The British government’s attempt to reverse its citizen Akmal Shaikh’s death sentence in China has met with very little sympathy from Chinese, internet reaction suggests. According to the website Global Voices Online, a common if unsurprising reaction seemed to be along the lines of “why should a foreigner deserve special treatment?” More interestingly, one fiery post that went viral applauded the Chinese government’s position by invoking the spirit of Lin Zexu, a celebrated official who took on British and Chinese interests alike to battle the scourge of opium in the 1830’s. By ignoring the pleas of foreign governments and harshly punishing foreign drug importers, the gist of the original post went (here, in Chinese), China had demonstrated it was strong and could defend itself as it saw fit. As references to Lin Zexu subsequently became commonplace in online discussions of the Akmal Shaikh incident, the latter-day diplomatic row became a refutation of foreign privilege in the popular imagination.
Never mind that the British government’s stance on this issue was about due process for the mentally ill. How did in the world did this debate shift from due process to Lin Zexu?
The substance of the Brits’ diplomatic protest was lost in translation from the start. Its appeal for clemency was packaged as a thinly veiled critique of the fairness of the Chinese criminal justice system, something many Chinese might simply with. Unfortunately, concern for the mitigating circumstances of mentally ill people in capital punishment cases is almost as distant from the daily concerns of Chinese as animal cruelty. This weak message was wholly drowned out by its subtext, which was the implication Akmal Shaikh deserved more just treatment than the system afforded most Chinese. Even if no Chinese loves their criminal justice system, your average Chinese wasn’t about to support granting a foreigner a “get out of jail free” card on an apparent procedural technicality.
In retrospect, that messaging blunder was compounded by being insufficiently attuned to the Communist Party’s domestic marching orders and its nationalist lore. One pillar of the communist regime’s legitimacy is its historical willingness to stand up to overbearing foreigners, be it against currency pressure or marginal perceived slights. As the British spoke out increasingly forcefully on making an exception for their citizen, increasing the stakes for both sides, it became increasingly difficult for Beijing to back down.
With the Akmal Shaikh incident, European anger over Chinese intransigence on human rights seemingly boiled over. Edward McMillen Scott, a vice-president of the European Parliament, has since published an incendiary op-ed in the Independent calling on all of Europe “to stand up to [China’s] abusive one-party state and forget trade.” If Europe follows through on this defiant stance (a marked contrast to the Obama administration’s low key manner with China, by the way), they would be wise to heed the lessons of the Akmal Shaikh incident and find a way to keep Chinese public opinion on their side, if that’s possible.
(A word about gauging “netizen reaction” in general: China’s net users, known colloquially as netizens, are generally prolific in commenting on events and public affairs in internet discussion boards, as these are the most free and public space for conversation in today’s China. While the commentary recorded is cacophonous, ill-informed and can never be presumed to be an authoritative representation of Chinese opinion, it is almost always of interest to foreign observers, who will take any chance they will get to hear unfiltered Chinese voices. Moreover, certain stories or memes will become verifiably popular, based on the number of response posts or views, and this itself can be revealing. Several websites are helpful in monitoring such stories and aggregating and translating the reactions: chinasmack.com, globalvoices.org, chinahush.com, etc.).
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