Beijing’s Communist Party wants to scrutinize all aspects of society, no matter how apolitical they are. “Illegal” brewers, hobby block attendants, and spy software are all included in this piece.

For the past nine years, members of the Beijing Homebrewing Society (BHS) have met regularly in Beijing pubs to discuss new types of craft beer and trade suggestions on how to properly make beer. The BHS is a loosely structured community of young people who share a shared interest in cool blondes.

Actually, it’s quite safe. The state power in Beijing, on the other hand, sees things differently: the BHS has been labelled as a “illegal NGO” and has been banned for ten years. A hobby block attendant – likely a rival host – had already reported the group to the authorities. They later discovered that the brewing community lacked an official government licence, which was so difficult to obtain that the group eventually gave up after years of failed attempt.

The case, which is ridiculous even by Chinese standards, has sparked a mix of confusion, laughter, and melancholy on social media.

“We’re getting further and further away from civilisation,” a user on the Chinese social media platform Weibo observed.

Another user, clearly patriotic, says: “Non-governmental organizations (NGOs) that play with so-called human rights or democratic values should, of course, be disbanded. But why should beverage-related organisations be prohibited?”

Black uniform, red armbands and cameras

The episode may be dismissed as a Kafkaesque offshoot of Beijing bureaucracy. However, it can also be interpreted as a metaphor for the highly charged social milieu in Beijing, which provides little possibility for social freedom beyond official supervision. A paranoid climate exists, in which ordinary folks are immediately suspected, and others transform into overzealous block keepers.

Beijing’s urban planning is one of the most prominent manifestations of this climate. The city of Beijing has grown increasingly isolated: university campuses, which were formerly popular day trip destinations, are now restricted to tourists, state museums need prior registration, which includes a security checkpoint, and public spaces are watched by surveillance cameras.

Almost all residential complexes are surrounded by high walls and manned by security guards dressed in black uniforms. With red armbands, volunteers from the so-called neighbourhood committee patrol. Since the pandemic, the primarily elderly residents have started taking everyone’s body temperature and demanding unregistered guests for identification. They assisted the police in tracking down student activists in Tiananmen Square over three decades ago.

However, technical advancements have provided the Stasi mentality with even greater wings. According to media estimates, there are 130,000 registered members of a vigilante group in Chaoyang, Beijing’s most populated district with 3.5 million inhabitants, who regard themselves as volunteer police officers and help identify thieves, drug dealers, and “suspects.” Four years ago, the district’s local police department created its own app for supporters, on which it receives hundreds of tips each year.

Spy convict star pianist of prostitution

Only a few days ago, the citizen informers made their most famous capture: they reported “suspected prostitution” to the police in a residential complex where the police officers who had rushed in finally discovered Li Yundi, a 39-year-old celebrity pianist, with a lady ten years her junior. The cops exposed the suspected criminal star in a particularly sarcastic manner on Weibo, with the caption “one must distinguish, and draw a clear line, between black and white”.

To counteract phishing calls and other impostures, the Chinese Public Security Bureau released its own “anti-fraud app” in March. However, the software, which logs calls and text messages in real time among other things, has led to Chinese users being interrogated by local cops for accessing international news sites on their phones.

“This is a surveillance app that keeps track of everything on your phone,” said an office worker who deleted the app several hours after local authorities told him to install it. “I don’t need it, no matter how good its intentions are.”

And if you by chance delete this app, you will get: “If that’s the case, we won’t be able to assist you with your request,” one of the police stated.

Image Credit: Getty

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