碎篇 // Suipian // Fragments

Hunter bookstore, 'hyperlocal' journalism, and the “深乡下”

Welcome to the 11th edition of Suipian, my personal newsletter in which I share thoughts and resources that help me make sense of Chinese society and its relationship to the rest of the world. I am Tabitha Speelman, a Dutch journalist based in Beijing and Rotterdam. See here for more introduction to Suipian.

Greetings from Rotterdam. Since the last edition, I wrote about the 60th anniversary of the Cultural Revolution in May, and a lot about China-Europe trade tensions and the like.

Today a story I wrote a while back about Hong Kong media was published, which with recent arrests and more media closures unfortunately turns out to be timely. I discuss some of my Hong Kong reporting experiences below. It is not the most uplifting edition, but I hope you get something out of it. Thanks for reading!

随笔 // Suibi // Notes

Sharing thoughts or resources related to my work as a correspondent

大陆化

I was already planning to mention here how much I liked my visit to Hunter bookstore in Hong Kong this past April, which came shortly after its neighbor bookstore Book Punch was raided. And now Hunter has met the same fate. I was only a visitor passing through, but even a short visit to the Sham Shui Po store made clear that bookstore owner Leticia Wong, who together with her partner was arrested last week on Wednesday and released on bail two days later, had created a very special place.

From the display about the Tai Po area, which was struck by the fire disaster last Fall, to shelves on Hong Kong history and social movements, but also on mainland Chinese politics and society, Hunter’s book selection was excellent and thoughtful – and in the current political environment incredibly brave. When I visited I found the vibe peaceful, with Wong herself a kind presence at the cash register.

Wong, who won a district council seat in the 2019 local election but like many resigned in 2021 following the new political vetting requirements, opened the bookstore in 2022. In a Facebook post from 2024, she wrote that people on a sinking ship continue to have options, and that she wanted to keep “building”. I recommend this WOMEN我们 story for more on her views. It also mentions Wong’s experience in mainland China, and her desire to go beyond “成見, 情緒, 私怨”.

I was in Hong Kong to report a story on the media landscape (see here for the feature). I knew it would be about the plummeting press freedoms, often described as a rapid “大陆化” or “mainlandization” of Hong Kong’s media. But it was different to hear directly from journalists and scholars about how things have been changing, or even just to see the plainclothes security personnel standing around the press area outside the court hearings of the independent commission investigating the Tai Po fire.

How the local press has covered the aftermath of the fire turned out to be an example of broader trends. One journalist told me that, while local media have generally been doing a good job covering the ‘human story’ of the victims and their struggles, the early investigation into the corrupt construction sector quickly dried up, and it had been difficult to find anyone willing to discuss the government response, such as the decision to not rebuild the estate, even though many of the residents would like that.

This reflects a broader downturn of investigative reporting in the city. As Hong Kong Baptist University journalism professor Rose Luqiu Luwei explained, Hong Kong media increasingly stick to “just the facts”. The fear and confusion brought on by the speed of change and uncertainty around enforcement can make it even harder to assess risks than in China. “In China people have more experience with censorship. In Hong Kong it is brand new. They don’t know what the line is.”

Having followed the scene since the 1990s, when she moved from Shanghai to work at Phoenix TV, Luwei saw the growing Chinese influence in Hong Kong media first-hand (“even since before the hand-over”). But, like in other parts of Hong Kong life, the 2020 national security law has greatly accelerated that process, with the liberal side of the previously polarized media spectrum all but disappearing and national security authorities wielding increasingly direct influence over managerial appointments and editorial affairs in mainstream media.

There are some bright spots in the landscape. I visited Lantau Connects, one of a wave of community papers that were opened since 2020, an example of what an interesting CUHK study describes as a trend of hyperlocal citizen journalism. Founder Siu Yin Fung wants to connect a new generation to their local history, resulting in some beautiful copy. Since the fire, I have also been following some of the newer online outlets, such as 法庭線 and 集誌社, more closely. Compared to the outlets their founders previously worked at they are more marginal, but they seem to do important, outspoken work (see for instance this recent interview with journalist Ronson Chan).

In several conversations, China also came up as a place to learn from. While many are leaving Hong Kong media for other careers (yet another mainland parallel), some who stay also express solidarity with their mainland colleagues. “It has never been a friendly climate for journalists there. But people kept doing their jobs,” as one person put it.

Reading Leticia Wong’s post about the sinking ship, I was reminded of something the Chinese feature writer Li Haipeng told me in Beijing about ten years ago, also referencing a sinking ship. On the sinking ship of Chinese media, the journalists who were still holding on to the mast were transitioning from investigative and other types of journalism to the ‘softer’ non-fiction writing I was interviewing him about. “船已经沉得，已经看不见那个船，只有桅杆还立在上面,” he said.

At that time, it was still hard to imagine Hong Kong media as part of that development, let alone think of it as a place where journalists and others receive extremely heavy jail sentences. The recent experience of Chinese media and public life shows that some ships do indeed go down, and that there are people who keep building new vehicles for journalism, storytelling and community against the odds. The costs individuals like Wong can pay for their resilience are the darkest part of that story.

Hunter bookstore from the outside, postcards sold in the store, the Lantau Connects

点赞 // Dianzan // Likes

Recommendations in and out of the news cycle

That the NYT’s Vivian Wang had her journalist visa canceled is really sad news. She focused on the societal reporting that, as a well-read MANG MANG feature on disappointing work experiences in foreign media put it, has in recent years been squeezed by “地缘政治、经贸往来与军事博弈的宏大叙事”. While I couldn’t agree more, and the story does a good job laying out problems facing societal reporting on the ground in China as well as in foreign editorial rooms, reports on the state of the foreign press tend to focus on US (and UK) media. These influential Anglophone media have faced a sharp drop in capacity since the visa conflict that started under Trump 1, with the NYT going from 12 foreign positions to I believe now just one. But for European media that is not the case, and I’d be interested in a round-up that includes East-Asian, continental European and other 外媒 trajectories in China. See here for a nice video of some of Wang’s work.

In Hong Kong I also had the pleasure of visiting and participating in a group discussion in 过滤气泡, a public space in Jordan founded by communication scholar Fang Kecheng that has organized over 140 events in its first year of operation and aims to encourage more offline life (“手机失联，生活上线”). I recommend visiting if you’re in HK. (See here for a great write-up of one recent event with authors Zou Sicong and Zhang Xiaoman.)

On the drug rape cases involving Chinese diaspora members, I learnt a lot from this 不合时宜 episode, which included a discussion of what it meant for the German court to be filled with Chinese women who were there to “表达共同的愤怒” and this interview with a victim by investigative journalist Zhaoyin Feng. This Caixin story reports some information on similar crime in China.

On 谷雨, a devastating read on a young person’s medical nightmare ending in complex disability, written by themselves as a graduation project. Maybe that does not sell it, but it is worth a read. Out of many, Shenzhen University is the only institution looking ok in this.

An interesting reflection by Peking University law researcher Zhao Hong, on his support for a new law that strengthens privacy by making it harder for employers and other entities to access information on administrative offences – and the public backlash he faced over that support.

This May saw several very deadly industrial accidents in China, first in a Liuyang fireworks factory (37 victims), and then in a Shanxi coal mine (82 victims). These stories by 青年志 and 正面链接 go deep into what the industry in Liuyang is like, also amid the current crackdown, and this Phoenix story lays out the situation in Shanxi. As one worker describes the systematic misreporting in the sector, “除了工人挖煤是真的，其他都是假的”.

A short piece on the big change in the culture around buying real estate, as the author sells off their 小县城 home. “一个叙事的破灭，即使是当时觉得坚不可摧的叙事，破灭来的还是那么快，彻底.”

The sympathetic stories of Yu Shun and Zhenzhen, a couple running a video channel on rural life that is less “李子柒式” countryside aesthetics and more journalistic realism. As Zhenzhen articulates their mission: “我们看到的全是问题。他们现在的生活相比之前肯定是好很多的…但还需要更好一些. ”Also this (more aestheticized) feature on living in a village outside Shanghai, in the “深乡下”.

Journalist Liu Min on the Chinese presence she encountered during a recent trip she made to Indonesia. I also keep hearing of people traveling to Indonesia for work, research or travel in the past two years. “不仅仅是大型国企、央企，也包含互联网大厂，和海量的大中小型私企、个体户。这一点在印尼生活的方方面面都可以感受到.”

I would have loved to see this exhibition on Chinese quilts in Boston. There is also a book.

That’s it for now. Thanks for reading :)