Alter-Globo in Hong Kong
From
Saul Thomas <stthomas@nerdshack.com>
Date
Tue, 16 Jan 2007 02:01:50 +0800
User-agent
Thunderbird 1.5.0.9 (X11/20070102)
[The following is a very interesting interview with one of our list
members, Au Loong-yu, published in the most recent New Left Review]
-------------
http://newleftreview.org/?page=article&view=2647
New Left Review 42, November-December 2006
Hong Kong labour activist Au Loong-Yu discusses the impact of Chinese
sovereignty on the former British colony, and Pacific Rim protests
against the WTO. What prospects for an alter-globalization in the East?
AU LOONG-YU
ALTER-GLOBO IN HONG KONG
Can you tell us something about your background?
I was born in Hong Kong in 1956. My family had come from Guangdong in
the early 1940s—my father was an artisan, making small ornaments and the
like. He came from the city of Foshan, which was known over centuries
for its porcelain. In Hong Kong, he did several brief spells in
factories, but couldn’t endure factory discipline; he loved his freedom
as a craftsman. My mother worked alongside him in their workshop at our
house. They didn’t earn much: my three brothers and I sometimes had to
walk the streets with my father selling souvenirs he had made. We lived
in Kowloon, but I went to a Catholic secondary school—though I’m not a
religious person—on Hong Kong island.
How was the prc perceived while you were growing up in the 1960s?
People were divided in their attitudes towards China—though not the Hong
Kong bourgeoisie, who of course loathed the ccp. But in the labour
movement, there was a deep split between Communist-led unions and those
run by the kmt, which lasted up until the early 70s. The hostility
between the two peaked in 1956, when the kmt trade unions physically
attacked ccp unionists. The ccp had extensive influence among workers:
the ‘Socialist Fatherland’ was seen as a counterweight to colonial rule.
But then in 1967 the Maoist pro-ccp union called a general strike that
no workers supported, and then in the wake of its failure launched an
‘urban warfare’ campaign. This was a bitter disappointment to many
workers who had been dedicated to the cause, and who paid a high price
for the ccp-led unions’ desire to emulate the Gang of Four. The popular
saying at the time was that they wanted a big strike, /Da bagong/, but
instead it was /Dahua bagong/, a big exaggeration.
I was a schoolboy during this period, but two things in particular made
a strong impression on me. I remember seeing long queues at the post
office in the early 1960s: people were sending rice, clothes, daily
necessities back to their relatives in China because of the famine. And
in 1967 and 68 there were stories of people beaten to death during the
Cultural Revolution, and their bodies floating into Hong Kong harbour
from the Pearl River.
How was British rule viewed at this time?
British rule in the postwar era can be divided into two periods either
side of 1971. In the earlier period, there was a form of spatial
apartheid—the Tai Ping Shan area was restricted to Westerners—and
conditions were much more oppressive: working hours were long, wages low
and strike activity ruthlessly suppressed by the colonial government.
National oppression took a very visible form: nearly all high-ranking
posts were occupied by Brits, and English was the only official
language; at school, we would be refused permission to go to the
bathroom if we didn’t ask in English.
The British clamped down hard on the labour movement after the 1967
events—perhaps 4,000 or 5,000 trade unionists were sacked, and thousands
put in prison. This took a toll from which the Maoist unions never
recovered. Nevertheless, by the early 70s, pressure had begun to mount
on the British, both from within and from without, to make some reforms
in order to maintain any legitimacy. Hong Kong students and social
activists were agitating for Chinese language rights, and against the
possible transfer of Diao Yu Island to Japan. A key turning point came
on 7 July 1971, when the colonial government harshly repressed a
demonstration by radical nationalist youth movements. A wave of further
protests ensued, and the government was forced for the first time to
permit demonstrations. After that student groups mobilized with some
success against official corruption, and in 1973 pressured the
government into forming an Independent Commission, which continues to
function. Externally, China’s rising international status—its assumption
of a un Security Council seat in 1971, Nixon’s visit and so on—was an
important factor pushing the British into granting limited political
freedoms.
How and when were you radicalized?
By the 1971 mobilizations around the Diao Yu Island. They were organized
by young students, many of whom were beaten and hospitalized by the
colonial police. The worldwide radicalization of the 1960s was late in
coming to Hong Kong—it wasn’t till 1970 that young people began to
respond to socialist or Marxist ideas, for instance. Though the ccp had
lost much of its base among the Hong Kong workers after 1967, it
benefited greatly from the upsurge in national sentiment among students
and intellectuals. China, and its Maoist model, was seen as an
alternative to British rule—though during the course of the 1970s the
local ccp moved away from advocating the end of colonialism, in the name
of stability. In student circles, the Maoists were constantly challenged
by liberal currents and the radical left, notably Trotskyists and
anarchists. The Chinese Trotskyists had had a presence in Hong Kong
since the 1940s, while anarchism had become fashionable in the early
1970s. I followed lively debates in the papers between the two
groupings, and read Marx and Trotsky as well as Marcuse and Fromm. I was
attracted to Fromm’s humanism, and found Trotsky’s analysis of
bureaucracy highly relevant to contemporary Chinese history. Many of my
classmates became Maoists, but despite my youth I felt a strong aversion
to the cult of personality. I joined the Young Socialist Group, which
moved increasingly in a Trotskyist direction, but disintegrated in the
early 1980s.
What did you do after graduating?
I finished high school in 1974, and worked in the offices of a British
and then us trading firm until 1977. After that I spent two years
working in factories, making garments and Japanese watches. I then
enrolled at Hong Kong Baptist College to study Chinese, which I went on
to teach in high schools until 1995.
What was the response in Hong Kong to Tiananmen Square, and to the
democracy movement more generally?
The initial reaction was both horror and anger—including among
pro-Beijing groups, though these repented their criticisms of the ccp
soon enough. Many dissidents fled China in the wake of the repression,
but they mostly went to the us, and so had little impact on Hong Kong’s
political scene. The real effect of Tiananmen Square was to bolster the
liberals in Hong Kong, who became dominant in the opposition camp—a
position derived not from any innate strength, but from the degeneration
of ‘really existing socialism’. The 1989 crackdown made for a glaring
contrast between colony and mainland, which increasingly came to be seen
as a barbaric, absolutist regime.
Not that Hong Kong itself was an authentic liberal democracy, even by
the time Britain’s ninety-nine year lease expired. For all the rhetoric,
Patten did little towards democratization: prior to the 1997 handover,
only half the seats in the legislative council were directly elected
under universal suffrage. It was only the fierce opposition of the
Chinese government and its backers in Hong Kong to such a small step
that enabled the uk to garner some credibility. This was nothing new: in
the early 1980s, when the colonial government began to introduce direct
elections, the heads of the pro-ccp unions opposed it, claiming that ‘We
workers only care for /fan piao/ [rice voucher], not /xuan piao/
[ballot]’. The ccp’s rigidity made Patten’s piecemeal democratic
engineering appear more significant than it really was. In fact,
London’s reforms simply served to ensure that in 1997, power was
peacefully retained by the same set of mandarins as before, the colony’s
Administrative Officers, only this time under the leadership of a
governor appointed by Beijing, Tung Chi Wah.
Nevertheless, there has been significant progress for Hong Kong Chinese
since the days of my youth. There is now a clear agenda for universal
suffrage and parliamentary democracy, which was totally lacking in the
1970s. The democratic movement in Hong Kong is important, since freedom
of the press and assembly are the only weapons we have to defend our
autonomy, and resist the political convergence between the one-party
regime on the mainland, and Hong Kong’s mandarins and tycoons. Liberal
democracy does provide working people with a space to resist, which is
entirely lacking in mainland China. However, because of the dominance of
liberal ideas, these democratic aspirations are never linked to social
and economic rights. Even three or four years ago, the minimum wage was
seen as a radical demand. Hong Kong society is very atomized: few people
join political parties, social movements and trade unions are very weak,
and it is difficult to mobilize rank and file members in any great
numbers. Movements are often led by paid officials. Such a low
organizational starting point makes it hard to wage a prolonged
democratic struggle, and it seems likely that if full universal suffrage
and parliamentary democracy arrived in Hong Kong, the same clique would
be able to monopolize it.
Can you tell us about what has happened since 1997? What has the process
of integration with the prc involved?
The idea of ‘one country, two systems’ was essentially the invention of
Deng Xiaoping. When the prc’s leaders spoke in the 1980s of learning
from Hong Kong, they naturally did not mean freedom of the press or
limited democratic rights, but the example of Hong Kong capitalism.
After 1997 mainland corporations rapidly moved to strengthen control
over Hong Kong’s media—tv, newspapers and so on—resulting in growing
self-censorship on the part of broadcasters and journalists. In economic
terms, Hong Kong was already undergoing de-industrialization before the
handover: whereas manufacturing accounted for a third of the labour
force in 1986, by 1996 it had dropped to a tenth. The overwhelming bulk
of jobs—over 90 per cent today—are in the service sector. A deep
restructuring of the working class is under way, as hundreds of
thousands of workers, especially women, have been forced into
increasingly precarious employment. The main effect of the handover was
to greatly accelerate this trend towards downward mobility. Even service
jobs have shifted to southern China: banks, insurance companies,
airliners, accounting firms and so on all have their logistics bases in
Shenzhen or Guangzhou, where wages are a fraction of those in Hong Kong,
and white-collar workers never strike. As a result, Hong Kong wages
dropped by a third or more across the board after the Asian Crisis.
Many people left Hong Kong before the handover: there was an enormous
middle-class migration to the West. The shortage of teachers,
incidentally, made it easier for me to secure jobs in better schools.
But Hong Kongese are still much more able to travel than mainlanders.
Under the rules of ‘one country, two systems’, citizens of both Hong
Kong and the mainland prc need an internal passport to cross from one
side to the other; but it is easy for Hong Kongese to get this passport,
whereas mainlanders face a number of obstacles—notably the Hukou
household registration system, which practically makes second-class
citizens of the rural population. In effect, the richer you are, the
easier it is to come to Hong Kong—making for a form of combined spatial
and social apartheid.
Beijing mandarins from time to time warn Hong Kong residents not to turn
the region into an ‘anti-communist base’. But for all its distaste for
Hong Kong’s autonomy, ‘socialist’ Beijing has long depended on the
capitalist colony: from 1949–79, one third of all foreign exchange
earned by the prc came through Hong Kong. For the moment, they cannot
take any drastic measures to curtail that autonomy, which would greatly
radicalize local opinion. Gradual erosion seems the most likely path in
the long run, barring the advent of significant resistance on the mainland.
How did the Globalization Monitor originate? What is its readership?
/Globalization Monitor /was founded in 1999, just a few months before
Seattle. A group of activists including Gerard Greenfield, John Chan and
myself had already been in contact with trade unionists and
environmentalists, and in 1997 we staged the first anti-globalization
protest in Hong Kong, against the World Bank. Other Hong Kong social
movements just ignored us, so after more serious discussions we decided
to launch a journal and website, /Globalization Monitor/, with the aim
of providing public education among trade unions and ngos. We initially
worked with the Confederation of Trade Unions (ctu). The Monitor
currently has 12 editorial board members, drawn from the women’s
movement, Greens, trade unions and public-sector unions. The readership
we aim at is first of all Chinese workers, rather than English-speakers;
we devote what resources we have to reporting the truth as broadly as
possible in Chinese, and then see if we can secure enough international
support for publishing materials in English.
A second strand of our tactics is to help spread the news of workers
involved in spontaneous strikes. Through our network of contacts in
mainland China, we gather information on labour conditions and disputes
there. Where possible, we invite the more outspoken workers to Hong Kong
to take part in informal discussion groups—though this is complicated
and prohibitively expensive for most migrant workers, since in order to
travel they have first to return all the way to their home village and
apply for a passport there. Our idea is to raise the awareness of the
workers who do make it here, with a view to their eventually becoming
activists themselves.
What sort of campaigns have you been able to mount?
In 2004, through our mainland contacts we heard about two battery
factories in Huizhou owned by Gold Peak, where 177 workers were
diagnosed with cadmium poisoning. The company has 12,000 employees
worldwide, and annual revenues of over $500m. We leaked the story to the
press in Hong Kong, and it hit the headlines: the ceo of Gold Peak,
Victor Lo, is a member of the Hong Kong Executive Council. The company
also has factories in Shenzhen and one in Hong Kong, where we heard
about more cases of cadmium poisoning, which we also publicized. The
story was picked up by the mainland press, and in late 2004, Central
China tv made a programme about it that was—by their
standards—surprisingly critical. This made a big contribution to raising
public awareness about the costs of the ‘Chinese miracle’: a previously
indifferent public now at least had some knowledge of what was
happening. We’ve circulated the programme to workers on dvd as an
educational tool, to show them that it is possible for the national
media to pick up their stories. This hope is the real gain from our
action; sadly, the report on national tv was not enough to pressure Gold
Peak into meeting workers’ claims for compensation. Three times in 2006
we arranged for Gold Peak workers to come to Hong Kong, where they tried
to meet with senior executives of the company, and publicly picketed
Victor Lo. In November 2006 we finally succeeded in setting up a meeting
between Lo and the workers. But he rebuffed their claims—and is now
suing /Globalization Monitor /and the ctu.
What has been the response to Globalization Monitor from other Hong Kong
organizations?
Hong Kong’s social movements are generally very conservative, in part
because of the deep-seated individualism of the culture. It is very hard
to get people to participate actively, something the democratic movement
has also experienced—though they can draw large numbers to
demonstrations, they have very few committed cadres or intellectuals. Up
until around 2002–3, trade unionists, ngos and community groups would
listen to what we were saying, but did not agree. After 2002–3, things
changed significantly—the government was privatizing relentlessly,
making sweeping cuts, and many public employees lost their jobs. This
set off a first wave of radicalization, during which people became more
sceptical about the effects of neoliberal globalization. This laid the
foundations for us to form the Hong Kong People’s Alliance on the wto
(hkpa) in September 2004, and prepare for the anti-wto action week at
the end of 2005.
What has been the impact of wto accession on China?
Overall, the impact has been to speed up capital-friendly restructuring.
State-owned enterprises, initially the manufacturing and energy sectors,
bore the brunt of this: a total of 26 million manufacturing jobs were
lost between 1996 and 2001. The effect of the wto on agriculture will
destroy the basis of the small peasant economy. Agricultural tariffs
have been slashed as per wto requirements, and are now among the lowest
in the world, while domestic farm subsidies were cut from 10 per cent of
total agricultural production value to 8.5 per cent. China recently
became a net importer of agricultural products, an alarming development
for a country of its size and agrarian traditions. Government officials
point to the abolition of agricultural taxes as a measure beneficial to
farmers. But this tax only ever accounted for a fraction of the money
peasants pay to officials, who impose all kinds of ‘fees’ for education,
infrastructure or even local militia. Moreover, there are numerous cases
of land being expropriated from farmers for commercial purposes.
In accordance with wto rules, in 2007 China will have to open its
service sector, including banking and finance. In the last few years the
banking sector has shed 250,000 workers. There has already been a
general commercialization of services, which has affected education in
particular. It will also make China much more vulnerable to regional
financial crises than was the case in 1997. This is all the more
pressing in view of the unreliability of official data: no one knows the
real amount of non-performing loans, or of hidden foreign debt. There is
a range of estimates for illegal capital flight—perhaps as high as
$70bn, much of it laundered through Hong Kong or Macau.
The lack of transparency surrounding the true state of the Chinese
economy is obviously connected to the issue of corruption. The reality
is that elites are immune to prosecution despite the occasional trial of
an official. In fact, very often these trials are more about faction
fights than weeding out corruption. Tiananmen sent the message that the
bureaucracy is entirely above the law. We are witnessing a revival of
the ancient tradition according to which criminal charges applied only
to commoners; perhaps an even better analogy would be /mianzui
tiejuan/—a kind of certificate, made of iron, granted to the emperor’s
favourite ministers which pardoned them for all crimes in advance. In
these conditions, there can be no rule of law. The same principle helps
make sense of the post-Soviet experience. A European activist I met in
1990 argued that the Soviet bureaucracy could not go capitalist, because
it lacked the money to buy the national assets; but since they were
above the law, they could simply plunder them.
Has there been any opposition to the wto within China?
Owing to severe censorship, most workers in the prc don’t really
understand much about what impact the wto will have on them.
/Globalization Monitor/’s editors have done many interviews, and
discovered that rural migrant workers knew least of all; state-sector
workers are more knowledgeable—those in auto factories will have heard,
for example, of tariffs on cars being cut, and know that this will
affect their jobs. But the general response from workers has been
apathy. Some opposition has come from inside the party bureaucracy and
academia, though before 2001 this was confined to a very small circle of
New Left intellectuals. Since then, critics have become more outspoken,
but often on purely nationalist grounds. They will attack a mode of
accumulation that is too dependent on foreign capital, but they are not
opposed to the wto on principle; rather, they support entry on more
favourable terms. Han Deqiang, for instance, has advocated pushing for
better protections while China gains greater access to the world market,
allowing it to increase its share of global trade. [1]
<http://newleftreview.org/?page=article&view=2647#_edn1> From a
nationalist perspective, China has every right to seek profits—hence the
recent recurrence of arguments for a strong military to defend China’s
geopolitical interests; after all, there are oilfields in Indonesia,
coal and iron ore mines in Peru to be protected.
Some have argued that the best way to mobilize workers in order to
secure their rights is through using legal means. What is your view of
such a strategy?
Han Dongfang <http://www.newleftreview.org/A2571>, who founded the
/China Labour Bulletin/, has been arguing on these lines for over a
decade. [2] <http://newleftreview.org/?page=article&view=2647#_edn2> I
think these tactics have been a failure. To begin with, workers always
act according to the law in the first, second and third instance. In
almost every case we have come across in the course of research for
/Globalization Monitor/, before they had gone on strike or organized
demonstrations and roadblocks, workers have been petitioning the
government or private companies for years. And officials or managers
have always turned them away. Han also argues that you can transform
existing trade unions by calling for elections. This is problematic
enough in the state sector, where the primary role of unions has always
been to raise productivity, rather than protect workers’ rights. In the
private sector, where the worst abuses and violations of labour rights
take place, the situation is far worse: there are no genuine trade
unions at all. Often the boss will simply assign union posts, and the
personnel manager is usually chairman of the union. In the Gold Peak
factories on the mainland, assembly line supervisors have been appointed
union members. How can the workers collectively respond to this? How can
they approach a union official and ask for fresh elections, when the
person they have to ask is their boss?
In his two books on Chinese labour, Han has made clear the rationale
behind his legalistic strategy: pointing to the terrible consequences of
the Cultural Revolution, he says explicitly that a popular uprising is
to be avoided at all costs. We understand his concern, but reject the
idea that the legal path is the only avenue of attack. In fact, in the
majority of cases, when workers go on strike or block the road, nothing
terrible has happened, no one has been killed—and the workers at least
manage to win back some of their wages, or score other partial
successes. Moreover, Chinese peasants can endure a tremendous amount. If
they do become violent and burn your property, it is nearly always your
fault. In a Taiwanese-owned shoe factory at Xing Ang, the workers had
become so downtrodden that they virtually destroyed the place; several
of them were sent to jail, but we would see management as being
responsible for their condition in the first place. On the whole,
outcomes are more peaceful, and any violence tends to be in the private
sector, where workers are more vulnerable. The predominance of rural
migrant workers there, however, makes organizing more difficult—they are
from a more individualistic farming culture, and are deeply divided
among themselves. But spontaneous strikes are in our experience more
effective than approaching personnel managers or government officials.
Overseas labour organizations have taken divergent stances on China’s
official unions—some pointing to limited achievements such as securing
permission for union branches in Wal-Mart. What approach would you
recommend?
In my view, supposed gains such as in the case of Wal-Mart are largely
meaningless. The All-China Federation of Trade Unions pockets union dues
without providing the workforce with any bargaining power. It presents a
very convincing façade to organizations such as the International
Confederation of Free Trade Unions, but does not permit workers to speak
freely to foreign delegates. The official unions are not run for the
benefit of the workers. Their Western counterparts should really oppose
recognition of the acftu, and refuse to talk to them unless they allow
people independent trade union rights.
What role did China play in the wto negotiations at the Hong Kong
ministerial conference in 2005?
The most important factor allowing the Hong Kong meeting to advance
beyond the Doha round was the betrayal of small developing countries by
the G20 leaders, China, India and Brazil, who sacrificed the former’s
interests and made a compromise with the eu and us. Many Asian ngos and
delegates were reluctant to criticize China—as a ‘socialist’,
anti-imperialist state—but the position of the Chinese government was
completely clear: it would fully accept the Doha agenda, especially
non-agricultural market access and gatts, as long as a few token
concessions were made to developing countries to sweeten the pill. The
Trade Minister Bo Xilai said that ‘China enjoys comparative advantages
in low- to medium-end products. Therefore, China hopes to develop a new
market for herself.’ The Chinese delegation took part in all Green Room
negotiations, from which all but a handful of developing countries were
excluded. Those expecting China to defend their interests were sorely
disappointed.
Can you tell us more about the hkpa?
The hkpa was set up in 2004, and its backbone really came from the ctu
and its affiliates the Asia Monitor Resource Centre, the migrant workers
union, and /Globalization Monitor/. A range of other organizations also
participated—independent trade unions, migrant workers, sex workers,
student and community groups—but the Hong Kong branches of Greenpeace
stayed away, perhaps with one eye on their operations in China. The
migrant workers have been an especially strong component. Filipinos and
Indonesians working in Hong Kong can mobilize in far greater numbers
than local Chinese, which is rather shameful. It’s a very diverse
coalition, with around three dozen member organizations in total. In the
run-up to the wto Ministerial, the hkpa’s dozen-strong coordinating
committee linked together international and local mobilizations. The
latter remained small compared to the international delegations, at
least until the 18 December demonstration.
How did the protests against the 2005 wto Ministerial unfold?
We spent a year preparing for the Ministerial. Campaigning against free
trade in Hong Kong has been difficult—it has been a free port for 150
years, a status which has supposedly made it so prosperous. Thirty years
ago activism on this front would have been easier. Working conditions
were much harder, and people still remembered imperialist sponsorship of
the opium trade. We expected a cool reception, but the response has been
surprisingly positive, in part because of the educational work
/Globalization Monitor/ has done over the past few years. We are no
longer so isolated.
But it was the international support that was the most significant
element in the protests’ success. The fact that 2,000 Koreans would be
attending, including 150 delegates from the Korean Confederation of
Trade Unions and ten times that number from the Korean Peasants League,
was widely reported in the media. Attention was drawn to the plight of
Korean farmers, whose livelihoods had been destroyed by the wto. They
were fantastic, very organized and well drilled: the women beat their
drums at the back, and the men advanced on the police barricades as one.
The Koreans also won over local opinion by leafleting in Chinese, and
had banners written in Chinese proclaiming ‘Agriculture is the base of a
nation’.
On the very first day, 13 December, I was one of dozens of speakers at a
rally organized by the hkpa, and had just handed over to the next
speaker when the demonstration suddenly dispersed—everyone had rushed to
the waterfront to watch over a hundred Koreans jumping into the sea. The
police had no idea what to do. There were some skirmishes with the
police on 14 December. Then, on 15 December the Korean farmers did a
march involving one step forward and kneeling three times—a gesture to a
shared Confucian heritage that resonated with many Hong Kongese. Local
tv journalists interviewed members of the public, who generally
expressed sympathy for the farmers—their livelihoods are under threat,
they had to protest. Interestingly, the news coverage was rebroadcast in
South China, something local Chinese governments don’t generally do.
However, some of the local groups, as well as fishermen’s and farmers’
organizations from other countries, were not happy about this: the
Korean farmers deflected attention from demonstrations they had
organized, which were scarcely reported.
The ante was really raised on the 17th, when protestors—Koreans at the
forefront—broke through the police cordon and shut off the entire Wan
Chai district, where the Ministerial was being held. In the evening, the
police used tear gas on the crowds and made hundreds of
arrests—including Kang Ki Kab, a Korean mp who had accompanied his
countrymen; he was told by police to persuade them to retreat, but he
refused. A demonstration had been planned to coincide with the closing
ceremony the following day, but some of the hkpa’s leadership wanted to
cancel it, fearing police repression. Fortunately it went ahead, and
over 1,000 locals spontaneously joined in; some even sent food and
medicine to the Korean delegates. Altogether the demonstrations involved
around 8,000 people. Hong Kong residents had never seen confrontations
like this, which proved a great education for them.
What are the hkpa’s future plans?
After the anti-wto protests in 2005, it was agreed to hold a Hong Kong
Social Forum to discuss future strategies for mobilization in China. It
will involve the hkpa as well as some church groups and small unions,
but will be smaller in scale than the 2005 events. Still, we are
expecting a delegation of dozens of Korean farmers, with whom Hong Kong
organizations have forged good links after helping them with court cases
arising from the demonstrations last year. In general, exchanges between
Chinese and international activists will be crucial to our efforts in
the long term, and we are going to set up a bilingual website to
facilitate these debates. We are also discussing mobilizing around the
2008 Olympics, providing alternative information and critical thought on
China in the run-up to the Beijing games. We are in talks with other
groups about the idea of organizing a Workers Olympics, but the
authorities would clearly not allow such an event to go ahead. It is
hard to do even minor things in China. But we will keep trying.
[1] <http://newleftreview.org/?page=article&view=2647#_ednref1> Han
Deqiang, /The Crash—The Global Trap and China’s Realistic Choice/,
Pengzhuang 2000.
[2] <http://newleftreview.org/?page=article&view=2647#_ednref2> See Han
Dongfang, ‘Chinese Labour Struggles’
<http://www.newleftreview.org/A2571>, nlr 34, Sept–Oct 2005.