Chinese culture does not belong to the Chinese government

My heart sank. Since moving to Beijing in 2014 as a Wall Street Journal correspondent, I had seen Xi Jinping’s regime regularly call on Chinese culture to bolster its rule, praising the country’s “ great civilization, ” and its efforts of the party to preserve and uphold it. But most of all, it felt sad to see a beloved childhood icon being incorporated into the effort.

What does it mean to love and be proud of a culture but not the government that serves as its most prominent booster? For members of the Chinese diaspora, such questions can be tricky, especially at a time of growing global mistrust of China and its leaders. A recent Pew poll of 14 countries, for example, found a record-breaking unfavorable view of China, with a median of 78% of respondents saying they were Mr. Xi did not trust to do the right thing in world affairs.

As a child in the US in the 1990s, my identity as someone of ethnic Chinese descent felt mostly like a cultural affair: dim sum halls, Chinese classes, participating in the San Francisco Lunar New Year parade. But fast forward to today, and with Beijing playing a more prominent role on the world stage, politics and culture now feel much more intermingled.

Celebrities like Jackie Chan have become articulate government supporters, with Mr Chan declaring that “we Chinese should be controlled.” On Twitter, Chinese state media are mixing reports denying atrocities in Xinjiang – where Western governments say authorities have detained a million or more Uyghurs in internment camps – with tribute to the virtues of tai chi and Chinese cuisine.

“China’s soft power is constantly on the rise, which stems from its alluring traditional culture,” said the nationalist Chinese tabloid The Global Times, referring to YouTube star Li Ziqi, whose cinematic shots of her traditional Chinese rural lifestyle make millions of appearances. Viewed.

Clarissa Wei, an American food writer from Taipei, says that when she first started writing about Chinese food ten years ago, the subject seemed harmless. Lately, her work has met with a backlash, with some critics accusing her of being part of Beijing’s soft-power push. “It feels like saying ‘Chinese culture’ too strongly, it almost feels like a dirty word,” says Ms Wei, adding that her intention was to celebrate some of her heritage and that she does not support the party. .

At the time the Monkey King video was released, I had recently left Beijing and moved back to the US. I was pregnant thinking about my child and how to raise him as an American of proud ethnic Chinese descent, as my parents had done. raised me.

But even before he was born, questions arose, including about something as simple as how to spell his Chinese name in English. The Wade-Giles system that came about in the 19th century – which my parents used to transliterate my name – felt outdated, and we were uncomfortable using the pinyin system that was introduced in the 1950s. communist regime has been propagated and has become a worldwide standard. My grandparents were members of the Kuomintang, the party that lost to the communists during the civil war in China and then fled to Taiwan. As a child my dad grew up chirping “Reclaim the mainland!” at home – and I imagined them rolling into their graves at the thought. So for my son’s name, we used a completely different romanization system, one developed in Taiwan.

I want my son to grow up and feel connected to China. In my time as a reporter, and before that, I’ve lived in China for years – all things considered, longer than I’ve lived anywhere except in my hometown of Oakland, California. Beyond my family roots there, it’s a place I love a lot.

It is also a place that is difficult for me to talk about. Ever since they returned to the US, people have regularly asked me about the worst parts of the country and its administration, about the Communist Party’s campaign to eradicate dissent and its increasing political repression. “What a place to be a reporter,” they will say. “You must be so relieved to be back.”

I want to say yes, but also that it is a place full of nice and smart people who are constantly finding ways to reinvent their lives, with a propelling mix of pragmatism and playfulness. I can’t count the number of times I was invited off the street into people’s homes or describe how much I miss China today. The food and the language, yes – but most of all the people. I don’t know how to speak in a shorthand that reflects all of this.

As China has grown more out of control in its authoritarian ambitions, some have found clarity by throwing the label ‘Chinese’ completely overboard. Nathan Law, a Hong Kong activist in London, says he once identified as Chinese and cheered for the Beijing Olympic team, but no more. Like many in Hong Kong, where China has increasingly encroached on the city’s autonomy – most recently by passing a draconian national security law that has sparked oppression and led to dozens of arrests – Mr. The law has begun to call itself a Hong Konger. “The term ‘Chinese’ has been misused,” he says. “The way Xi brands the term forces people to establish a more localized identity.”

For Arlen Tsao, an IT professional in Taiwan, Beijing’s attempts to embrace the mantle of traditional Chinese culture feel ironic, given how the party’s Cultural Revolution led to widespread destruction of that culture, with temples destroyed. and those suspected of adhering to ancient traditions were persecuted. “It’s propaganda and it makes me angry,” he says.

I tell him I have had similar thoughts myself. I think of how art was used in Nazi Germany and how Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony was played in propaganda films, half a century before Chinese protesters played it as a rallying cry during the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests. For authoritarian regimes, cultural pride is a ready fig leaf.

“The government is always trying to promote Chinese culture to profile China as a peaceful, friendly emerging power,” said Sheng Ding, a professor of political science at Bloomsburg University in Pennsylvania. Still, he says, the soft culture push has met with increasing resistance in recent years. Many Confucius institutes at universities in the US – Beijing’s flagship promotion of Chinese language and culture – have recently closed, for example, due to security concerns and wider backlash. Mr. Ding says he has tried to teach his children that it is possible to love a country, but not the government. “What the Chinese government is doing has nothing to do with the Chinese people,” he says, adding that he tells his students the same.

Recently, I started reading my son the Monkey King books that I had saved from childhood. It was a pleasure to sink back in. After challenging Heaven, the Monkey King defeats an army of Heavenly soldiers and proves impossible to execute. It reminded us that the immortal Chinese impostor is first and foremost a rebel – and that any empire, however powerful, can sometimes be outdone.

-Mrs. Chen covers work and work culture for the Journal and is the author of a new collection of short stories, “Land of Big Numbers,” to be published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt on February 2.