A Miscarriage of Justice
by James L. Secor

Shaoxing , Zhejiang, Peoples Republic of China, is a smallish city, around 450,000. It has produced writers and other literati and one of the Four Beauties. Zhou Enlai was born here. It was the Xia Dynasty capital. Once, Shaoxing was known as the Venice of the East, albeit the canals were fresh water. Now, however, most have been paved over in the name of modernization and supermarkets are underground. Enough of the old has been saved to make the town a tourist destination. There are few tall buildings: the skyline is open and fresh. The Fengzi River is swimable. It is right behind my house, dividing Shaoxing University into a West and an East campus. Across the street from my house is the Courthouse. There are two military guards, sans guns, mace or nightsticks. They would be the laughing stock of the US police force with its riot gear and chemical weapons. This street, Huangcheng Xilu, is a quiet four lane street--two lanes for bicycles. But not on Teachers Day. Not on 10 September 2007.

I went out to find a gathering of 100 people protesting a judgment handed down on a murderer: he was set free. They were irate. A few were voicing their dissent vigorously in front of the Courthouse gates. Banners were strung up along the fencing: "The murderer's still out there." The majority of the crowd were less voluble but not quiet. Some held up high pictures of the perp: one ugly guy! They blocked traffic, for the most part--Chinese drivers tend to be very impatient, so, although there was at least one lane open upon occasion, they despaired of waiting a few seconds for cars from the opposite direction to pass by and leaned on their horns. People on the way to work stopped to listen and inquire. Others got off their bikes, electric bikes and little wagons and joined in.

As I was standing there, three more military men came out of the Courthouse proper: sans guns or other weapons or riot gear. As is standard. But they just stood on the steps laughing and talking about the people gathered before the gates. Chinese demonstrations are orderly.

Will the popular outcry have an effect? Probably not. Corruption is as big business here as it is in the States--and it's been around longer. The media was not on hand.

But what struck me is the difference between China and America in this respect. In America, people prefer to complain and bitch and do nothing; in China, they complain and bitch in public so everyone knows what's up. The Chinese people let the authorities know how they feel; in the US, it's difficult to find dissent of this sort outside of the living room. Once, though, the US media would get all hot and bothered about some miscarriage of justice or other, though mostly to capitalize on the publicity and glitzy spotlight. No more, though. The voice of the people has been silenced, even when a few do protest.

I stood across the street, in front of the dry cleaners, the porcelain shop and the film shop and waited. I looked up and down the street. I pricked up my ears. Nothing. No blaring sirens. No onslaught of police cars and paddy wagons. No hysterical policemen in riot gear with big helmets and shields and loaded down with chemical weapons, guns and other less lethal but just as effective hardware. Nothing. But, then, this is not the US, where 12 old people constitute a threat to democracy and a few thousand chanters--who've arranged permission to air their views--equate to government take-over.

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