Shanghai Scrap

I’ve just given the Pope’s letter a careful first read, and I must admit – my head is reeling. Not just because the text is such a fundamental realignment, but also because it is one dense read.

I’ll post more on this topic after I have a chance to sleep on it. For now, though, I’m going to trace out the four points that jumped out at me.

1. There was absolutely no mention of an “underground” or “patriotic” church in the text. This stylistic choice had been rumored for weeks, but it didn’t quite prepare me for the rhetorical force of the absence of the terms. After all, for twenty-five years, no discussion of Chinese Catholicism was complete without them, and more often than not, they only served to confuse the situation (especially the ill-advised use of “Patriotic” [full disclosure: I used the term myself in an article for Far Eastern Economic Review in 2004]).

2 . However, in the key section related to bishops, the letter does, in fact, recognize a division of sorts. It is this: bishops who were appointed with the pontifical mandate (those formerly known as “underground” bishops (… I can’t escape the term!); those who received episcopal ordination without the pontifical mandate, but who later asked to be received into communion with the Pope, and were received; and that “small number” of bishops who received ordination without a mandate and have not been received into communion with the Pope.

The last group, it is important to note, are explicitly recognized as valid bishops who exercise their ministry validly but illegitimately with regard to the sacraments.

That’s a pretty accurate – though radical – re-engineering of past understandings of China’s bishops as a group divided between the “underground” and “Patriotic.”

3. In the short paragraph describing the status of the bishops formerly known as “underground,” the Pope writes:

” … the Holy See hopes that these legitimate Pastors may be recognized as such by governmental authorities for civil effects too – insofar as these are necessary – and that all the faithful may be able to express their faith freely in the social context in which they live.”

I am not sure that I fully understand what this means, but I think that the implication is that the Pope is asking that the government recognize these bishops as legitimate by the laws of China. The term “civil effects,” though, is what gets me. What are civil effects? Whatever they are, I presume this means that the bishop will have to acknowledge his “civil” status – perhaps by ministering in a Church licensed by the Religious Affairs Bureau – to get those civil effects.

Whatever it means – and again, I’m really unclear about this point – I suspect that this sentence will cause the greatest consternation for the Church formerly known as underground and its supporters.

4. Perhaps the most dramatic section of the letter is the total revokation of “all the faculties previously granted in order to address particular pastoral necessities that emerged in truly difficult times.” Specifically, these include the notorious 8 Points of Cardinal Tomko, issued in 1988 (and updated in 2004) which prohibited, among other acts, sharing of liturgical celebrations with “Patriotic” bishops and priests. This revokation had been long sought by China’s open Catholics, and it was widely expected in the letter.

I don’t want to dwell too much on the letter’s consequences; there are people far more qualified to do that, and they will. For now, I’d just like to point out that – in a small way – the letter serves as a near total and complete repudiation of the rhetoric and methods of the Cardinal Kung Foundation. For those who aren’t familiar with it, the Kung Foundation is an American non-profit whose stated goal is support of China’s underground Catholics; in reality, the foundation and its leader Joseph Kung have spent the better part of the last two decades agitating for more division among China’s Catholics (a stance which the Pope’s letter implicitly recognizes as contrary to his and the late John Paul II’s intentions). I outline some of this in my recent profile of Jin Luxian in the July/August issue of the Atlantic.

The Pope’s letter has only been available for a few hours, and so it’s a bit unreasonable to expect the Foundation to have already pulled its references to the Eight Points as “China Guidelines from the Vatican.” Still, it will be interesting to see when and if it does. More important, however, is whether the Foundation will stop referring – incorrectly – to the Catholic Patriotic Association as China’s official “Patriotic Church.” Joseph Kung surely knows the difference, but in the past he has refused to use accurate language. For example, consider this passage, taken just a few moments ago from the Foundation’s website:

“China therefore has two Churches that call themselves Catholic. One Church is founded by Christ approximately 2005 years ago. The other Church is established by atheist communists 48 years ago. One Church has been under severe persecution for the last 56 years since 1949. The other one is under the protection of the Chinese communist government and has not been persecuted. One Church is in full communion with the Pope and with the universal Church. The other one is not in communion with the Pope. One Church, of course, is the underground Roman Catholic Church. The other one is the official Patriotic church. Regardless the differences that I listed above, there are many bishops, cardinals, and other church hierarchies claim that they are the same church. Do not let anyone mislead you, even if he is a bishop or a Cardinal, into thinking that these two churches are the same church. They are not the same Church.”

One sincerely hopes that the tone will soon change.

Yesterday afternoon Slate ran my short essay on Maryknoll’s wonderful Chinese Seminary Teachers & Formators Project. This is something that I will be examining at greater length in the not too distant future. For now, I hope that the Slate piece gives readers a sense of the great depth of cultural interaction that has taken place between China’s Church and the rest of Catholicism over the last 15 years or so.

According to the Vatican, that’s when the long-awaited “Letter to Catholics in China” will be released. I haven’t been able to find the statement on the Vatican’s website, but the AP is reporting the news, and there’s no reason to disbelieve it (as noted here yesterday, rumors pegged the 30th earlier in the week).

I will be blogging some of my initial impressions of the letter late tomorrow afternoon or early evening (depending upon when I can download it!), and hopefully I’ll be able to lend some historical context. Then again, at a promised 25+ pages, the letter sounds rather comprehensive, and my two cents might not amount to much. We’ll see.

In the meantime, those who are interested in developing a better understanding of the unusual circumstances that have brought China’s Catholics to this most interesting point in history might look at Jean-Paul Wiest‘s 2002 paper, “Understanding the Roman Catholic Church in China.” It’s a relatively quick read (as academic papers go), but it’s by far the best introduction to the issues that will presumably be covered in the Pope’s letter.

[UPDATE: Just found the Vatican media advisory here. The Vatican press corps gets a look three hours earlier, so maybe the text will leak.]

The NBA draft is over, and the Milwaukee Bucks have placed themselves in the unenviable position of having drafted China’s Yi Jianlian at No. 7. Unenviable, because prior to the draft Yi and his handlers notified the Bucks and several other interested teams that he was only interested in playing in a city with a sizable Chinese population – like Chicago, New York, or Los Angeles. And just to prove the point, they refused to do the traditional pre-draft workouts for teams which didn’t interest Yi.

Now, I will be the first to praise Yi’s game. He’s a wonderful talent: a seven footer who runs like a deer and moves with a point guard’s agility. But let’s not forget that he’s been playing in the Chinese Basketball Association, where competition isn’t exactly stiff, and even generous scouts – like ESPN’s – suggest that he’s not going to be much better than Toni Kukoc, the fragile Croatian forward who never looked better than when he was playing alongside Michael Jordan during the second Chicago three-peat of the late 90s. After that, Kukoc faded into being a utility player – in Milwaukee.

Maybe Yi will be better. Maybe not. But what’s not in dispute is that there were several far superior players in this draft, and none of them refused to workout or be drafted by teams that didn’t meet their demographic criteria. As an elite Chinese athlete, Yi has long been coddled by the Chinese athletic authorities and – quite likely – authorities who have no interest beyond watching him on television. If he expects the NBA to treat him similarly, he’s in for a tough run. Commissioner David Stern is a consistent enforcer of the NBA’s rules, and he is not likely to take kindly to an upstart international star with designs on re-engineering the NBA draft.

A second factor in all of this that Yi and his handlers might want to consider before they do any more bad-mouthing of Milwaukee: Herb Kohl, the sole owner of the Milwaukee Bucks, also happens to be a four-term US Senator. Obviously, this situation isn’t going to become an international incident. But, then again, how eager is Yi to be in the position of bad-mouthing a senior US Senator’s hometown? How eager are Yi’s government handlers in China to see him do it?

Or, put another way: imagine how the Chinese government would react if a US basketball player publicly refused to play for a Chinese franchise in a city with a small number of expatriates. Now, imagine if that team were owned by a member of the Chinese Politburo.

A plug for Pico Iyer’s wonderful essay on airfare class divisions:

How much would you pay to enjoy six hours away from your fellow humans, in a chair that reclines? $1,500 an hour – or even more? And if someone invited you to spend $9,000 to pass a long afternoon in a fairly cramped lounge, munching peanuts and reading airline magazines, would you accept? How desperate are you to have access to 15 movies you never would pay to see in a theater, instead of 11?

These are such obvious and wise questions that I wonder why I’ve never seen them posed before.

The rest of Iyer’s essay is equally insightful, including an apt observation that the coach seats on many Asian airlines often have more amenities than the business class seats on US airlines (are you listening, Northwest Airlines?). But, in the end, his basic point is a simple and economic one:

The individual details are less important, though, than the economic assumptions behind the scam. Better seats should cost maybe 20 percent more, or (for movie stars) 50 percent more. But 1,900 percent?

You don’t have to be a philanthropist to realize that by enduring slightly more human company for six hours, you could build nine homes in Burundi, each big enough to house 10 people with the money left over. And if you want to keep the savings, with $9,000 you could take five weeklong, all-inclusive tours to Southeast Asia, for the price of just an afternoon’s greater comfort en route to London.

Several interesting developments suggesting that the Pope’s “Letter to Catholics in China” will be released in the next few days:

1. The ever-watchful Jennifer Ambrose pointed out to me that the Pope has named Archbishop Claudio Maria Celli to be the new President of the Pontifical Council for Social Communications. Two weeks ago I wrote a lengthy post concerning Celli and his little-known but long-standing role in Vatican-Chinese relations. As I explained, Celli was Pope John Paul II’s hand-selected “point man” on China, and so it was interesting to see a Vatican source close to the letter suggest that the letter would be introduced by Celli at a press conference. According to press reports, the Pontifical Council for Social Communications is responsible for articulating Vatican policy with the media – a task for which Celli is ideally suited when the letter is released.

2. UCAN is reporting that China’s open Church bishops have been called to Beijing for a meeting to last June 28-29. In the UCAN report, an official with the Catholic Patriotic Association denies that the meeting has anything to do with the Pope’s letter, and is merely a planning session for celebrations relating to the 50th anniversary of the founding of the CPA on July 15, 1957. However, several bishops contacted for the UCAN story indicate that the real purpose of the meeting is a discussion of the letter and how it should be received in China’s parishes. If so, it would seem likely that – as promised – Rome has sent a copy of the letter to the Chinese government, and the CPA has prepared a response. And that leads me to believe that the content of the letter might begin to leak over the next day or so.

3. Cardinal Ivan Dias, Prefect for the Congregation of the Evangelisation of Peoples (formerly Propaganda Fide), and Father Ciro Biondi, Secretary of the Pontifical Missionary Union, have called upon 610 female monasteries to devote a week of prayer “so that the Letter of the Holy Father is well received, China opens up to the Gospels and give unrestricted religious freedom to all believers.” AsiaNews seems to have run this story first, on June 25. The story gave no indication on when the week of prayer should start, but I’m guessing that the timing of this week should coincide with the letter’s release.

[Late Thursday night update. AsiaNews is reporting that the meeting of the open church bishops is actually in Huairou, just outside of Beijing, and the topic is in fact the Pope's letter and how to respond to it. The tone of the report is quite pessimistic, with some speculation as to what the designated response will be. In either case, we'll all know that response soon enough: A handful of blogs and other news sources are beginning to report the rumor that the letter will be published Saturday. It's a rumor that I heard earlier in the week, and I believe to be correct.]

A couple of weeks ago I blogged about China Daily’s use of scare quotes and lower case letters with the event that the rest of the world prefers to call the Cultural Revolution. In that post I failed to mention that “cultural revolution” was not just a mandate for China Daily; I should have added that other English-language publications closely monitored and reviewed by China’s censors are also required to use it.

Or were required to use it.

Last week the censors informed at least one of China’s English-language publications that they could remove the scare quotes and should now refer to the Cultural Revolution as the lower-case-c, lower-case-r cultural revolution (my information comes from someone connected to the publication in question). By myself, and with some others, I’ve been mulling over whether “cultural revolution” is better (meaning, more accurate) than cultural revolution. One friend suggests that cultural revolution is actually worse because it renders the event as something commonplace and regular, befitting no special notice. But another friend felt that the removal of the quotes was actually an improvement in that it took away any sense of irony or deprecation that the quotes might ordinarily endow.

A US congressional resolution calling for Japan to apologize for the use of sex slaves during World War II is – no surprise – generating quite a bit of positive interest in China. The Chinese have long demanded explicit recognition for this particularly heinous crime of the War, and they are no doubt appreciative of the support lent to their cause by the US government.

That said, I must admit that I nearly slipped off my treadmill at the gym this morning when I saw a wall of televisions suddenly flash images of Representative Tom Lantos of California speaking to the House Committee on Foreign Affairs. Lantos is a man of unimpeachable courage and moral credibility (a Jew, he served in the anti-Nazi underground during World War II), and he is also a long-time critic of China’s human rights record. For example, few were as vocal or vociferous in their criticism of google’s decision to allow Chinese censoring of internet searches than Lantos.

Unfortunately, I was listening to an ipod, and not the gym’s audio feed, so I couldn’t hear what the announcers had to say about Lantos. But judging from the length of the clip, and quotes from his testimony found online, I imagine that it was positive. Though likely inadvertent, I can’t help but think that the House’s determination to pass the Japan resolution will improve its overall image in Beijing, where – I’m told – the protectionist tilt of the Democratic majority has ruffled feathers.

I was in a gift shop in Ho Chi Minh City’s Tan Son Nhat International Airport, looking for something – anything – to take with me as a souvenir of my nearly two weeks in Vietnam (on assignment). The bottles of Vietnamese liquers stuffed with cobras were interesting; the T-shirts were nice; the pointy hats were promising. But then, in the back of the shop, I came across this:

That’s right – a Vietnamese-manufactured “wooden magnet puzzle” of the IDS Center in Minneapolis. For those not from the Upper Midwest, the IDS is the tallest building in downtown Minneapolis (what’s that I hear? A thousand web-surfers suddenly clicking elsewhere?). It’s also a beloved icon. For those of us who grow up in the Twin Cities, a visit to the IDS Center was a childhood event.

So of course I spent the roughly $5 and bought the puzzle.

I’ll admit, I was expecting disappointment, and the box practically promised it:

Actually, the IDS was completed in 1974, a fact that I learned from the lengthy Wikipedia entry on the IDS that the box label totally cribs – except for the date of completion.

Then again, who expects accuracy when we’re dealing with the world’s 124th tallest building?

While on the topic of shame-worthy, I should mention that it took me a good ten minutes to figure out how to put the thing together. The results are in the image below.

I realize that the photo doesn’t exactly lend the impression that this was a difficult assembly task. But in my defense, I’ll point out that the puzzle doesn’t exactly resemble the IDS as Philip Johnson envisioned it. The Crystal Court, in particular, is a lame approximation of the building’s best feature.

On the other hand, the fantasy park and two fake trees that ring the puzzle IDS – though a total fiction – are a fine suggestion for a downtown in need of some open space.

The outright propaganda feature is a dying art at China Daily, and I – for one – miss it greatly. So I must admit that I was absolutely delighted to read Wang Shanshan’s extended love letter to the PLA’s “attractive” Hong Kong garrison.

What does Wang see fit to tell us about the ever-virtuous Hong Kong PLA soldiers? Why, they’ve never once broken a traffic law, and they would surely never interfere with the working of Hong Kong’s courts. Last year, they re-scheduled a land-assault drill so as to avoid frightening beach-goers, a local yachting club, and the children of a nearby primary school. Locals who fall sick while visiting the garrison (and many do visit) are given expert medical care and the all-day company of a nurse. And out of respect for its neighbors, the PLA never, ever honks its car horns.

Of course, no paean to the virtues of the Chinese people would be complete without at least one back-handed slap at those whom the international community might incorrectly assume behave better than the heirs to 5000 years of civilization. Thus, Wang, knowing his genre, fulfills his obligation:

“Hong Kong people are always nice when they visit our barracks on the open days,” said Liao [a soldier stationed with the garrison]. “The are gentle and polite. They never spit or pick flowers. They showed us a society that is different from what I’ve seen in Hong Kong movies.”

Nice.

On two occasions in five years I have ridden in a Chinese taxi at night with the headlights purposely turned off. In both cases, I complained, and in both cases the driver patiently explained to me and my fellow passengers that he was saving fuel (he wasn’t – but I’ll leave that discussion to wikipedia).

I bring this up because of an experience that I recently had on the tarmac at Guangzhou’s Baiyun International Airport. I was on Shanghai Airlines flight 9302, Guangzhou to Shanghai’s Hongqiao Airport, departing at 2:30 PM on a tropical afternoon (temperatures exceeded 38 celsius that day). As we left the gate, and taxied to the runway, the plane slowly began to heat up. This would have been no matter except that we sat on the runway for twenty minutes, awaiting clearance for take-off. As we sat, the plane continued to heat up. After five minutes, I noticed people sweating, fanning themselves, and trying to turn on those annoying overhead vents that blow concentrated air on passenger heads . After ten minutes, I paged a flight attendant and asked whether the air-conditioner was on. She answered – no surprise – that it was not. I asked that it be turned on. She said that she would tell the pilot. Of course, she didn’t – I watched as she returned to her seat beside cockpit door and muttered something to another flight attendant, who was busy fanning herself.

I don’t know anything about jet mechanics, but it seems to me that turning on the air-conditioning in a pressurized cabin probably doesn’t draw down much more fuel than what is already being consumed by idling the engines on the tarmac. Maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know. If anybody can offer some insight into this, I’d appreciate it.

In an era when sampling and recording software render the art of songwriting more and more rare (and, in some quarters, borderline obsolete), a new Ryan Adams collection is a major event. So it is no small news – in my world – to learn that Ryan Adams will release his ninth album, Easy Tiger, on Tuesday.

Adams would have been a major artist at the height of the 1970s singer-songwriter era; that he is a major artist but a minor star now make him all the more valuable. Few musicians have his knowledge of American music; even fewer can actually work convincingly in so many genres. For me, personally, Adams is my favorite country artist of the last five years AND my favorite rock artist AND my favorite singer-songwriter. Some writers have criticized him for working in so many genres, but I’ve never understood why. In fact, I think one of the great virtues of Ryan Adams is his subtle but implicit ability to connect the dots between the various genres of American music in such a lush and soulful way.

A few tracks from the new album are posted on the Ryan Adams page over at myspace. They’re all great, but I find myself returning most often to “Two,” and the gentle, delicate vocal that opens the first verse. Other than Smokey Robinson, can anyone name an American male vocalist who sings a ballad with a more sincere and gentle vulnerability? (Ok, maybe Eugene Record on the Chi-Lites “Oh Girl). It’s an astonishing performance.

Reports from concerts indicate that Adams is concentrating more on his singing these days. In a lovely but brief City Pages review of his recent set at the Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis, Andrea Myers reports:

Adams sat in line with the rest of the musicians and fidgeted while he sang, unsure of what to do with his hands in absence of his guitar. “I sometimes wish I was in Iron Maiden,” Adams joked between songs. “Who could get nervous playing ‘Aces High’?”

It’s a fair point, made even more poignant by the fact that Adams is an avowed “hair metal” fan.

I had just finished writing the lengthy post (below) on Church property in China when I received a phone call from a friend suggesting that I take a look at David Barboza’s June 24 New York Times story about being detained at a Chinese toy factory. It is an excellent piece of work for many reasons, but for now I’ll merely point out a passage that deals with the de facto autonomy with which local governments operate in China:

Many experts have told me that one of the most serious problems in China is that the government lacks the power to control the nation’s Wild West entrepreneurs, deal makers and connected factory owners.

Bribery is rampant, and government corruption widespread. Just a few weeks ago, the top food and drug regulator was sentenced to death for taking huge bribes from pharmaceutical companies. But it’s not clear that strong messages like that will stop the anarchy.

“China effectively has no oversight over anything,” said Oded Shenkar, a business professor at Ohio State University and author of “The Chinese Century: The Rising Chinese Economy and Its Impact on the Global Economy, the Balance of Power and Your Job.”

“People have this idea they are Big Brother and everyone is under watch,” Mr. Shenkar said. “But this is not China. In China, local authorities often turn a blind eye to problems because maybe they’re invested in it.”

In addition to discussing this issue in the context of Church property, I’ve recently blogged about it here and here.

Earlier this week AsiaNews reported that the government of Henan Province has decreed the destruction (by dynamite!) of a well-known Marian shrine near Anyang. According to the article, upwards of 40,000 people visit the shrine during an annual pilgrimage that is scheduled for July 16. The shrine itself was built 1903-1905, and was nearly destroyed during World War II and the Cultural Revolution. Finally, the shrine is presumably licensed for use by the “open” Church; according to the AsiaNews article, on May 14 Anyang revoked the permit for both the shrine and the 2007 pilgrimage.

This story is beginning to ricochet around the blogosphere, with some commentators erroneously ascribing the action to the “Chinese government” (notably, Amy Welborn’s really excellent blog). Though it may seem like a subtle point, the “Chinese government” – insofar as that means a federal entity in Beijing – has nothing to do with this situation (if the AsiaNews article is to be believed). Instead, the local government of Henan Province – and, it seems, Henan’s governor himself – are behind it:

In the meantime, since the end of May a “working group” from the local government has installed itself in Tianjiajing. According to some suppositions, the local government move requisitioning the lands and abolishing the pilgrimage is due to the geographical position of the Church, on the summit, above a valley ideal for the building of a hotel or perhaps country villa of some Party member.

In other words, the local government’s motive for destroying the shrine likely has very little to do with religion or the suppression of it – and everything to do with greed and real estate. However, the fact that the shrine and church need to be registered with the local religious affairs authorities provides the rapacious individuals who want the property with the perfect means of seizing it. In effect, by rendering the property illegal, they can take it.

This is not a new or uncommon story in China. Media, Western and Chinese, have been reporting on illegal land grabs by property developers in collusion with local government for several years now. Nor is this the first instance in which Church property has been appropriated illegally by land developers. In November 2005, 16 nuns in Xi’an were beaten by thugs presumably hired by a property developer with eyes on property occupied by a Catholic school building.

The issue of Church property in China is a complicated one. During the Cultural Revolution, Church properties (and those of other religions) were appropriated by the Chinese government and converted into other uses, including government offices and factories. For example, Shanghai’s St. Ignatius Cathedral was converted into a grain warehouse. Below, a photo of the cathedral’s apse taken during the Cultural Revolution [and thanks to Fr. Tom Lucas, S.J., of the University of San Francisco, for the image]:

During the late 1970s, as China began to allow limited religious expression, China’s State Council took an interest in insulating China’s Catholic and Protestant organizations from foreign influence. One way of doing this, the State Council determined, was through the return of Church properties seized over the prior twenty years. That way, China’s religious could then generate money from their real estate and not have to depend upon foreigners. On July 16, 1980, the State Council issued “Document 188: Concerning the Real Estate of Religious Bodies.” The introduction included this highly illuminating paragraph:

The implementation of a policy on real estate of religious organizations is helpful to the carrying out of the principles of independence and autonomy of the Catholic and the Protestant Churches in our country. It is also helpful in the fight against the infiltration of foreign religious powers, and is also an appropriate means to solve the problem of self-support of religious organizations and the financial needs of religious personnel. Therefore, this task should be dealt with from a political perspective, and be treated as a special issue.

It is unclear whether Document 188 is still relevant. It may have been superseded by other State Council directives. But what is important to note is that – for various reasons – high-ranking officials in Beijing wanted Church property returned and respected. As with most matters of law in China, the degree to which the decree was followed varied by local government. For example, in Shanghai the local government has generally respected Church property, and most Church property has either been returned to the diocese or compensation has been arranged. But that is not the case in all dioceses.

In either case, it is worth noting that the Catholic community in Henan is not without recourse in the matter of their Marian shrine. An interesting paragraph from the AsiaNews story – that was left mostly unexplained – hints at alternatives:

“It’s unbelievable that they have done this “, one faithful tells AsiaNews. “These local communist leaders don’t even know the central governments laws governing religious polices, they only create useless and dangerous tension”. “We will never give in “says another faithful. “We are not afraid and we will defend our legitimate rights to the very end”.

How will they defend their rights? Well, as ridiculous as it may sound, litigation might be a legitimate option. In a recent column, Nicholas Kristof of the New York Times described how an underground Protestant in Shandong Province successfully sued a local police department after being arrested for running an unregistered house church [subscriber only]. Meanwhile, property owners throughout China (not counting religious ones) are learning how to successfully protect themselves from illegal appropriation by developers and local governments. In this case, like so many not related to religious property, the ability to turn back the developers will be very much limited by the location of the action and, I suspect, whether or not Beijing wants to step into the situation.