How the Chinese Authorities Silenced Dissident Hu Jia
By PAUL MOONEY in Beijing
BEIJING—Over the past few years, much of the news about human-rights
abuses in China has emerged from the simple living room of Hu Jia, a
boyish-looking activist who used several cellphones, a home phone, a
small desktop computer, and a video camera as a conduit between victims
of Chinese government abuse and the outside world.
It was Hu, for instance, who put out the word last fall when
authorities barred the wife of a prominent imprisoned activist, the
blind, self-trained lawyer Chen Guangcheng, from traveling to accept
Asia's top humanitarian award on behalf of her husband. When officials
claimed she lacked a valid passport and visa, Hu circulated scanned
copies of her documents to show that the government was lying.
And when the daughter of lawyer-activist Gao Zhisheng sneaked past
police to telephone Hu, he E-mailed the moving recording of their
conversation around the world. "When the government put Gao Zhisheng
under house arrest, they thought the story would go away, but it was Hu
Jia who kept on the story and who told the world what was happening,"
says a journalist who knows Hu well.
Tech saavy. Hu's use of technology added to the credibility of his
reports. "When he reported about the persecution of Gao's family after
his detention, it was very hard to dispute that it was indeed Gao's
14-year-old daughter crying on the phone," says Eva Pils, assistant law
professor at the Chinese University of Hong Kong.
His activities did not go unnoticed by the authorities, who placed
plainclothes police outside his apartment and monitored his
communications. A little after 1 a.m. on December 27, Hu finished a
report on the family of a prominent dissident and hit the send button,
dispatching the E-mail to subscribers in China and abroad. The message
would be his last for a time. About 14 hours later, some 20 police
broke into Hu's apartment on the outskirts of Beijing—in a complex that
ironically is known as BOBO Freedom City—and took him away, along with
his computers, mobile phones, and bank books. He has been charged with
"incitement to subvert state power," a charge frequently used to
silence dissenters.
Human-rights experts say that while Hu's detention temporarily slowed
the flow of information on human-rights abuses, others are stepping in.
"By shutting down people like Hu Jia, they are just creating 10 more
people to fill his shoes," says Sara Davis, executive director of the
human-rights group Asia Catalyst, "because the conditions have not
changed."
"Peacock" turned out to be well worth the wait. The movie succeeds
because of its simple but bittersweet cinematography, excellent
performances by a cast of new young actors, and its ability to capture
the grim realities of China's recent past.