Practical Digital Protection

Note: The self-study manuals developed under the name Practical Digital Protection will be hosted on RSDLmonitor while practicaldigitalprotection.com undergoes major re-design.


Practical Digital Protection is a full, self-study styled, manual on increasing the security and protection for those at risk in hostile environments. The manual identifies risks and solutions, and unlike other materials, is focused on behavioral measures and issues. Technological solutions is at best secondary.

For Win10 and Android systems, download this.

For OSX and iPhone, download this.

 

The English language version has been made available as reference. It is entirely based on the Chinese language version for mainland China. Other localized version differs, and may differ wildly, depending on the identified needs of the target group in those countries. Each localized version is developed together with lawyers, journalists, rights defenders and NGO workers in the relevant countries.

 

The solutions herein have been tested in the field, by both the producers of this manual, as well as by numerous members of the feedback group of lawyers, journalists and NGO workers who helped create this manual. It has been tested by technical forensics work, both short-term and long-term interrogations, utilization of torture, and beyond. There are no guarantees, but in hostile environment, well thought out behavior will serve you better than most technical solutions on offer.

 

The Introduction: Behavior-based Cybersecurity is a briefer document outlining basic behavior-related issues and methods to increase security and safety, i.e., how changes in behavior in how you use your computer and phone can increase the safety of yourself, your partners and sources.

For the Introduction, download this.

 

For more information, inquiries, or requests for assistance or training, contact Safeguard Defenders.

Early use of Forced TV Confessions against the New Citizens Movement

Through Safeguard Defenders (RSDLmonitor’s parent organization) release of Scripted and Staged (EN and CN versions here), on China’s use of Forced TV Confessions as a tool to undermine the right to a fair trial, and through the continued publication of more material on these televised confessions by RSDLmonitor, the collaboration of Chinese state-media with police has become clear. The release of a small database (CN edition here) on these Forced TV Confessions have further amplified the systematic nature of how state-media is used to broadcast, and often extract and produce, such televised confessions.

 

However, tentative research indicates that the use of broadcasting these forced confessions is far more rampant on local levels, through the use of regional or provincial TV stations. Because of this, RSDLmonitor is now releasing the testimony of one of the first victims of a Forced TV Confession on a provincial TV station since the rise of Xi Jinping and his policy of stronger CCP-control and use of media– that of Li Gang, a member of the New Citizens’ Movement.

 

Li Gang

Li Gang was one of several people detained in mid-2013, at the height of the New Citizens’ Movement (NCM), spearheaded by Xu Zhiyong. Li, like many other adherents of this movement was not a long-time activist or human rights defender, but, in his own words, ‘living a normal life’. Li is a university graduate, and was working in a big company in Beijing, living with his wife and son. He learned about the New Citizens’ Movement and the ideas behind it from reading about it online, and started becoming involved in the year prior to his detention and arrest. Li’s involvement meant sharing information online, organizing and participating in small dinner gatherings, making badges and posters, and taking to the streets to call for disclosure of assets for government officials.

 

When Li was detained on July 12, 2013, he could not have known that he was to become a propaganda pawn against the movement.

 

The text below is based on Li’s own writing, complemented with a Q&A session, translated into English and edited for readability.

 


 

Interrogations at Beijing Third Detention Center

I was detained in my house [in suburban Beijing] just before midnight, by more than a dozen police officers. It was July 12, 2013. After detaining me they took me to Beijing Third Detention Center. I knew later that Li Huanjun and Song Ze [two other NCM activists] had also been taken, I think from their homes but I’m not sure. [They, along with Xu Zhiyong, Ding Jiaxi, and many others, had been detained starting in late spring that year as part of an expanding attack against the movement].

 

They started trying to convince me to confess almost right away. First they wanted me to confess, to write a letter repenting. I refused since I had not broken any law, I was not a criminal. This, trying to make me confess and, soon after, to record a TV confession, would go on for months. With me, as it seems to have been with others, their main threat, the main way convince me, was to threaten my family. If I don’t go on TV, my son will suffer and be restricted in his education they would tell me. If I don’t [record a confession], they will give me the harshest penalty [length of imprisonment], and my son would be in middle school before I ever got out. Then they convinced my family to write me letters telling me to confess and make the TV recording. I received two or three such letters while in detention, handed to me by my interrogator during our interrogation sessions.

 

I could meet with my lawyers. I had two. One was forced to quit, and the other was busy, so in the end, during the six months, I think I meet them three or four times in total. In the meantime, police was working on getting me to confess.

 

There seems to have been mostly thieves in my cell, and most of Beijing Third Detention Center. The cell was small, some 3×7 meters, but 2×7 of that was taken up by the beds, was just a narrow path for any movement or activity. They had an activity space of course, but could only visit a few times a week. Daily life, when not including interrogations, was merely eating, sleeping, sitting. In the evenings we could watch two hours of CCTV newscast and BTV (Beijing TV).

 

Unbeknownst to Li, Xu Zhiyong himself had been taken and placed into the same detention facility, just four days after Li himself. Years later, and after several years of imprisonment, Xu would write:

 

“The cell in Beijing’s No. 3 Detention Center was already prepared. It was specially set up the day before. There were twelve people in the cell; except for me, everyone else were theft suspects. The vast majority of the more than 400 people detained in the No. 3 Detention Center were there for allegedly stealing mobile phones on public buses.” Unlike with Li however, no one was allowed to call Xu by his name. He was given the codename 706 instead.

[https://chinachange.org/2018/09/16/four-years-afar/]

 

About five month in I was ready to give up, they started to convince me I needed to make the confession video. At this point I think I had been interrogated about 50 times. The interrogations took place in another room inside the same detention center. Always two interrogators present. The main interrogator, from Haidian district in Beijing, was Zhu Zhengbin (朱征斌), the other guy was Wang Jun (王君). It seems Wang was a special case officer, involved not only in my case but in the cases of all the others that had been detained related to the New Citizens’ Movement.

 

Some of those times interrogations would last eight to nine hours, sitting handcuffed to an iron chair [tiger chair]. Everything would start with me writing a letter confessing, repenting. No recording could be done until the letter was ok. Based on our interrogations, they would tell me to write a draft, after which they would check it, point out what was missing, and ask me to change and make another draft. Over and over. What I wrote had to follow what they wanted, completely.

 

Not surprisingly, they would ask me about my connection with Xu Zhiyong and Ding Jiaxi, two people seen as leaders of the movement. They wanted to use me to attack Xu, in video or in trial. Neither Xu nor Ding ever confessed, they never made a video. They are stronger than me, more insistent. Many times they would ask about the smallest things, or even about philosophy, or how I understood “Free, Righteous, Loving”, a slogan used in the movement.

 

When I talked with my other cell mates, they didn’t think it be worth going to prison for a long time just to not make a confession on video. “We stole phones, we did what we did for money, but you, what did you do this for?” They thought nothing should be more important than getting out. They might also have had some selfish reasons for saying it of course, like letting me pass along messages to their families when I was released, but I could feel their support. I couldn’t talk with my family, and it seemed no one was paying attention to me. It felt hopeless. After five month or so, I decided to do it. I said Yes.

 

Recording a confession

The recording was made in the interrogation room inside the facility. The interrogators were there, but also a journalist. He [the journalist] looked nervous. He was from Beijing TV (BTV). In the end, he didn’t ask any questions, that was all done by the police. They journalist must have known he was doing something dirty, something that wasn’t right. Most of the time was just me reading from the confession letter I had memorized.

 

Even though the video I appeared in is 10 minutes long or so, recording it all took three recordings over two days. In the first session, police would record with a smaller camera. They then showed the journalist, who would give feedback. The police would talk with the journalist about if it “would work”. I didn’t understand it then, but seeing the editing they did afterwards, I now realize they meant, can we use this recording to edit as we want. The journalist told the police how he could make the video in such a way to make it easy to edit afterwards. After this, the journalist would set up and use the proper BTV camera to record it.

 

Before each recording session, the interrogator would restate the same point, that I needed to do this, say this, achieve this.

 

During this time, without Li being aware, police had been working to get Li’s main target, Xu Zhiyong, to make such a recorded confession as well. Xu later wrote:

 

“[They] urged me to “admit my mistakes.” The meaning was very clear: if I surrendered, I could go home, but if I didn’t capitulate, I’d be facing 10 years or more, and there would be more than one criminal charge. Think about your family… How did they want me to acknowledge them? It must be done in front of the media. A TV confession.”

 

Xu refused and went to prison instead.

[https://chinachange.org/2018/09/16/four-years-afar/]

 

 

Seeing your own confession on TV

One of my reasons with making the confession recording was that it would require them to let me speak about the New Citizens’ Movement, and maybe even use video from one of the rallies. After seeing the video I realized they edited away any direct mention of the movement, anything related to officials disclosing their assets, etc. In some case, when I said “not good”, they would even edit out the “not”, changing the meaning to the exact opposite! They would edit anything to their wish, and of course, would edit to make it look like I placed all responsibility on Xu as the organizer, even when I didn’t.

 

The video is not even available on BTV anymore, but you can find it online. Watching closely, it’s not very coherent. They edited it so much, and went to such length to hide the meaning behind what we were doing, what our banners called for, what the New Citizens’ Movement was about, that in the end, it didn’t make for a coherent video.

 

The months before agreeing to do it, I felt a very intense struggle, an ideological struggle almost. In the end, I did the video, based on my situation inside detention and the pressure on my family. I wasn’t as strong as some others, like Xu. I thought I would lose face making the video, but I also thought I could show what we were all about, what the New Citizens’ Movement was about, by making the confession. After seeing how they edited it all, I realized I was very wrong.

 

Most of my friends seems to understand the confession, why I made it, especially those others taken and detained in relation to my case. In the human rights community people talk [gossip about those who detained or who appears in TV confessions], but I think those not willing to confess tend to be those that get a lot of attention and support. Not people like me. I wasn’t a leader. I couldn’t get support from the human rights lawyer community, or that kind of attention.

 

The confession on TV did of course have some effect on me, but I was not a professional activist or a famous human rights defender. I only ever attended these events and types of gatherings because I wasn’t very happy with the government. I was, and is, just a normal citizen. I guess in the end they wanted someone like me to go on TV to tell the ‘regular audience’ about the danger of trying to protest, and to also threaten the human rights community about what could happen if you challenged the government.

 

Seeing other confessions, and how people react to them, I can see many people don’t understand. Like the confession of Gao Yu [famous journalist]. I admired her for a long time, but the police charged her with leaking state security, and mobilized people against her because of that. That kind of charge is very effective to smear someone. Or like Wang Yu. They showed a video of her quarrelling with a judge, but never showed anything else, easily giving people a wrong impression. I think these videos do work, for now, but in the end, with more and more time, and more and more confessions, people will start to see through these confessions.

 

Statement on rejection of appeal by Tashi Wangchuk

Statement on rejection of appeal for Tashi Wangchuk, by Safeguard Defenders, Human Rights Watch, PEN America, Free Tibet, Human Rights in China, International Service for Human Rights, International Tibet Network, and Tibet Society UK.


23 August 2018
China blocks release of jailed Tibetan rights activist Tashi Wangchuk

We are appalled to learn today that a Chinese court has rejected the appeal of imprisoned Tibetan language advocate Tashi Wangchuk. [1] This once again demonstrates that the Chinese Communist Party and justice system are content, before the eyes of the world, to force an innocent man to endure prison despite him never having committed a crime. The decision is an affront to justice and a wasted opportunity for Beijing to have reversed some of the damage it has done.

Having had his appeal rejected, Tashi Wangchuk will have been returned to prison, where he is scheduled to remain until 2021. We are committed to continue pushing for his immediate and unconditional release. We urge all those governments and UN mechanisms who have expressed concern about his case to accelerate their calls for his release and to make strenuous efforts to visit Tashi in prison.

Despite having committed no recognisable crime under Chinese or international law, Tashi Wangchuk has so far spent over two and a half years behind bars. During this time, he has become one of Tibet’s most high-profile prisoners, with Tibetans, Tibet campaigners, human rights organisations, United Nations experts, linguists, and governments all calling for his release.

His case was most recently raised by the United Nations Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination in August, when experts present once again pressed Chinese officials for an explanation for his arrest. The delegation responded by claiming that Tashi Wangchuk was arrested due to “inciting separatism”.

 

Statement signed by (in alphabetical order)
Free Tibet
Human Rights in China
Human Rights Watch
International Service for Human Rights
International Tibet Network
PEN America
Safeguard Defenders
Tibet Society UK

 

Background Information to Tashi Wangchuk’s case:
Tashi Wangchuk was arrested in January 2016. Prior to his arrest he had carried out a peaceful campaign to urge the Chinese government to ensure that every Tibetan had access to education in their native Tibetan language.

Tashi Wangchuk is a 33-year old Tibetan shopkeeper and language advocate from Kyegundo County in the Kham region of Tibet (Ch: Yushu Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, Qinghai Province). He became concerned over the lack of Tibetan-language education when local authorities forced local Tibetan language classes to close, leaving his two teenage nieces with no means of learning their native tongue.

He spoke with the New York Times in late 2015 about his attempts to promote the teaching of Tibetan, resulting in a news article and a video documentary on the New York Times website. [2] He insisted the interview be on the record, despite the tight restrictions on freedom of speech in occupied Tibet.

He also emphasised that his language advocacy was non-political and that he did not wish to criticise the Chinese government or call for Tibetan independence. His attempts to persuade the Chinese government to guarantee Tibetan language instruction were conducted through official channels and were focused on ending the decline of the Tibetan language and the threat this posed to Tibetan culture. Nevertheless, in January 2016 he was arrested and held in secret. While in detention Tashi Wangchuk was isolated from his family and subjected to torture and ill-treatment.

Tashi Wangchuk did not stand trial until January 2018, almost two years after he was first arrested. During his trial, which took place behind closed doors, the New York Times documentary was screened. On 22 May 2018 he was found guilty of “inciting separatism” and sentenced to five years in prison, which included the time he served in arbitrary detention.

Tashi Wangchuk is one of a number of Tibetans who have been convicted of “inciting separatism” and other vaguely worded state security laws that the occupying Chinese authorities routinely use against Tibetans. This occurs, despite the fact that the rights for ethnic minorities are guaranteed by Chinese law, [3] [including the right to use their own language.

There are an estimated 2,000 Tibetans political prisoners who remain in jail, [4] many of them for exercising their rights to freedom of expression, their cultural and religious rights, sending information about human rights abuses to the outside world and other acts which are protected under international law.

 

Notes
1. Liang Xiaojun tweeted: “The second instance of Tashi Wangchuk’s case was announced in Yushu City Detention Center on 13th August. His family was not allowed to hear the sentence. The adjudication from Qinghai High Court was received recently, and both the argument from Tashi Wangchuk himself and the defending statement from the lawyers were not accepted at all. The second instance has upheld the same sentence. After the trial, Tashi Wangchuk was allowed to meet his family.” https://twitter.com/liangxiaojun/status/1032466215036284928?s=21
2. https://www.nytimes.com/video/world/asia/100000004031427/a-tibetans-journey-for-justice.html
3. https://www.cecc.gov/resources/legal-provisions/regional-ethnic-autonomy-law-of-the-peoples-republic-of-china-amended
4. http://www.tchrd.org/tchrd_pdb/prisoners-database/

 

Forced TV Confessions database

Following China’s continued use of Forced TV Confessions, most recently with journalist Chen Jieren and his brothers, and the increasingly political nature of those cases where these confessions are forced out of victims, and following Safeguard Defenders groundbreaking report on the reality behind these TV appearances, RSDLmonitor is now making available its full database on Forced TV Confessions, going back to 2013 – the year these TV appearances started becoming institutionalized as part of the government’s attack on lawyers, journalists, and rights defenders.

Download full database (excel file): FC Database 2018-08-17

 

Any entry/case into this database marked with blue highlight indicates detailed information, either as a testimony or as part of extensive interview with the victim, can be found in ‘Scripted and Staged‘ or other material on RSDLmonitor website. This does not include many interviews done with people in this database conducted anonymously. Those marked in purple indicates detailed information or testimony exist, and is being prepared for release with Safeguard Defenders next book, set for release in October, on China’s use of Forced TV Confessions, the media’s role as collaborates in gross human rights violations, and the current and planned expansion of Chinese party-controlled media internationally. Check back with RSDLmonitor in September for more information on the upcoming book, our second book following ‘The People’s Republic of the Disappeared‘, the book that exposed the RSDL system and which received widespread acclaim.

 

Legend to reading the spreadsheet

Main confessor or target. In most cases, the name of the main confessor of any specific broadcast, sometimes more than one person. On a few occasions, the main target is ‘off-screen’, for example “709 lawyers”, Guo Wengui, or Taiwanese Telecom fraud case).

Supporting confessor. People used to attack the Main confessor or off-screen target.

Setting. Jailhouse or Neutral. The setting in which the victim is displayed. Use of neutral setting being more common for political cases, and also being a trend in that neutral setting has become more common over time.

Victim. HRD being ‘political cases’, Media for writers, journalists or bloggers, with ‘Other’ denoting those accused of regular crimes – drug use, bribery, murder, etc.

Legal status when FC. Where in judicial process the victim was in at time of broadcast. Most TV confessions take place when people are either in detention or in RSDL – before being arrest.

Sentence or Imprisonment. Whether the person was actually sentenced for the crime. In many cases, people are not. In some cases, people are sentenced for different crime than the one they admitted to during their Forced TV Confession.

Other categories are self-explanatory. Any empty field indicates the information is not available.

 

 

 

New Report: from CENTRAL CONTROL to NATIONAL SUPERVISION

A new report – the most extensive information presented – on the new National Supervision Commission, the law it’s based on, and the custodial system for detention it establishes – Liuzhi – now out.

 

Founded in early 2018, the National Supervision Commission (NSC) and its corresponding detention system, Liuzhi, remains concerningly opaque. However, based on what is known about its predecessor, the Shuanggui system, and about Residential Surveillance at a Designated Location (RSDL), both of which Liuzhi is based on, some clarity on what to be expected with the implementation of the National Supervision Commission can be offered.

Download the report as pdf: from CENTRAL CONTROL to NATIONAL SUPERVISION

 

The target group of potential victims has been massively enlarged, well beyond the party member-only system under Shuanggui and the limited number of crimes permitting RSDL. The creation and implementation of such a system stands to change a fundamental aspect of governance in China. The fact that China is pioneering multiple custodial systems targeting increasingly broad demographics, in a manner that often amounts to enforced disappearances, arguably means that China will utilize enforced disappearance on a scale never before seen. Considering several countries are in the process of discussing extradition treaties with China, understanding the NSC becomes even more important.

The report draws on extensive research on RSDL previously carried out by Safeguard Defenders, and analysis of illustrative higher profile cases of Shuanggui to project what can likely be expected. This report, therefore, functions as a briefing paper on the new system.

 

RSDL round-up for June

This is a monthly round-up of all news related to Residential Surveillance at a Designated Location (RSDL) in China. It includes updates on victims, legal developments and commentary on China’s legalized practice of “Enforced Disappearances.”

June 4 Tiananmen anniversary

Political re-education in Xinjiang

Forced confessions: Vietnam and Gui Minhai

709 update: Wang Yu’s passport, lawyers’ licenses and new movie on 709 wives

 

June 4 Tiananmen anniversary

This month, June 4 marked 29 years since the Tiananmen Square crackdown. Despite heavy rains, more than 100,000 people in Hong Kong remembered the massacre at the annual candlelight vigil. A growing localist sentiment meant that some student groups snubbed the memorial, arguing democracy on the mainland wasn’t their main concern. In Taiwan, President Tsai Ing-wen used the anniversary to call on China to embrace democracy: “if China could face up to what had happened it could become the bedrock for China’s own democratic transformation,” she wrote. Beijing was having none of it and rather nastily responded: “Taiwan should stop harping on about the same old thing.”

Naturally, China itself did not acknowledge the event, but families of the victims, the Tiananmen Mothers, sent an open letter to Xi Jinping asking him for the Party to accept responsibility for what happened in 1989. They wrote: “Our Chinese Dream is that the June Fourth tragedy will receive a clear accounting, and that justice will be done.”

And over at Global Voices, an interesting article uses the anniversary to ask the question: Who are China’s political prisoners? Around 1,000 were behind bars in 2017; over the years about 2/3 have been men, and a staggering half have been Tibetans.

 

Political re-education in Xinjiang

While the mass disappearances of Uighurs in Xinjiang into re-education camps continues, Chinafile invited scholars to offer suggestions on how the world should deal with what is “arguably the most serious human rights violation in China since the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown.” The consensus was a tough response: vocal criticism, naming and shaming, and sanctions (including using the Magnitsky Act). “[Xinjiang Party Secretary] Chen Quanguo is a clear example of exactly whom the Magnitsky Act was designed to target: an individual who is leading the incarceration of hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of citizens simply because of their religious beliefs.” Foreign companies that assist this human rights violation can also be targeted. Heinz, for example, that sources tomatoes from Xinjiang for its ketchup: “will have to determine how much their products contribute to the maintenance of the totalitarian police state in Xinjiang.”

While there is still no official recognition of the campaign, RFA continues to trace numbers of people disappeared, village by village. In Qaraqash county, a local official said almost half of the 1,700 households had been rounded up into camps – which amounted to almost all the adult men. The official said they were following a directive that targets Uighurs “born in the 1980s and 1990s as ‘members of an unreliable and untrustworthy generation’.”

The key western scholar working on the re-education policy, Adrian Zenz, took two interviews this month. He talked with us here and Deutsche Welle here.

 

Forced confessions: Vietnam airs TV confession, Swedish press call for Gui Minhai release

In a chilling reminder that the rights abuses of China are so easily spread to its authoritarian neighbours, Vietnam aired the apology and confession of a detained US citizen on television. Speaking in Vietnamese, William Nguyen, a second-generation Vietnamese American who had been arrested at anti-China protests a week before, said: “”I understand that my acts violated the law I regret that I caused trouble for people heading to the airport.” The video of the confession is around 0:15 in, here.

Efforts to release detained Swedish citizen, Gui Minhai (桂敏海), who was made to appear in three forced confessions in China, continue. In early June, dozens of Swedish newspapers called for his release in an article published in 37 major newspapers and signed by Swedish scholars, journalists, politicians and actors. You can read the article here (in Swedish). The Diplomat made the observation that this move by the Swedish press illustrates just how passive the Swedish government has been in pushing for Mr. Gui’s release.

 

709 update: Wang Yu denied passport, more lawyers lose licenses, and new movie on 709 wives

China has again refused to give Lawyer Wang Yu (王宇) a passport – it was confiscated when she was detained back in July 2015 and never returned to her. Her husband Bao Longjun (包龙军) said: “They said they couldn’t process her passport application for reasons of national security.” Travel bans are frequently used to control former political detainees. For Lawyer Wang it means she is unable to visit her teenage son who is studying in Australia.

China has now formally revoked the licenses of three 709 lawyers  (in Chinese): Wen Donghai (文东海), Li Heping (李和平) and Yang Jinzhu (杨金柱) have now officially had their licences suspended. This ChinaChange article from May gives a run-down of 709 lawyers who are still being harassed by the authorities.

Two Hong Kong journalists have made a second film about the 709 Crackdown, released to mark the third anniversary of the event next month. The two-hour documentary, 709 The Other Shore, by Lo King-wah and Kong King-chu, focuses on 12 activists, lawyers and wives who fled into exile to escape harassment in China. Two of those who appear in the film are Jin Bianling (金變玲) , wife of rights lawyer Jiang Tianyong (江天勇) and Chen Guiqiu (陈桂秋), wife of rights lawyer Xie Yang (谢阳).

 

Adrian Zenz speaks about mass disappearances in Xinjiang

In recent months news that China is rounding up Muslims (mostly Uighurs) en masse in its northwestern Xinjiang region to political re-education camps has shocked many, although the story is still massively under-reported. It is estimated that hundreds of thousands of people have been disappeared in a campaign with absolutely no due process. Victims can be held indefinitely. No one is safe. Even Uighur celebrities – a footballer and a pop singer – have been snatched.

Dr. Adrian Zenz is one of several scholars hunting down information on this secretive practice. He uses local government documents – construction bids, job listings, and other official postings – to piece together what is going on. Recently he talked with RSDLmonitor about what he has found out so far.

 

Q:  What knowledge do you have of Residential Surveillance at a Designated Location (RSDL) in Xinjiang?

I don’t think there’s been any information on that. Which, of course, does not indicate an absence, just at least I have not heard about it.

 

Q: What is the legal status of the re-education camps in Xinjiang?

I’m not entirely sure. There is, of course, this ordinance [by the Xinjiang government, that came into force in April 2017]. This ordinance mandates the use of the “de-extremification (去极端化) measures” including re-education (教育转化). The document specifically mentions these but does not go into any detail. This is probably the most direct document of a legal nature that would speak into that. I would add that there is an existing system of re-education that was established, for example, to treat Falun Gong practitioners, and there is the existing coerced detoxification system for drug addicts. [Both have been around for several decades].

From what we can see in Xinjiang, re-education is taking a whole new number of shapes and forms. To an extent, it’s tucked onto existing facilities and systems but it’s also had outcroppings of its own nature. By extension, the de-extremification measures which have been mandated, I am sure, give legal leeway for political re-education. A lot of this can be interpreted broadly – the Chinese don’t necessarily stipulate all the details, and they do this on purpose, because if there are broad statements, it gives the authorities a lot of leeway.

There’s also the anti-terrorism law. Article 38 [of that] comes closest to a legal provision for extrajudicial re-education in Xinjiang. It stops short of mentioning that this may take place under internment-like conditions and for longer times, therefore pertaining more to pre-2017 style re-education.

The authorities, if they wanted, could probably try and construe some kind of legal umbrella [for the camps]. But I don’t think they feel the need.

 

Q: RSDL facilities are run by the police. Who runs Xinjiang’s re-education camps?

It is typically under the police or PSB ( 公安局) or the legal system, the justice bureau (司法局) also run some of the facilities — they are indicated as the host agency in a number of bids. And I believe that’s also consistent with how the former re-education through labour (劳教) was run. I think it’s been inherited from that.

 

Q: Who has oversight over how these places are run?

Good question. I’m not sure how much I’ve looked into this question. Of course, some of this is attached to the prison system. One document [in Chinese] from the Urumqi Party School, gives some context in how the centres are located.

I think there’s probably not a consistent body of oversight precisely because some of these things take different contexts. Some are extensions of criminal detention centres or police training centres and of course the detention system is under the oversight of the legal system. In some cases there have been reports where these detention centres themselves function in a re-education like setting, while they are waiting for their case to be decided. It’s a very messy situation.

 

Q: Are inmates to these centres dressed in prison clothing/have their heads shaved?

The official documentation that I’ve analysed does not discuss this, but in the recent AP piece by Gerry Shih, it does speak about wearing different colours.

 

The police then sent Bekali to a 10 by 10m(32- by 32-foot) cell in the prison with 17 others, their feet chained to the posts of two large beds. Some wore dark blue uniforms, while others wore orange for political crimes. Bekali was given orange. [AP]

 

And that’s almost the first time I’ve read about this. I think for this kind of information we have to rely on eye witness accounts. However, I would caution that this is very likely to be highly inconsistent. As I have said before, re-education takes places in different facilities in different contexts: it’s a huge system, it’s grown very rapidly. But the one thing I can say is that, for example, in the construction contracts, the tenders, the governing authorities are almost always the PSB or the justice bureau.

 

Q: Do we have any access to the teaching materials that are used in these camps?

No. I have not seen any document that shows the actual content – only reports – as cited in my report – that talk about the curriculum but not showing the actual curriculum.

 

Q: Do we find any evidence that these camps are also located outside Xinjiang, say for example in Tibet or other Muslim areas such as Ningxia?

Not specifically in this context. Like in Tibetan areas, typically, from anecdotal evidence that I’ve heard in the past some 10 years ago – so this is not current information – it basically occurs in the regular prison and detention centres. I don’t think you have a re-education network in Tibetan areas.

What you do have of course are [maybe] the existing Laojiao (劳动教育) facilities which were often converted into detoxification centres after the system was abolished in 2013 (this happened in Beijing). You don’t really know what is going on.

 

Q: How is the re-education system changing in Xinjiang?

In Xinjiang the system is so different because it’s not really being targeted any more. It used to target so-called extremists, but now the system is trying to round up entire percentages of the population, and that’s the reason why they’re having to use all kinds of facilities, and build new ones, convert existing ones, and it’s also the reason why there’s no consistent practice, because they themselves are being overwhelmed.

 

Q: What do they look like inside? Are there any religious facilities?

You can be sure that there are no facilities for praying. If they are praying, they will be punished. There are most certainly no rooms for prayer. If you look at the table of 73 bids that I have in my report — that’s about what I would be able to tell you – we see a lot of facilities for long-term stay, we see dormitories, we see dining halls, we see sanitary facilities – toilets bathrooms — we see teaching buildings, we see police rooms, guard rooms, or separate stations.  Some are larger compounds that have different things, some have fire stations, one had a hospital and supermarket, although that might be an exception, we don’t know. Some have detention and re-education centres in the same compound, it might be for different purposes, there’s a great deal of variation but there’s usually a sleeping facility, eating facility and teaching facility.

Satellite image of a re-education camp in Makit, Xinjiang. Credit: Shawn Zhang.

Q: What do people who are allowed to leave do?

I’ve seen reports of some people who returned to their original place and said nothing, absolutely nothing about what happened. There’s this one media report that I cite in my report that talks about some of them being assigned to vegetable planting, and then others were given money to buy vegetables from them to help them have a livelihood. For some they are just training to take people away from the countryside – farmers, or people who do seasonal work – they try to get them out of that and into wage labour work – jobs in factories. That’s a big program that’s being run.

The state basically sees southern Xinjiang as a big problem area and a concentration of difficult-to-control populations. They want people in regular wage jobs and also in different places in Xinjiang where they are under much more control and in very non-religious settings. They want people to secularize and to modernize.

 

Q: Can this really win the hearts and minds of the people in Xinjiang?

I would say firstly that this type of re-education is a classic ingredient of Communism. Communism is all about ideological change and especially away from religion — which is thought to be opium for the masses. It’s a classic and has basically been used by all Communist regimes. It’s a belief that you can change a person and liberate them… I think the particular combination of communism and Chinese culture is particularly potent in thinking that this can actually be done and that there’s determination. Yes, there’ll be some cost on the way but in the end, I think they generally believe this will work.

 

Q: Do you think it will work?

[laughs!] Well, define work!

I think a side effect of this is that a good number of Uighurs will become very cautious about anything religious; they will become extremely intimidated about what they will do. They will try to stay out of trouble and on the surface it may seem to “work”. But the long-term cost is quite evident, I think, some people for sure will be turned towards extremism – who would otherwise have not become extremist – the long-term cost I am very sure is that it will make things much worse than if it had never been done.

 

Q: How about Hui ethnic group? (the other main Muslim group)

There’s very little information about the Hui in Xinjiang. For example, in public recruitment notices, the Hui are often very similarly treated to the Han – traditionally, they’re considered a non-problem. The Hui do publicly practice their religion, and any practice of Islam in Xinjiang is a problem, so in that way they may be caught up more in it than in the past. There’s very little detail on that.

We don’t have [any information if Hui are being held] but we can suspect that anyone who practices their religion quite actively, goes to a mosque, owns a Koran will be caught up. These regulations of course apply in general. So even though there might have been more leeway with the Hui in the past from everything that I have seen, I have my feelings that this leeway has shrunk considerably.

 

Q: When will this end?

If you look at the construction bids, there definitely was a peak in construction and these facilities are now being used. There is some extension also some vocational training – like a continuum of re-education, so some expansion is still happening, though not as rapid as last year. So currently, there’s no end in sight.

But a lot of these people are not being released. I know several people who have been taken … some over a year. It’s very inconsistent and there’s no telling when people will be released or when the campaign will be over. I think they are taking a long-term perspective on this, they are looking for a real definitive solution to this Uighur question, they want to settle it once and for all. That’s what it seems to me. And if it takes 3-5 years, that’s nothing for them.

 

The evolving nature of China’s public confessions

While attention for the past few years has been focused on the shocking footage of pre-trial detainees being forced to confess on China’s state broadcaster CCTV, including that of many foreigners, China has been opening up new forms of forced public confessions. This can only be interpreted as an attempt to normalize and popularize the forced public confession in China despite it being reminiscent of the excesses of the Mao era and a stark move away from any pretense at a rule of law.

 

Confessions are being disseminated across a number of platforms from court Weibo accounts to TV entertainment programs. The most typical confessions reported on have been the Forced TV Confessions before trial (and often before formal arrest). Our report Scripted and Staged: behind the scenes of China’s forced confessions provides by far the most comprehensive information on this phenomenon (we just released a full Chinese translation of that report here.)

 

Confessions are king in China

Confessions have a long history dating back to the imperial age, even more so, so they lie at the core of control in Communist China both for furthering the political grip and in ideological reform. A discussion on this can be read here and here.

 

One thing of note is that the re-emergence of public confessions — especially in their new form of televised and online dissemination — has coincided with the rise of Xi Jinping. In tandem, the legal system has also undergone an overhaul to massively legalise what would formerly have been extra-legal detentions. The two new systems are  RSDL and liuzhi. Many of those who were forced to give TV confessions were held in RSDL. These confessions are suspended in an area midway between the legal and the propaganda systems.

Emerging forms of public confession:

Courtroom confessions

Corrupt officials (TV miniseries)

Televised interviews

Social media

Manipulated video

 

Courtroom confessions

China’s first televised courtroom confession was the trial of the Gang of Four in 1980 in which Mao’s wife, Jiang Qing (江青), did the opposite of a confession – she accused the court of putting Chairman Mao and the Cultural Revolution on trial, hurled abuse at the court, called Chinese leaders fascists and revisionists and dared them to chop off her head.

 

 

Such theatrics are rare these days, instead televised portions of courtroom procedures are typically used to showcase the repentance and confession of the defendant. These are often initially broadcast (edited clips) on the court’s Weibo, or the court’s webpage and excerpts may be later aired on state TV.

 

Some of the more notable ones in recent years have been:

 

Their “confessions” are worded in a remarkably similar fashion to those of the pre-trial detainee confessions. For example, Mr. Lee expressed remorse, thanked his prosecutors, and said he has seen the error of his ways. Because Mr. Lee is Taiwanese there was an extra element to this confession, a “message” to Taiwan from the CCP, an expression of support for cross-strait reunification from Mr. Lee’s lips. A sentiment that Mr. Lee, a pro-democracy activist, is highly unlikely to have made without being coerced.

 

The short clip of the trial of another victim of the 709 Crackdown, activist Wu Gan (吴淦), illustrates what the CCP has to resort to do when its prisoners resist.  Mr. Wu (who like Mr. Zhou was given a closed-door trial) refused to confess, and even according to his lawyer gave sarcastic thanks to the court for his sentencing. In the short clip that was released, we don’t see Mr. Wu speak, he just stands there, while the judges make their statements.

 

The televising of courtroom proceedings has a legal foundation, and appears to have really started in earnest around 2013 (although live broadcasts began back in 1998) and at about the same time as the pre-trial TV confession launched onto the scene and Xi Jinping became secretary general of the CCP. According to the People’s Courtroom Rules (Amendment 2015):

In any of the following situations, for trial activities that are conducted openly in accordance with law, the people’s courts may use television, the internet or other public media to broadcast or record images, audio or videos. (1) a high degree of public concern; (2) a larger social influence; (3) the value for legal publicity and education is quite strong. (Translation: China Law Translate).

Some trials are uploaded to a centralized website tingshen.court.gov.cn, which is surprisingly user friendly for a Chinese official website. It features a map of China, where the provinces/regions/municipalities are clickable to home in on the courthouse of one’s choice. The islands in the South China Sea and Taiwan are in there for good measure, but (as yet) not clickable.

While the number of broadcast trials may sound huge, 45,000 in 2013, that’s only a tiny fraction of the millions of cases heard throughout the year.

Corrupt officials

At about the same time as the pre-trial TV confessions were in full swing, CCTV began airing the confessions of CCP officials who were serving their sentences or had been charged with crimes of corruption. In October 2016, the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection (CDIC) partnered with CCTV to make Always on the Road (永遠在路上), an eight-part TV series. The black-and-white slick broadcast gives officials screen-time to repent and many broke down in tears. The series was also uploaded to the CDIC website.

While Always on the Road is flashier with post-production effects and music, there are parallels with the televised confessions studied in Scripted and Staged – they both feature the confessor being escorted by the police, signing a confession, and expressions of repentance. Their confessions focus on introspective self-criticisms, statements of regret and apologies to the CCP.

At the end of the miniseries, the People’s Daily published a poll asking people whose confession was the best?

 

Televised interviews

One of the key purposes of the televised confessions of detainees was to use their “confession” to denounce others. Even when the individual is free, they can be pressured with threats of being detained again or their family being harmed, to appear on television and denounce others.

For example in August 2016, rights lawyer Zhang Kai (张凯) said he was forced to appear on Phoenix TV to voice support for the trials of key 709 Crackdown lawyers — Zhou Shifeng (周世), Hu Shigen (胡石根) and Zhai Yanmin (翟岩). Later, Zhang used his Weibo account to say: “My elderly parents were living in fear and worry during the six months of detention in which I was held in darkness. [I was] powerless to resist the pressure imposed by a strong regime.”

One of the Hong Kong booksellers, Lee Bo (李波), also appeared on Phoenix TV after he had been released from detention in China to say that he had not been abducted by Chinese agents from Hong Kong and that he was considering giving up his British passport in an interview that many consider forced and untrue.

 

 

 

Social media

Weibo and WeChat, China’s two biggest social media platforms, have also emerged as popular platforms for confessions. While not, potentially, having the same audience numbers as TV, they remain an increasingly used channel that shares similarities with the confession broadcasts.

One of the biggest “confession” stories this year was in April  when Zhang Yiming (张一鸣), the founder and CEO of the Toutiao news app that fell foul of the authorities for allowing off-colour jokes on its platform, posted an “apology” on WeChat that shares language strikingly similar to the confessions.

In the same month, after the police had arrested several members of the National Tourism Chat (全国旅游群) WeChat group that raised money for political prisoners and their families, one of the founders, Dai Xiangnan (戴湘南), and also one of those who had been arrested, sent a “confession” message to the group. He said he was guilty of engaging in illegal fundraising activities, inciting others in the group to donate money and sign petitions, and disturbing social order. In the ensuing days, three more members also made similar confession statements to the group. At least three of those sent messages while in custody.

In a move which illustrates how “normal” public confessions have become in China – with no question as to their legal or ethical status, a pilot scheme in Dazhou, a city in Sichuan province, allows pedestrians, cyclists and scooter drivers who commit minor offences off  if they post a confession to their social media and it gets at least 20 likes.

 

Manipulated video

A new phenomenon in recent years is the CCP’s use of manipulated video to counter accusations against it. These are often circulated “unofficially”, uploaded anonymously or leaked to media. These heavily edited clips often include undated, unclear, and ambiguous footage. They also clearly violate the privacy rights of the people being filmed.

The most famous of these, are the repugnant series of videos which were released while China’s most famous dissident Liu Xiaobo was dying of liver cancer in prison. The first (which can be seen here) shows Mr. Liu in prison and in hospital, in an apparent effort to “prove” that he was being well treated. Shortly afterwards another upsetting video (which can be seen here) was aired showing the visit of two foreign doctors to Mr. Liu’s bedside. Germany later expressed their anger at the video’s release saying : “These recordings were made against the expressed wishes of the German side, which were communicated in writing prior to the visit.” Mr. Liu’s hurried funeral and burial at sea were also filmed and released.

Two more recent examples are a video of police detaining rights lawyer Yu Wensheng (余文生)  as he took his son to school in January 2018. It was aired on The Paper (which also broadcast right lawyer Wang Yu’s (王宇) August 2016 forced confession). The time stamps are not smooth showing it has been heavily edited and likely as a means to delete footage showing police aggression towards Lawyer Yu.

In May, Beijing police released another heavily edited video to dispute accusations that a Hong Kong reporter had been roughed up by security agents as he attempted to cover rights lawyer Xie Yanyi’s (谢燕) hearing at a lawyer’s federation. In this case there was footage from bystanders and the TV station itself which showed the journalist being grabbed and pushed to the floor by five men – a remarkably different picture to the official clip.

 

China’s forced TV confessions report now out in Chinese

We are pleased to announce that the only in-depth study of China’s illegal TV confessions, Scripted and Staged, is now available in Chinese, allowing readers for the first time access to the testimony of Chinese victims in their original language.

This ground-breaking report, exposes the lies and the abuse behind China’s illegal practice of coercing detainees to confess on television and calls on governments to take steps to pressure China to abandon this practice, and put into place safeguards so that detainees are protected against such abuse in the future.

Download new Chinese version of Scripted and Staged here

Download original English version of Scripted and Staged here

 

Scripted and Staged: Behind the scenes of China’s forced TV confessions uses moving first-person testimonies and in-depth interviews to reveal:

  • how confessions are extracted through threats, torture, and fear;
  • how police dictate and direct confessions;
  • and, how they are often used as tools of propaganda for both domestic audiences and as part of China’s foreign policy.

Little more than a week after the publication of the English version of the report, which was covered by media across the globe from Iceland to Japan, and by The New York Times to Singapore’s The Strait’s Times, China broadcast yet another forced confession via its state media channel, CCTV. Two Chinese-Canadian twins, Chen Zhiyu and Chen Zhiheng, were shown “confessing” to forging documents for exiled Chinese tycoon Guo Wengui.

We are using the report to campaign for sanctions or restrictions on Chinese state media that broadcast these illegal and rights abusing confessions. This is an urgent issue right now as China aggressively expands its media overseas – the latest reports suggest CGTN (CCTV’s global arm) is planning to hire 350 new journalists for a massive new media centre in London.

 

RSDL round-up for May

This is a monthly round-up of all news related to Residential Surveillance at a Designated Location (RSDL) in China. It includes updates on victims, legal developments and commentary on China’s legalized practice of “Enforced Disappearances.”

 

New RSDL cases

CCP goes after lawyers’ licenses

First death in Liuzhi is reported

New evidence on Xinjiang’s political education camps

Pressure mounts for Liu Xia’s release as she says she wants to die

Two trials — Tashi Wangchuk and Qin Yongmin

 

New RSDL cases

At the end of last month, it was confirmed that well-known Hunanese rights activist Zhu Chengzhi (朱承志), who had disappeared at the end of April,  has been placed under RSDL at an unknown location. His daughter, who received his RSDL notice, said she believes he is being kept somewhere in Suzhou but has not been informed of his whereabouts. Suzhou police rejected Zhu’s lawyer’s request to visit his client. This is the second time that Zhu has been held under RSDL; his first spell was in January 2013, and his is thought to have been the first ever RSDL case after the custodial practice was legalized on 1 January 2013.

There are also reports that at the end of April, Nanjing-born human rights defender Wang Jian (王健) was moved into RSDL at an unknown location.  Police had detained him on 18 April on suspicion of “disorderly behaviour.”

 

CCP goes after lawyers’ licenses

Following the 709 Crackdown of 2015 against human rights lawyers – mass arrests, many disappeared into RSDL, with some ending in lengthy prison sentences — the CCP now appears to be trying to neutralize the remaining lawyers en masse by preventing them from working through the revoking of their licenses or blocking them from getting work at a law firm.  Lawyer Xie Yanyi (谢燕益) faces imminent revocation of his license, while this month Lawyer Wen Donghai (文东海), Xie’s own lawyer and Lawyer Li Heping (李和平) were notified that their licenses were being revoked.

 

In mid-May the Beijing Lawyers’ Association’s held a hearing on Lawyer Xie’s alleged violations during a case earlier this year for a Falun Gong client. In Beijing that day both Lawyer Xie and a Hong Kong journalist were roughed up and detained briefly outside by security. An account of that day, written by Lawyer Xie was posted on China Change.

 

First death in Liuzhi is reported

The first death under liuzhi (留置), a new custodial system in China over Communist Party members and government workers that is completely outside judicial control was reported on 8 May by Caixin. Chen Yong (陈勇), a former driver for the Jianyang district government in Fujian province died during an interrogation. His sister said they had identified the body but were shocked to see that his face was disfigured. Mr. Chen’s case highlights the fact that you do not currently have to be a CCP member or government worker to be detained under liuzhi – Chen left his job in 2016. No lawyer access is allowed under the system.

 

New evidence on Xinjiang’s political education camps

There has been a flurry of scholarly and journalistic efforts to provide more evidence of, and information on, the mass incarceration of Muslims (mainly Uighur) in political re-education camps in the Xinjiang region. The AP ran an interview with a former Kazakh inmate at one of these camps in which “hour upon hour, day upon day, … [detainees]… had to disavow their Islamic beliefs, criticize themselves and their loved ones and give thanks to the ruling Communist Party.”

The interview with Omir Bekali can be viewed below:

 

 

Scholar Adrian Zenz released his (pre-peer reviewed) paper which offers some of the most comprehensive evidence for the extent of these camps to date. With official silence on the very existence of these camps, Dr. Zenz uses government procurement and construction bids, budget reports and recruitment notices to give a fuller picture of what’s going on. He identified 73 separate bids for re-education facilities and estimates that anything between several hundred thousand and one million people have been disappeared into these camps.

Law student Shawn Zhang on Medium shares his research putting together satellite imagery to identify locations and the scale of these secretive camps. A summary of his results is given in this news report by the Jordanian newssite Al Bawaba. In a powerful opinion piece for the New York Times, Rian Thum writes: “The camps are also tools of punishment, and of course, a threat. Few detainees are formally charged, much less sentenced. Some are told how long a term they will serve; others are simply held indefinitely. This uncertainty — the arbitrary logic of detention — instills fear in the entire population.”

 

Pressure mounts for Liu Xia’s release as she says she wants to die

There have been growing calls for the release of Liu Xia (刘霞), the wife of deceased Chinese dissident Liu Xiaobo, who has been under house arrest and effectively disappeared since her husband’s funeral last summer – although she has never been charged with a crime. In one phone call to a dissident friend living in exile in Germany at the beginning of the month, Ms. Liu, audibly weeping, said she would rather die than continue living under these conditions. “If I can’t leave, I’ll die in my home. Xiaobo is gone, and there’s nothing in the world for me now. It’s easier to die than live,” she said.

A few weeks later, a joint campaign between Amnesty International and PEN in which international poets and writers quoted from Ms. Liu’s own writings, was launched to draw global attention to her case, urging for her release and arguing her continued incarceration was making her lose her mind. Meanwhile EU diplomats have been barred from seeing her and Germany says she is welcome any time.

The joint campaign:

 

 

Two trials – Tashi Wangchuk and Qin Yongmin

Tibetan activist Tashi Wangchuk, who campaigned for schools to teach in the Tibetan language was handed a five-year sentence for separatism in a court in Qinghai province. Chillingly, the New York Times video Tashi made to explain his campaign was used as evidence at the trial that he had “deliberately incited separatism by trying to discredit the government’s international image and treatment of ethnic minorities.” Tashi made it clear in that interview he was not seeking independence for Tibet, just a school where his niece could learn in her mother tongue.

Meanwhile, activist Qin Yongmin (秦永敏) fainted during his closed-door trial on 11 May. Mr. Qin was forcibly disappeared back in January 2015. Despite his ill health, Mr. Qin’s trial on subversion charges went ahead and his lawyers, who were afraid he may have died in the courtroom, were subsequently denied access to their client after the two-day trial.