Yiyi Lu has a really interesting post on the Wall Street Journal Blog about the role of “contentious politics” in Chinese society. She looks at the dynamic local government authorities have used to deal with protests and dissent, ranging from suppression and jailing to bribery to assent to the demands. There is clearly a growing issue of so many protests taking place (87,000 in 2005, at which point the PRC stopped releasing these ever-increasing annual numbers to the public). The volume is so high that she reports the domestic public security budget is now $75.3 billion dollars annually, just below China’s annual defense budget.

As Yiyi points out, the current model is untenable. Government won’t work when it is arbitrary and there is no uniform rule of law in China. She concludes:

The establishment of the rule of law will require systemic changes to the Chinese polity, and it is uncertain when and how it will happen. Until it happens, the only thing the government can count on is that there will be ever more contentious politics for it to deal with, and they will be organised in ever more ingenious ways, in order to create as big ruckuses as possible.

Yes, there will be ruckus. And there isn’t any area that the Chinese government fears more than their citizenry. In the absence of uniform and just laws, there really is no other predictable reaction from the people of China. It’s a very simple situation of the government reaping what it has sown.

Hu Jia is one of China’s most prominent prisoners of conscience. He’s a thirty-six year old dissident who has fought for democratic reform, as well as advocacy for HIV/AIDS patients. He was thrown in jail in 2007 following his advocacy for Chinese peasants’ rights, though the technical charge was “the crime of inciting the overthrow of the state.” He’s most of the way through a three and a half year prison sentence, but a new blog post from his wife Zeng Jinyan reveals that he is incredibly sick and has a tumor on his liver that the Chinese authorities are refusing to allow him to be treated for. While Zeng’s post is heartbreaking to read, this passage about how Hu is passing his time in jail and uncompromising in his commitment to rights and democracy in China stands out.

The subscriptions to the magazines and newspapers that Hu Jia reads in prison come to most of his living expenses. He follows current events even more closely than we who live outside prison do. He asked me to make a contribution on his behalf for the Sichuan earthquake victims, to buy annual editions of books, to speak out for educational reform, and to cast a ballot for the election of Han Han as one of Time Magazines 100 most influential people. When he speaks with us, he speaks very mildly. The most something upsets him, such as solitary confinement or illness) the more lightly he speaks of it to us. This reassures us some, and makes us feel that his spirit has not been broken. I can go so far as to say with a teary smile, the disaster of prison has tempered both Hu Jia and myself. This tempering has made us more mature and steady.

As I wrote last week, the election of Han Han as Time Magazine’s second most influential person in the world is an incredible step forward in the push for change in China. That one of China’s most high-profile jailed dissidents would see the value of this magazine poll as a force for change is a testament to the importance of Han Han and dissident writers in the Chinese blogosphere. The internet is an incredibly powerful force for democracy and we are only beginning to see its power begin to become manifest in China.

Best of luck and best of health to Hu Jia for the duration of his prison sentence. I hope he’s reunited with his wife soon and he finds a more free China when he does.

Tencho Gyatso at the International Campaign for Tibet’s blog writes on the impact of the Kyegudo earthquake on the people in this uniquely Tibetan city and region:

The majority of Tibetans are simple folks; they ask for nothing much but they would like to live their lives as Tibetans. They would like to see the Dalai Lama once in their lifetime, most especially in moments of crisis and tragedy like now. They would like to lead lives of their own choice. They would like to have their monks and monasteries left intact and be accessible to them. They just want to be Tibetans. But they are now caught up in something beyond their control – the politics of greed and power are threatening to shift their ground again even as they mourn their losses. And in the midst of this, I wonder what kind of a new Kyegu will emerge from these ruins? Will there be some resemblance of the charming Tibetan town that was Kyegu, or will it become another faceless pre-fab Chinese town built on the ruins of a Tibetan gem?

Go read all of Tencho-la’s piece. It is a hallmark to what I’ve written about here before in the context of the Chinese colonization and occupation of Tibet – namely that the Tibetan cultural identity is in peril. The severity of the tragedy doesn’t change who Tibetans are, nor does it change what they want in their lives. Increased pressure and efforts by the Chinese government to destroy the Tibetan identity through the rebuilding of Kyegu will not have the effect they are looking for. You can’t force healing or mandate a resumption of normal life after a catastrophe like this, especially when the response has been so lacking from the Chinese government. If the Chinese government uses this earthquake as an excuse to try to fundamentally change Kyegu and its people, they will only succeed in missing an opportunity to show understanding, compassion, and actual benefit for Tibetans from their occupation. I don’t expect that the Chinese government will see repair and reconstruction through the lens of what Tibetans need or want and it is this reality that will likely contribute most heavily to the eventual end of China’s occupation of Tibet.