Wish to Apply for a Protest Permit? Lawyer Up!

Chinese authorities have shown their true undemocratic colors once the Games were secured in their pockets. And the phony promise to allow protests during the Olympiad is just one perfect example of this deception.

We have already reported about the phony promises to allow peaceful protests in designated areas, as organizers call them, during the Games. And we have also reported that it was not clear whether the applications for those protest permits were even considered.

Well, it's good to know that one enterprising Western journalist went ahead and actually tested the veracity of the regime's claims.

The New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof actually went into the offices of the Beijing Public Security Bureau to apply for a permit, and realized the whole charade was a trap.

What I didn’t realize is that Public Security has arrested at least a half-dozen people who have shown up to apply for protest permits. Public Security is pretty shrewd. In the old days it had to go out and catch protesters in the act. Now it saves itself the bother: would-be protesters show up at Public Security offices to apply for permits and are promptly detained. That’s cost-effective law enforcement for you.

But the bureaucrat at Window 12 was caught unprepared for the kind of person who approach him to apply for the permit. And the following dialogue took place:

“Wouldn’t you rather conduct an interview about demonstrations?”

“No. I want to apply to hold one.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you want to protest?”

“I want to demonstrate in favor of preserving Beijing’s historic architecture.” It was the least controversial, most insipid topic I could concoct.

“Do you think the government is not doing a good job at this?” he asked sternly.

“There may be room for improvement,” I said delicately.

Dreadful foot-dragging understates the true qualities of the remaining part of the application process. Kristof and his accompanying videographer were put to a steeple-chase track where police officers held on to every bureaucratic corner to impede their path.

After being requested to submit a list of all the people who would participate in the protest, the following dialogue ensued:

“If I go through all this, then will my application at least be granted?” I asked.

“How can we tell?” a policeman responded. “That would prejudge the process.”

“Well, has any application ever been granted?” I asked.

“We can’t answer that, for that matter has no connection to this case.”

Kristof finally realized the whole process was a wild-goose chase and gave up.

The rules were so monstrously bureaucratic that I couldn’t even apply for a demonstration. My Olympic dreams were dashed. The police asked me to sign their note-taker’s account of the meeting, and we politely said our goodbyes.

So one is left to wonder whatever happened to the 77 applicants who requested to hold a protest during the Games so far. Were they granted the permit? Were they trapped as planned?

Kristof never answered those questions. And regardless of his disappointment, he remains optimistic about the whole thing, saying "fear of government is ebbing."

China today reminds me of Taiwan in the mid-1980s as a rising middle class demanded more freedom. Almost every country around China, from Mongolia to Indonesia, Thailand to South Korea, has become more open and less repressive — not because of the government’s kindness but because of the people’s insistence.

We fervently want to agree with Kristof. But evidence to the contrary is overwhelming. The International Olympic Committee also was convinced that bestowing the Games to China would have the same effects  as it did on South Korea's democratization.

Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.