A recent essay in the New York Times brings up a growing trend in the West of organizations, governments and scholars avoiding certain politically sensitive topics for fear of offending the Chinese government. In one example cited, the US Library of Congress turned down an invitations to hold a talk with an author of a book about one of the 1989 Tiananmen Square protesters; in another example, scholars worry about writing about political sensitive topics for fear of being denied future visas to travel to China. For anyone who likes China and has spent time learning Chinese, let along building a career on understanding and studying China, the idea of getting put on a blacklist is scary, and even if it only happens rarely, the self-censorship it leads to is still dangerous.
I’m not that worried about being blacklisted (at least for now), but I’ve still found myself avoiding discussing certain topics. On the train from Tai’an to Beijing, we sat across from a very sweet retired couple from Tai’an, who stuffed us full with peanuts and mantou while trying to find out everything from how we could possibly take such a long vacation to what we would do if I got pregnant. When they asked what the books we were reading were about (after repeatedly warning us that reading on the train would destroy our eyes), I had a moment of panic. Martin’s book, a 535 page overview of Chinese history, was uncontroversial enough, but my book, called Tibet, Tibet, might be a different issue. Would it spark a tense debate, or angry comments about Western meddling in Chinese affairs? I needn’t have worried — the couple seemed completely unaware that the Western view of Tibet’s political situation differs from the Chinese government’s, and the old lady told me about a program she had seen about Tibet on TV, that told the viewers about Tibetan slaves who walked around with chains around their wrists and ankles before “liberation”, and showed how much better off and happier Tibetans are today. It seems clear that Tibet in the 1950s was badly in need of reform, but that (like the rest of China) the region suffered terribly in the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution, and that the current policy of focusing on development while limiting political rights is not universally popular among Tibetans (and has meant that a lot of the new jobs created have gone to newly immigrated Han Chinese — trickle-down development is taking a long time to trickle down). But instead of telling her about the issues I was reading about in my book, I just said “Tibet’s history is complicated”, and she agreed.
Not all foreigners in China are careful about mentioning sensitive topics, but many are. Partly it’s a desire not to offend — I wouldn’t bring up religion with a particularly devout friend in the West, and in China, I similarly try to avoid bringing up topics that I think might risk offending people I don’t know well. Partly it’s a language barrier — it’s hard to have a nuanced discussion when neither of us speaks the other’s language fluently. Partly it’s because we’re told to avoid certain sensitive topics when we arrive. Martin’s school explicitly told him not to talk about the “Three T’s” in his classes: Taiwan, Tibet and Tiananmen; another friend was admonished for showing a movie to his class that was loosely related to Christianity. I was never given specific guidelines on topics to avoid, and while slightly controversial topics were perfect for discussion, I also wanted to make sure that no student felt offended or alienated from the conversation — and that applied outside of class as well.
But nothing in my experience of having discussions with Chinese friends has prompted this level of caution– most people I talk to, especially young people, have tended to be open-minded, progressive, and even when opinions differ, few seem to take offence. There are some issues where I think the outside perspective is better, but others where I might be wrong, and at the very least understanding the other side’s perspective should be beneficial for everyone involved. At the very least, it would help clear up misconceptions about what the other side thinks.