BEIJING, April 28 -- At an airport in northeast China, a young security
guard recently spotted a foreign airline passenger with shaving cream
in his carry-on bag. "No," he said sternly, wagging his finger like
a cross schoolteacher. "No, no, no."
In a country where airport security is unfailingly polite and efficient,
the guard's stiff attitude spoke volumes.
Just weeks ago, most Chinese were welcoming foreigners as Olympic
guests and partners in the country's meteoric economic development.
But as the country enters the final 100 days before the Olympic Games
in Beijing, the mood has changed. Many Chinese have begun to regard
foreigners as adversaries interfering in domestic affairs or, at
worst, bigots unwilling to accept China's emergence as a great power.
The Olympic torch left China only a month ago on what was billed as
ä journey of harmony." Instead, the torch became a moving target
for protesters worldwide. The focus of most demonstrations was China's
crackdown against the Tibetans who rioted March 14 in Lhasa. Other
protesters criticized China's role in the Darfur conflict. By the
time the torch was paraded Sunday in Seoul, poor treatment of North
Korean refugees was added to Beijing's list of sins.
The government's reaction to the unexpected avalanche of criticism
was shrill. It described the protesters as "separatist elements"
and claimed that they were seeking the breakup of the country, perhaps
as part of a conspiracy. It railed at foreign media coverage, accusing
reporters and editors of unspecified ülterior motives."
The coordinated campaign was framed in an us-and-them mode, sharply
at odds with the spirit of the Olympics, whose slogan is Öne World,
One Dream." The party's official newspaper, People's Daily, ran an
editorial Wednesday suggesting Chinese should be confident enough
in their own greatness to rise above the criticism. The headline
was a Chinese aphorism that means roughly: Ä gentleman does not
worry about the dogs yapping at his heels."
The circle-the-wagons approach found a ready audience in China. A
recent survey by a Beijing polling group found that more than 80
percent of those questioned believed Western news media were conveying
a biased image of China abroad.
"The Chinese people do not like outsiders to make comments on China's
domestic affairs," said Victor Yuan, who runs the polling group,
Horizon. "They think it's their business, not your business."
A farmer near the northeastern city of Changchun echoed that sentiment
not long ago. After seeking attention for a dispute over land that
had been confiscated from her and others, she suddenly decided against
talking with a foreign reporter. "I'm pretty patriotic," she explained.
Meanwhile, a fervidly nationalistic campaign flared online, as Internet
users suggested that foreigners were bigoted against China and that
Western businesses should be boycotted. Demonstrators gathered in
front of stores run by Carrefour, the French superstore chain, in
several cities around the country.
Carrefour received special criticism because Chinese bloggers spread
reports that its owners had donated money to India-based Tibetan
exile groups run by the Dalai Lama. The firm's headquarters in Paris
denied that was true, but the bloggers paid no heed.
Chinese Internet censors, who control what people say online, did
nothing to dampen the fervor. And police, who prevent most demonstrations,
blocked protesters from reaching the French Embassy in Beijing but
otherwise allowed the outraged youths to vent their fury.
A Chinese woman working for The Washington Post was pushed around
at one such demonstration by young Chinese men who suggested she
should be careful about working with a foreign publication. An American
man who showed up at another Carrefour store for some shopping was
roughed up as well, perhaps on the mistaken assumption he was French.
In recent days, Chinese authorities have sought to pull back the nationalist
tide. Editorials in the controlled press suggested to youths that
carrying out their assigned tasks is the best way to demonstrate
patriotism. Internet censors started blocking items with the word
Carrefour.
Yuan said his poll findings do not suggest that the current troubles
over Tibet and the torch will last long enough to generate an unfriendly
atmosphere during the Olympics. Similarly nationalistic protests
against Japan two years ago have long since faded from the screen,
he noted.
"Maybe during the Games Chinese spectators will boo the French teams,
but they will not overreact," he said.
Behind the public mood, however, has come a simultaneous tightening
of security that officials say is likely to last until after the
Games. It, too, has contributed to the change in atmosphere.
Olympic security has been threatened by a variety of anti-government
groups, officials say, including Tibetans, the Xinjiang region's
Uighur separatists and foreign human rights campaigners. As a result,
the number of police deployed in Beijing's streets has grown visibly.
People's Armed Police forces guarding embassies and other diplomatic
compounds have been reinforced by Public Security Bureau personnel
who can be seen lounging and smoking in their white cars and minivans.
Foreign residents of the capital report that police have started checking
their identification cards and passports with greater regularity,
in some cases visiting homes and offices to do so. According to Chinese
law, foreigners should always have their passports with them, but
the rule has been allowed to lapse in recent years as the number
of foreigners working here increased.
Some of the many foreigners working on multiple-entry business visas
-- instead of the requisite work visas -- have found they cannot
get a renewal until the fall, forcing them to leave the country and
lose their jobs.
The Foreign Ministry declared it has made no changes in visa rules
and seeks to facilitate travel to China. But travel agents in Hong
Kong, backed up by chambers of commerce there, said multiple-entry
business visas have been suspended and more documentation is required
for short-stay business visas that previously were granted on demand
at the border between Hong Kong and Guangdong province.
Hong Kong itself has tightened visa rules, seeking to limit entry
to foreigners who might be planning to stage protests when the torch
returns to Chinese soil later this week.
But perhaps nowhere is the new mood more palpable than in Tibet, a
premier tourist destination that has been closed off to foreigners
since March 14. As a result of the ban, most foreign journalists
have been barred from covering the torch relay through Tibet, including
plans for a photogenic climb up Mount Everest. Nine foreign newspapers
and broadcasters have been allowed in to cover part of the relay,
but only for 10 days in a carefully shepherded trip.