrounded
by three computers hooked up to an LCD monitor and stacks of computer
manuals. He describes his workspace as “minimalist,” but there’s
nothing small about his mission. Baranowski, 28, is preparing to take
on the biggest obstacle to the free flow of information in the
world—the People’s Republic of China.
He hopes to do
it by developing a program—he calls it
Peek-a-Booty—that will enable Chinese Internet users to browse the Web
without fear of detection. “It’s a very slow process,” says Baranowski,
who works on the program with a roommate “whenever we have time.” The
two have no outside financial support, says the computer engineer, who
quit his job last year to devote himself to the project. “It’s purely
about Internet freedom.” But Baranowski and other hacker activists, or
hacktivists, opposed to government control of the Internet may just be
banging their heads against the Great Firewall. In recent months,
Beijing—using state-of-the-art technology—has significantly stepped up
its efforts to control the country’s cyberspace, delaying dreams that
the Internet would channel new ideas and freedom of expression in
China. Some even wonder if the government hasn’t already turned the
technology to its own advantage as a tool of repression. “The bad guys
have had a victory of sorts,” says a Western diplomat in Beijing. “My
friends who were cocky 18 months ago about the Internet are not so
cocky now. There’s a lot more to be worried about.”
No one knows
exactly how big China’s Internet police force is
these days, although estimates run as high as 40,000. But whatever its
size, its sophistication is greater than ever. The government’s new
capabilities were revealed in September when it blocked access to the
Google search engine for a week. When the blockade was lifted, Chinese
surfers found their browsers’ cache function—once an easy way to access
information from banned Web sites—disabled. More ominous, the
government also had the ability to search for keywords, and to block
“sensitive” Web pages, like those devoted to Taiwan, the Falun Gong or
foreign news coverage. The software, which experts say is “a great
technological leap forward,” punishes surfers who attempt to access
blocked pages, preventing them from accessing the Web for up to to
several hours. Chinese censors have also begun to employ filtering
technology to block e-mails from the country’s 49.5 million Netizens.
And Chinese
authorities are going on the offensive. Beijing
has become quite skilled at hunting down proxy servers that allow users
to maneuver around firewalls. The average cyberlife of a new proxy
server is now about 30 minutes. Nor are Internet cafes havens any
longer for exploring the Net. Cafes in Jiangxi province are
experimenting with swipe cards linked to customers’ national ID cards.
Some Beijing Internet cafes have installed surveillance cameras
overlooking computer screens. One cafe manager took foreign reporters
to a back room, where a police-linked computer, connected to four spy
cameras, monitored users.
So how has
China’s Internet lockdown come to be so effective,
so fast? “There’s no way they could have done this without Western
help,” says Baranowski, back in his Toronto apartment. “Even now, they
need Western help to keep up their firewall. They simply don’t have
enough people and the technology they need to do this.” In a report
issued last month, Amnesty International singled out Microsoft, Sun
Microsystems, Cisco and Websense as U.S. corporations that are
increasingly selling filtering hardware and software, among other
products, to Chinese authorities. Eric Gutmann, a visiting fellow at
the Project for the New American Century, a conservative Washington,
D.C., think tank, claims that Chinese engineers familiar with Cisco’s
operations told him that the U.S. company had “gone out of its way” to
adapt its routers and firewall technology for China. “Cisco knew
exactly what their equipment was going to be used for,” insists
Gutmann. Terry Alberstein, Cisco’s head of Asian public relations,
denies that the company tailors its products for the China market,
adding, “If the government of China wants to monitor the Internet,
that’s their business. We are basically politically neutral.”
But to some,
being “neutral” is just a code for complicity.
“Even if [Cisco] is not modifying their equipment for China—and I’m
very skeptical about that—to me it makes no difference,” says Greg
Walton, a freelance researcher focusing on the impact of technology on
human rights. “It’s a great leap of the imagination to think this is
not going to be used in harmful ways.” But with Western firms competing
for a share of China’s rapidly expanding technology market—said to be
worth more than $20 billion a year—it’s a safe bet they’ll continue to
be drawn to morally questionable alliances.
And online
freedom fighters—loose collections of Chinese
dissidents and hacktivists—will continue to test the ingenuity of
Chinese censors. Lin Hai, who was sentenced to 18 months in prison for
distributing 30,000 e-mail addresses to “overseas hostile
publications,” now lives in the United States. He is developing
software to enable Chinese surfers to circumvent government
interference with free Web-based e-mail accounts such as Yahoo and
Hotmail. Researcher Walton says there are about 30 hacktivists around
the world who are excellent programmers and who have taken up the cause
of Internet freedom in China. ‘There is a romantic tinge to the whole
thing,” says Walton, but he thinks they’d be more effective if they
teamed up with the “thousands of people working in university labs”
rather than acting as “lone wolves.”
Baranowski
concedes that China has the edge now, but says
that the final victory will belong to the side willing to invest the
most. Arguments like that have put a bill before the U.S. Congress—the
Global Internet Freedom Act—that would set aside $50 million in 2003
and 2004 to help small players develop ways to bypass Internet controls
around the world. Others believe no amount of money will level the
playing field. ”[Beijing] puts unlimited resources into these things,”
says Xiao Qiang, director of New York-based Human Rights in China.
William Farris, a senior specialist on the Internet for the
Congressional-Executive Commission on China, agrees: “If we decide to
spend $30 million here, the Chinese government will spend $100 million.”
Change, they
say, must come from the people within the
censors’ walls—like Huang Qi, who was detained 21/2 years ago for
setting up China’s first domestic human-rights Web site. As the police
stormed into his house to arrest Huang and his wife, he posted a final
message: “The road is still long. Thanks to all who make an effort on
behalf of democracy in China. They have come. So long.” Cries for help
like that may keep the hacktivists going long after the money runs out.