This pandemic is imposing social distancing not only between people, but also between countries. At least, between certain countries. For many people, this may be the biggest property they would inherit from this crisis.
After we get through all this, we definitely will, this virus will be cast into a story of stereotypes, along with the fading fear. However, many things will stay. They will creep into our daily lives and grow into scars. Oh how I wish these scars are healed over time. With reluctant pain, however, I am projecting these scars will grow into chasm, even abyss. My rational is fairly simple. This virus has failed to budge the power addiction of human beings, if not reinforced.
For many years I enjoyed the pleasure of talking with my parents and siblings across distance. The cordial topics went way beyond family and wellbeing, like food, culture, politics, the trade war, pros and cons of living in the two countries where we contrast as much as we are intertwined in so many ways, a long list. We teased both sides with jaunty biases. For the China side, our common mother country, we drifted from the corruption clouts by central government to the recent whisper of “don’t get this to the public or you will have trouble”. For the US side, we gulped the air of criticizing the leader of the country, which is forbidden in the other one. That’s just the way it is in any family talks; we need a plot anyway. But this came to an end in the most absurd way possible this spring, after the virus storm left China, sort of, and landed in the US. Almost overnight I found myself bombarded by myriads of online reports forwarded by parents. The headlines are like this:
Where did this virus truly originate? Let me show you a trace hidden in the US.
The break of American dream.
US Navy crushed by the virus.
……
Combined with:
Only China’s system can defeat the virus.
What a great battle led by CCP.
The world owes China a “Thank you”.
……
I am amazed by how quickly the self-condemn in the tone has disappeared, replaced by an outlandish narcissism. It feels more eerie when I know, through daily phone calls, that they are still stringently told “don’t put on social media when you see anybody around get sick.”. And I know all these articles are pushed through one channel: the WeChat, the №1 online App in China.
Last week I sent my mom a tentative message: “please don’t send this kind of report. We have news here from all directions, not just one channel. We see more debates and investigations than conclusions.” Mom replied with a hint of angst: “I just passed you the factual reports. I am not imposing my opinions.” I am dumbfounded. In their eyes, these are plain facts. I figure out that any argument would be a waste. My mom is as loving as any mom in the world, as eager to know the outside world as any people in the world. But when they build a giant wall around her and send information through designated pipelines (a scene in the novel 1984), the world is what my mom sees, or vice versa, what she sees is the world. I almost came up to reply, “have you noticed that all these reports come to you from one site, the WeChat, while you pass them all on at WeChat, too?” I thought better of that.
The talk gets heavier every single day, along with spiking records of infection cases and death tolls in the US. I know they have even better news feeds than me when it comes to reporting crises in other countries, especially the US. “What’s your plan now? Come back to China? China is the safest place now!” “It’s too late. You can’t come back. The government is stopping people at airports.”
Our daily conference gets shorter, too, mostly because of me. Suddenly I feel sorry for the sense of condescension I might have hinted in the greeting calls back to January when they were at high of the crisis — — it’s an easy trend when comforting people. My repulsion to her cue of the same ton now grows in a guilty velocity before it ends up making me find an excuse to hang up. Then sorry besieges me. She is my mom. She loves me unconditionally. Once or twice, I tried to tell her:
“Mom, can you stop seeing the pushed news from WeChat? Do you know that almost every official news media we are seeing here is banned in China, including social media? I have WeChat in my phone, too. I can read all the WeChat reports that you are reading. But you can not read the news that I am reading here at all. We are not on the same page to go through some debates.”
Mom’s reply was fair and square: “Are you teasing me that I don’t know English? (nooo! I mean you lose the right to read them, even though you don’t want to read them!) After all, lots of news I read here has the starting line — -”According to foreign news…….” You see, I am reading foreign news. If it’s fake, that only tells the foriegn news is fake (nooo! Are you able to check if it’s really according to foreign news?)”
Then I just want to hang up and let the guilt engulf me.
For none-Chinese, they would never be able to imagine how much the App WeChat, and a list of its sub Apps, are entangled with Chinese people’s daily life. But I am a Chinese. I know getting a Chinese out of WeChat is like moving a mountain. It offers free phone calls and messages from anywhere on the planet. When it comes to pushed news in lifestyle, WeChat reports are entertaining, colorful, educational, though as commercial as any other social media in the world.
Chinese take tremendous pride in this App, so much so that they are in sweeping denial to a striking fact — — they’ve many TV channels, maybe the longest list in the world; but there is only one producer. There is a trending verse among WeChatters: life is quiet and good （岁月静好）. This is the picture when they stay at the entertaining channels. But if they dare to dive into the hidden torrent, the wave is immense and brutal. Articles attempting to touch the tender part of authoritarianism will disappear in seconds. Screenshot of the sensitive articles, of each single page, has become the standard source, rather than the link. The fallen Chinese whistleblower, Dr. Li WenLiang, was detained and reprimanded by police for his post at WeChat warning people of the virus outbreak. In the beginning, people might have tried to look for news in their own interests. But slowly and inadvertently, they just take in whatever WeChat feeds them, and believe that it’s the whole world. Then this scene emerges:
They let you see what they want you to see.
Rather than they let you see what you want to see.
Looks familiar? If the pervasive posters of “Big Brother is Watching You” are a trick of oppression, this “let you see” one is an upgrade. This virus outbreak has dented his divinity like never before. He must reverse it. He has three common plays when it comes to restoration:
1, Was not me.
2, Somebody is doing worse than me.
3, It would have been much worse without me.
To deliver these messages, no better vehicle than WeChat. As result, we are getting more and more isolated from one side to the other. It would upset many foreign individuals when they manage to read these pushed reports, President Trump included when he claimed “Chinese Virus”. It would push apart the chasm amid many Chinese having families across the Pacific Ocean. But clearly that is not his concern. His concern is, ultimately, his people are happily taking in what he feeds them, thus generating immense pride. Because, nobody can bring him down but his own people.
