Our View: As Games near, China tightens up

Many people, probably including some members of the International Olympic Committee, hoped that holding this year's Olympic Games in Beijing would serve as a lever to induce China to improve its human-rights record, permit both Chinese and foreign journalists to report more honestly in China and act more responsibly in the rest of the world in order to enhance the preferred image of China as a mature member of the international community.

The Chinese government has relented on a few issues — it didn't veto a U.N. resolution imposing sanctions on Iran, it has offered limited cooperation on reining in the genocidal regime in Sudan, and has agreed to a smoking ban at Olympic venues. However, as the Aug. 8 opening of the Games approaches it has become clear that, in the short run and in certain areas, the Olympics have led to more repression, not less.

The reason is not hard to understand. Beijing wants to present a harmonious face to the world. But its idea of harmony includes stifling dissent and other manifestations that could look embarrassing to the world. So in addition to tearing down some of Beijing's more colorful and historic neighborhoods to erect Olympic venues and gleaming new skyscrapers, it has rounded up street beggars in Beijing and shipped them off to the provinces. And it is rounding up political dissidents and potential troublemakers as well.

Amnesty International issued a stern report in April claiming that "[i]t is increasingly clear that much of the current wave of repression is occurring not despite the Olympics but actually because of the Olympics. It cited the detention of a number of pro-democracy and human-rights activists and the brutal crackdown on protesters in Tibet.

On April 3 Hu Jia, who had written articles linking human rights and the Olympics, received a 3-1/2-year prison sentence for "inciting subversion of state power." Thousands of Web sites have been shut down, and government control and blocking of sites outside China has been intensified.

An ancient tradition that survives today involves citizens who feel they have been done wrong by provincial authorities coming to Beijing to plead their case to the emperor — or national party officials these days. Though they seldom get satisfaction, they still come. In recent weeks, however, vans with provincial license plates have been seen outside the State Bureau for Letters and Visits. Their mission is to spot anybody from their provinces coming to register complaints, pick them up and take them home, with a stern admonition not to come back.

"They've already caught me twice and sent me home," one petitioner told The Washington Post Jill Drew. "They told me if they catch me one more time, they will take me to a mental hospital."

Human Rights Watch just issued a report saying that Chinese promises to allow journalists access to the rest of China during the Olympics have been broken, and Chinese journalists in particular have been put on notice not to do anything remotely provocative.

China will no doubt put on a reasonably impressive Olympics, and in some respects China's recent economic growth (achieved mainly by loosening government control over the economy) is admirable. But it will be worth remembering, amid the pageantry, spectacle and inspiring athletic competition, that the image of harmony will have been achieved at a steep price, paid mostly by the Chinese people.