The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) produced propaganda about Tibet long before it controlled Tibetan territory. For decades, the styles employed for praising the achievements of the CCP, the government and the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) in Tibetan regions were particularly blunt and mostly marked by stereotypes such as the differences between the ‘dark age’ before ‘liberation’ and the rejoicing of ‘liberated serfs’ because of ‘bumper harvests’, or between the alleged ‘wilderness’ of the ‘old society’ and the ‘progress’ in ‘new Tibet’. While these basic patterns have remained consistent, in recent years considerable efforts have been made to introduce an ever more sophisticated and far more pro-active style of conveying the Party line to the public.
The following provides two recent and representative examples that illustrate the techniques and messages of current PRC propaganda about Tibet. They were issued in English (translated from their original Chinese) on the website of Xinhua, the government’s official news agency, and on the website of China Daily.
Typically, both examples strive to represent the authorities and the measures they take as ‘modern-minded’. The first example conveys the rather clichéd image of the party and army acting for the good of average Tibetans, but it does so in a much subtler way, making use of subtexts and apparently conceding shortcomings. The second example illustrates the current, almost obsessive endeavour of the authorities to be seen as acting ‘scientifically’ (as opposed to following the ‘superstitious’ practices of the ‘old Tibet’) and practising ‘green’, (i.e. ecologically sustainable) policies, in an apparent reaction to the accusations of ecological devastation that ‘liberation’ has brought to the Tibetan plateau. Its lack of logical consistency and less competent style reveals that this type of propaganda is still in an early stage of formation.
‘Injured workers moved to prefecture-level hospital in Tibet’
Superficially, this piece adopts a ews-in-brief character; it tells how two seriously injured workers are flown by a helicopter to the prefecture hospital of Nyingtri.
www.xinhuanet.com 23 November 2004
“Lhasa, Nov. 22 (Xinhuanet) – The two workers seriously injured in a landslide in Medog County in southwest China’s Tibet Autonomous Region last weekend have been transported to a Nyingchi Prefecture hospital.
“As Medog County is poorly equipped with medical equipment and its mountain passes were sealed by heavy snow, Baima Namgyai, the secretary of the Nyingchi Prefectural Committee of the Communist Party of China, asked the Nyingchi Military Subarea Command to send a helicopter to rescue of the two seriously injured workers.
“Under the approval of the Chengdu and Tibet military area command, a helicopter arrived at Medog County on Sunday evening and carried the two wounded workers to Nyingchi in two hours. Medical check-up showed both workers suffered from serious fractures at several parts of their bodies. Both workers are still unconscious.
“Baima Namgyai and other government and army officials have gone to hospital to see the wounded workers and their relatives.
“The landslide occurred last Friday near Heiri Bridge at Medog County, the only county in China with no highway access. Two were seriously wounded and three other workers were killed on the spot.”
The piece operates on three levels:
At the first level, the emphasis of the article is shifted from its starting point, a tragic accident, to the central message to be conveyed to the reader, i.e. that the authorities allegedly managed the situation successfully. We learn that the helicopter, which flew the injured workers to the prefecture hospital, was commandeered from the military at the personal request of the secretary of the Nyingtri Prefectural Party Committee, and that the injured workers are later visited in hospital by government and army officials. Thus the accident itself becomes a mere backdrop to how the care and efficiency of the Party authorities and of the military are put to the test, and illustrates their ability to cooperate for the benefit of the people. The shift of focus is best demonstrated by the fact that the two injured workers remain just “injured workers”, while the Party secretary who requests their rescue by helicopter, Pema Namgyal (Chin: Baima
Namgyai), is named twice. It is also specified that three different levels of military command, all of which are enumerated (TAR, Chengdu and Nyingtri) were involved. The fact that three other workers died is mentioned only perfunctorily in the last sentence, with no emotionalising details. It appears therefore that the central message of the piece could be worded: ‘The Chinese Communist Party and the military deploy the best of their resources to help simple people in need through the resolute and competent actions of their representatives’. As such, this piece is based on perhaps the most recurrent leit-motif and clichéd message of Chinese propaganda, i.e. the state acts in a benign, paternal way to the people; a classical theme, but seemingly one that is still unremittingly re-affirmed.
At the second level, the piece operates with omissions. While ample information is given on the details and circumstances of the action of the Party and the military, many relevant details that would reveal it to be an exceptional, as opposed to a representative, story are omitted. For example, it is not explained why these particular workers were rescued by military helicopter and visited by party and army officials in hospital when in Tibet, even the most basic of healthcare is inaccessible to the majority of people, either physically or, due to the recent privatisation of medical services, financially. Nor is it mentioned that accidents such as these are common in Tibet, and throughout the PRC, due to poor general working conditions and serious shortcomings in safety standards. Thus, rather than providing the reader with useful details on the subject and the background to it, the piece appears highly selective and again biased towards demonstrating how successfully, or at least with the apparent best possible level of efficiency, problems are solved.
At the third level, having established a new focus and omitted contextual details, the piece alludes to ‘modernity’ and the achievements made in contemporary Tibet, and by extension, celebrates the governing Party. This becomes evident in the way that the existence of the helicopter (a symbol of modernity) is well highlighted. Furthermore, whereas in the past shortcomings would have been covered up, the piece openly recognises the weaknesses of the infrastructure in Tibet. We learn that “Medog County is poorly equipped with medical equipment” which, given that this piece is known to be written by a government office, implies an, until recently, unheard of level of openness and transparency. However, it does so only in a way that highlights the achievements and that minimises the conceded shortcomings. Thus, we read that Medog is “the only county in China with no highway access” which unambiguously emphasises the progress made elsewhere. By mentioning that the “mountain passes were sealed by heavy snow”, the piece reinforces an archetypical Chinese viewpoint of Tibet; that its hostile natural environment must and can be tamed or at the least, as in this case, circumvented by modern technology. This not only highlights the rationale, (and hence the need,) for bringing ‘modernity’ to Tibet, but also emphasises how much of a challenge it is to do this in this environment. It also implies the courage of the Party to take up that challenge. Old-fashioned propaganda here would have bluntly spoken of the ‘heroism’ of the Party and army, but the more refined current style of propaganda simply implies this.
‘Afforestation helps reduce sandstorm days in Tibet’
In an approach increasingly adopted, this piece uses the language of objective scientific discourse, by apparently presenting facts, figures and counter-arguments rather than blatantly politically motivated statements.
www.chinadaily.com.cn 21 November 2004
“Afforestation projects have led to a dramatic drop in the annual number of sandstorms in Tibet Autonomous Region in southwest China.
“According to the regional meteorological station, the regional capital Lhasa has seen the number of sandstorm days drop to 5.2 days this year from 53.8 days in the early 1950s.
“The early 1970s to early 1980s saw increasing sandstorms in Tibet – peaking in 1984. Since then the number has dropped gradually and even faster in recent years, research results have shown.
“Large-scale tree planting was launched in the mid-1960s, with efforts increasing in the 1990s. About 13,600 hectares of new forest are planted each year, and 26,700 hectares of hills are fenced up for tree planting yearly.
“Tibet has harnessed desert area of 25,800 hectares and soil-eroded area totally 100,000 hectares since the 1990s.
“But experts warn that global climate warming has caused the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau temperature to rise gradually and windy days to reduce. This is also a major factor behind declining sandstorms.”
While arguing from a supposedly ‘scientific’ point of view, this piece appears to handle issues of methodology and quantitative data with little stringency. For example, the reliability of the figures for sandstorms in the early 1950s in Lhasa, well before the existence of the ‘regional meteorological station’ appears at the least dubious. Beyond this, while the piece refers to sandstorms “in Tibet”, the only statistics given are for Lhasa. In addition, while the title of the piece expressively puts variations of the occurrence of sandstorms into a causal relationship with measures implemented by the Chinese
authorities, and the text highlights a convenient comparison of the present as opposed to the ‘old Tibet’ in the early 1950s, it also mentions that sandstorms increased during the 1970s and 1980s. It fails, however, to provide figures for this period, which incidentally falls under the time of the Chinese Communist Party’s rule.
The piece reports that afforestation has been government policy from the beginning of the ‘new Tibet’, presenting the PRC authorities as practicing ecologically sensitive policies long before the advent of any ‘green’ movements elsewhere. However, it must be noted that although the ‘planting trees to make the motherland green’ (Chin: zhi shu zao lin, lu hua zu guo) campaign around the early 1960s, did involve planting a great number of trees on wasteland west of Lhasa city and other places in TAR, this was carried out with the express aim of ‘civilising’ and ‘taming’ the wild, desert landscape of Tibet, and hence had nothing to do, and actually was rather at odds, with environmental protection in the contemporary sense.
None of the statements made mention that the fastest and most destructive deforestation historically recorded in Tibet took place in eastern TAR and western Sichuan during the first four and half decades of the Chinese rule. As a whole, Tibet lost far more trees through forest mining in Kongpo/Nyingtri and further East than it gained through the tree planting campaigns in the 1960s and beyond. The PRC authorities themselves have linked this to several devastating floods, for instance in Sichuan in 2002, and in recent years have taken drastic measures to counteract the results of this deforestation, incidentally, at the cost of local populations [see: TIN News Update on 29 July 2003: Nomads and farmers resettled in environment protection drive in Chamdo and Sichuan; http://www.tibetinfo.net/news-updates/2003/2907.htm]
Chinese authorities’ claims that they have not only been actively, but successfully ‘green’, backed by ‘scientific’ proof, facts and figures and an alleged link between forest levels and sandstorms, are clearly contradicted in other parts of the piece. When “large-scale tree planting was launched in the mid-1960s”, sandstorms increased in the 1970s and 1980s. Specialists approached by TIN consider the marked reduction of sandstorms in Lhasa, (though not necessarily the TAR as a whole,) which Lhasa residents can indeed confirm, as more likely to be due to the massive growth the city has seen and, more importantly, the sealing of the city and its roads in concrete, rather than any programme of tree planting.
In its efforts to present a quasi-scientific approach to the issue, the piece not only juggles with facts and figures, but also attempts to balance arguments and counter-arguments. This leads to a somewhat perfunctory note of caution attributed vaguely to ‘experts’ in the last paragraph; that it may in fact be global warming that is contributing to the reduction in sandstorms. While this further reinforces the repeated mention of the authorities’ concern for ecological issues, it also makes the link between afforestation and the reducing of sandstorms, the central argument of the piece, redundant, leaving the reader in confusion.
