News: Censorship Affects Families, Not Just Google’s Bottomline in China

Editor’s Note: The most difficult conversation about censorship
in China needs to be between Chinese themselves, not just the Chinese
government and U.S. corporations like Google. Eugenia Chien, a writer
and editor with New America Media says censorship caused an irreparable
rift across generations of her own family.

SAN FRANCISCO – In the uproar over Google’s Internet censorship in
China, some Chinese say the issue doesn’t affect them personally.

Just the opposite was true for me, growing up in Taiwan where
government censorship created a gulf between generations in our family.
Far from a cerebral discussion between activists and journalists,
censorship was personal issue for me – it created a house with secrets
that couldn’t be told.

After World War II Taiwan was ruled by mainland nationalists who did
not tolerate dissent from local Taiwanese. On Feb. 28, 1947, a police
shooting in Taipei escalated into riots. In the first – and last –
demonstration of Taiwanese self rule in that era, nationalists troops
killed up to 30,000 Taiwanese.

Among the victims in what is now known as the "228 Incident" were my grandfather’s friends.

After the Chinese Communist Revolution in 1949, the Nationalists
enacted martial law in Taiwan. Much in the same way that the Chinese
government censors topics such as Tiananmen Square and Tibet, the
Nationalist government of Taiwan repressed the 228 Incident in history
books. Two generations of Taiwanese — including my father and me —
were taught little about Taiwanese history. No one I knew seemed to
care.

Fearful that this information would bring retribution, my grandfather
kept silent for many years. A few years before he died, my grandfather
tried to tell my father about the 228 Incident, but because it was
censored in the media, textbooks and literature, my father refused to
believe him.

"I didn’t want to listen to him," my father later told me. "Our school
education made me very patriotic, so I had no interest in hearing about
that kind of criticism of the government at all."

The election of a pro-independence president in 2000 led to an active
effort to change textbooks in Taiwan and open discussion about
Taiwanese history. Only then did I realize how censorship had caused an
irreparable rift in my family.

I could imagine how disappointed my grandfather must have been when his
children did not believe him; how long he had to keep silent about one
of the biggest losses of his generation; how frustrating it must have
been to watch his children grow up believing in an ideology he knew to
be false; and how high a wall censorship can put between parent and
child.

"I didn’t let him talk," my father said. "I just couldn’t accept it. If
I had been interested or asked him questions, he would have wanted to
tell me more."

No one in my family was a political dissident, but government control
of information caused a rift in my family anyway. Criticism of
censorship in China from a Taiwanese like me might be easily dismissed.
But if an average family like mine – a middle-class family living an
otherwise stable life – can be as profoundly affected by censorship,
how many other families in China must have secrets from their past that
can’t be told?

The Chinese government encourages Chinese to put economic matters
first, says Xin Liu, an anthropology professor at the University of
California at Berkeley.

"The government says that we should try to think about economy and
development, and that after the economy gets to a certain level, we can
discuss political reform," Liu says.

"It’s true that people in rural China do not care about Internet
censorship because they have other economic concerns," says Yan
Sham-Shackleton, a Hong Kong-based blogger who writes extensively about
democracy. "However, it does not mean it’s not an issue."

“As for why some Chinese people will say it doesn’t affect them, other
than they are not telling the truth, is because they do not know what
it is like to be in a free country,” she says.

“Not having something you never had will never affect you,” she says.

My father can’t reverse time to discuss the 228 Incident with my
grandfather, but it is a topic that he and I can now freely discuss.
The most difficult battle over Internet censorship may not be between
U.S. corporations and the Chinese government, but between Chinese who
feel its impact in their personal lives and the ones who say it doesn’t
really affect them.

Editor’s Note: The most difficult conversation about censorship
in China needs to be between Chinese themselves, not just the Chinese
government and U.S. corporations like Google. Eugenia Chien, a writer
and editor with New America Media says censorship caused an irreparable
rift across generations of her own family.

SAN FRANCISCO – In the uproar over Google’s Internet censorship in
China, some Chinese say the issue doesn’t affect them personally.

Just the opposite was true for me, growing up in Taiwan where
government censorship created a gulf between generations in our family.
Far from a cerebral discussion between activists and journalists,
censorship was personal issue for me – it created a house with secrets
that couldn’t be told.

After World War II Taiwan was ruled by mainland nationalists who did
not tolerate dissent from local Taiwanese. On Feb. 28, 1947, a police
shooting in Taipei escalated into riots. In the first – and last –
demonstration of Taiwanese self rule in that era, nationalists troops
killed up to 30,000 Taiwanese.

Among the victims in what is now known as the "228 Incident" were my grandfather’s friends.

After the Chinese Communist Revolution in 1949, the Nationalists
enacted martial law in Taiwan. Much in the same way that the Chinese
government censors topics such as Tiananmen Square and Tibet, the
Nationalist government of Taiwan repressed the 228 Incident in history
books. Two generations of Taiwanese — including my father and me —
were taught little about Taiwanese history. No one I knew seemed to
care.

Fearful that this information would bring retribution, my grandfather
kept silent for many years. A few years before he died, my grandfather
tried to tell my father about the 228 Incident, but because it was
censored in the media, textbooks and literature, my father refused to
believe him.

"I didn’t want to listen to him," my father later told me. "Our school
education made me very patriotic, so I had no interest in hearing about
that kind of criticism of the government at all."

The election of a pro-independence president in 2000 led to an active
effort to change textbooks in Taiwan and open discussion about
Taiwanese history. Only then did I realize how censorship had caused an
irreparable rift in my family.

I could imagine how disappointed my grandfather must have been when his
children did not believe him; how long he had to keep silent about one
of the biggest losses of his generation; how frustrating it must have
been to watch his children grow up believing in an ideology he knew to
be false; and how high a wall censorship can put between parent and
child.

"I didn’t let him talk," my father said. "I just couldn’t accept it. If
I had been interested or asked him questions, he would have wanted to
tell me more."

No one in my family was a political dissident, but government control
of information caused a rift in my family anyway. Criticism of
censorship in China from a Taiwanese like me might be easily dismissed.
But if an average family like mine – a middle-class family living an
otherwise stable life – can be as profoundly affected by censorship,
how many other families in China must have secrets from their past that
can’t be told?

The Chinese government encourages Chinese to put economic matters
first, says Xin Liu, an anthropology professor at the University of
California at Berkeley.

"The government says that we should try to think about economy and
development, and that after the economy gets to a certain level, we can
discuss political reform," Liu says.

"It’s true that people in rural China do not care about Internet
censorship because they have other economic concerns," says Yan
Sham-Shackleton, a Hong Kong-based blogger who writes extensively about
democracy. "However, it does not mean it’s not an issue."

“As for why some Chinese people will say it doesn’t affect them, other
than they are not telling the truth, is because they do not know what
it is like to be in a free country,” she says.

“Not having something you never had will never affect you,” she says.

My father can’t reverse time to discuss the 228 Incident with my
grandfather, but it is a topic that he and I can now freely discuss.
The most difficult battle over Internet censorship may not be between
U.S. corporations and the Chinese government, but between Chinese who
feel its impact in their personal lives and the ones who say it doesn’t
really affect them.