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reThe teacher is about to explain why she is against the Chinese government’s new language policy when two cars pull up on the road next to her. Five people run in her direction. “No interviews are allowed,” says a man who introduces himself as deputy director of the local propaganda department. But the woman, who belongs to the Mongolian minority, is not intimidated. “It is not an interview, we are just chatting,” she says. “But that’s a journalist,” the man replies. “Journalists are telling the truth,” says the defiant woman, adding: “To be honest, we don’t support your policy.”
The propaganda man tries a different strategy. “The journalist did not do a corona test. Talking to him is dangerous ”. The five people surrounded the woman and pushed her into the background. The conversation is over.
The propaganda people in Hangjin County in China’s Inner Mongolia region are doing what their peers in China usually do. They try to avoid interviews with foreign media so that their district does not fall into poor condition. But in doing so, they do the opposite. There are certainly arguments with which they could defend the new language policy. In the future, three subjects will no longer be taught in Mongolian but in Chinese in native-speaking Mongolian schools.
Propaganda people might say that poor knowledge of Chinese limits the job opportunities and mobility of the Mongol minority. You could say that this is precisely the reason why most Mongolian parents are already choosing Chinese language schools. But they don’t. It is not your job to convince.
Lies and absurd claims
Instead, they get entangled in absurd claims. In China, interviews should only be done with the approval of the propaganda agency, they lie. They promise an interview with the head of the local education authority, but in front of his office it suddenly occurs to them that a corona test is necessary at the local hospital. When asked not to wear masks, the five companions rushed to put on the masks.
Besides the propaganda people, there are also two women from the Civilized City Office filming the conversation on their cell phones. Being civilized is a stamp of approval given in China to cities that meet certain criteria. Hangjin is proud of his label and needs bad press.
The nervousness of the officials on Monday morning in front of the Mongolian primary school is particularly great. The new school year should have started a week ago. But the parents collectively refused to send their children to class. Many believe that reform is just the beginning of a process at the end of which their language and writing will die out. In recent days, all parents have been warned, intimidated, and appeased through phone and home calls. Employees of all state institutions have been threatened with job loss if they continue to keep their children away from school.
