For foreign correspondents in China, the past week’s unrest in Tibet and neighbouring provinces is arguably the biggest story for almost 20 years. It is definitely proving the toughest to cover.
The pitfalls are enormous. Political sensitivities over Tibet can hardly be greater than in Olympics year. The two sides — the Chinese leadership in Beijing and the Dalai Lama’s government-in-exile in Dharamsala, India — are projecting vastly different interpretations of what is happening. Casualty figures, arrests, riot damage and paramilitary violence are all disputed.
The only way to be sure of anything is to see it with your own eyes. But even that has been impossible for most journalists most of the time.
Trouble has been breaking out hundreds of kilometres apart in an area roughly the size of Western Europe. Chasing the incidents is like racing from London to Zurich to Lisbon, while trying to dodge the police and avoid putting sources in danger at the same time.
Rugged mountain scenery provides the spectacular backdrop for the story, but creates a logistical nightmare. The roads are a greater risk than the riots and police. We have driven through a snowstorm, across an icy stream and through an area prone to rockfalls.
In seven days we have taken seven flights, been driven for 30 hours and covered a distance roughly equivalent to 10 times the length of Britain. Even so, most of the time I feel as if I should have been somewhere else.
Security restrictions have not helped. I have twice woken up before dawn to avoid checkpoints on six- to eight-hour journeys that ultimately ended in failure, when the police stopped me, found I was a journalist, and sent me back.
According to the Foreign Correspondents Club of China (FCCC), there have been at least 30 cases of interference by the authorities in the past week. Most times, it simply means being stopped by police at a checkpoint and sent back. But there have also been cases of journalists being detained for two hours (Canadian TV), having the hard drives of their computers searched (Newsweek) and being aggressively treated by paramilitaries with guns (Telegraph and The Associated Press).
Very little independently verified news has emerged from the controlled zones. There are a few notable exceptions, such as the text and video report that my colleagues Dan Chung and Tania Branigan were able to file of a demonstration in Xiahe last week. That area is now locked down.
The best-placed insider was James Miles of the Economist, who happened to be visiting Lhasa when the protests erupted. As far as the English-language world is concerned, he will play a significant part in writing the history of what happened. But perhaps the biggest scoop so far was the footage taken by two Canadian TV reporters — Steve Chao and Sean Chang — of a clash between Chinese police and Tibetan horsemen, monks and bikers in Hezuo, Gansu province.
To avoid unwanted attention by the authorities, reporters in China take many precautions. Because all passports are stamped with ”journalist” visas and all hotels must inform the local public security bureau when a correspondent is in town, it is better to check in very late and leave very early.
Because calls on regular phones are monitored, reporters buy pre-paid SIM cards if they want to talk to a source about a confidential issue. And because cellphones can be used as bugging and tracking devices, many journalists remove the batteries when they want to be sure no one is listening.
There is no doubt the government has blocked many websites to prevent people in China from seeing a critical view of its actions. But for me, the main technological problems have not been caused by cunning authorities but by dismal communications facilities in remote areas. Many hotels in such areas lack reliable internet connections. I have filed two stories from internet cafés, but even that is not always an option. In Linxia, there is a midnight curfew on internet cafes.
Having worked in China for more than four years I should be used to the inconveniences. They are usually a small price to pay for the privilege of covering one of the most compelling stories in the world. But what is galling is that this year was supposed to be different.
Ahead of the Olympics, the government promised that reporters would have full freedom to report on all aspects of China. There had been positive signs of change. Correspondents have been allowed to choose where they live (they used to be restricted to diplomatic compounds) and who they hire (they used to be obliged to recruit from the government’s diplomatic service bureau).
The FCCC, which has never been granted legal status, has pushed for a relaxation of travel movements. Encouragingly, the authorities introduced special Olympics regulations that eased travel controls. The obstruction of journalists in the past two weeks, however, has shown China only applies the new rules when it is convenient. — Â