The man they couldnt silence branded a traitor (ritual, testimony)

[minime1111]

Copyright 2005 South China Morning Post Ltd.
South China Morning Post

August 14, 2005

SECTION: News; Pg. 12

LENGTH: 1301 words

HEADLINE: The man they couldn't silence Branded a traitor, ex-diplomat Chen Yonglin has a warning for his former political masters, reports Nick Squires

BODY:
In his smart grey suit, yellow tie and wire-framed glasses, Chen Yonglin looks every inch the loyal, understated consular official.

But these days the former first secretary's views on the country which some accuse him of betraying are anything but diplomatic. His soft voice and stiff politeness conceal a boiling anger towards his former political masters.

"My feelings about communism in China grew gradually, like a volcano," he says quietly. "The heat accumulated for a long time until one day it erupted."

China, he says, will never embark on the path to democracy under its communist leaders. The only alternative is revolution. It will happen, he believes, sooner rather than later.

"I believe the collapse of the dictatorship will happen in the foreseeable future. Look what happened to the Soviet Union. People's anger is building up. In the 16 years since the Tiananmen crackdown in 1989 there has been no change at all in the political system. There has to be revolution - there's no other way of getting rid of the totalitarian regime."

Mr Chen's life changed forever on May 26. That was the day he fled his job as first secretary at the Chinese consulate in Sydney and sought political asylum with the Australian immigration department.

He was turned down within 24 hours. Panic-stricken, he went on the run, catching the first train out of Sydney. After a few more days of frustrated dealing with immigration officials, Mr Chen went public. The man who was trying to come in from the cold decided to step out into the open.

He told the Australian press and public that Beijing operated a network of 1,000 spies and informers in Australia. Falun Gong members, pro-democracy activists and other dissidents were under constant surveillance. Many were harassed, and a handful had been kidnapped and forcibly repatriated, he said.

His claims were immediately dismissed by the Chinese embassy in Canberra as fiction, but they attracted huge interest in the Australian media.

The government found itself in a dilemma. At a time of growing trade ties with China, Canberra was at pains not to upset Beijing. Mr Chen was an embarrassment, but the attention he was attracting meant he could not be ignored.

Prime Minister John Howard's government finally relented after the opposition Labor Party condemned the delay in granting Mr Chen a visa as "inexcusable".

On July 8, Mr Chen was given permanent residency. He and his wife Jin Ping, 38, and their six-year-old daughter Fang Rong, will be able to apply for citizenship in two years.

"We will live a new life in Australia," Mr Chen, 37, said at the time. "That's my dream, to live a free life, and I will try my best to do something for the people who are still under the persecution of the Chinese dictatorship."

China condemned Australia for granting Mr Chen the visa. In a statement, the Chinese foreign ministry called Mr Chen's accusations of a spying network "lies not worthy of response". It said Mr Chen only defected because he was "running away" at the end of his posting. "In order to stay permanently in Australia, he fabricated all kinds of lies," it said.

The Chinese ambassador to Australia, Fu Ying , said Mr Chen's defection might encourage other Chinese diplomats to do the same. "He has had to go to the extent of attacking his motherland in order to be accepted in another country," she said. "He's not the first and he will not be the last."

Mr Chen joined the ministry of foreign affairs in 1991 after completing a four -year degree at the foreign affairs university in Beijing, where, among other subjects, he studied western political philosophy. Like thousands of other students, he took part in the Tiananmen Square demonstrations. The seeds of rebellion had been planted long before, however - Mr Chen's father was beaten to death by Maoist cadres during the Cultural Revolution.

In 1994, Mr Chen was posted to Fiji and spent four years as the secretary for political affairs, engaged in efforts to thwart Taiwan's diplomatic overtures towards South Pacific nations. His dissatisfaction with the Chinese government grew. "We spent a lot of money on those small countries. But I was thinking 'people in parts of China are still suffering from hunger and poverty'. It seemed wrong."

He arrived at the consulate in Sydney in April 2001, where his main task, he says, was to monitor the activities of Falun Gong practitioners and to enact "counter-measures" against the movement.

That meant compiling lists of members, spying on meetings and rallies and trying to turn the Chinese-Australian community against Falun Gong.

"I didn't know much about Falun Gong," Mr Chen said. "Chinese propaganda said it was an evil cult. But once I came into contact with them I realised they were harmless. Their values are honesty and compassion. The real cult is communism." The Chinese government is scared of Falun Gong partly because of the number of adherents, but also because the movement threatens to fill a spiritual vacuum in China, Mr Chen believes.

He bridles at any suggestion that he has betrayed his country. But, his family, who live in Zhejiang province , have been told by friends and neighbours that their son is a traitor to the nation.

"I am against the CCP Chinese Communist Party but I'm not against my country or the Chinese people," he insists. "The CCP doesn't represent the Chinese people."

There is no questioning Sydney's charms. But suggesting that a diplomat like Mr Chen would give up a successful 14-year career and run the risk of never being able to return to his homeland simply for the sake of enjoying Sydney's beaches and bars seems far-fetched.

His outspoken attacks on the human rights abuses of the communist regime leave little doubt that his views are genuinely held.

He said he spent his four years in the consulate in Sydney covertly helping Falun Gong, pro-Tibet groups and democracy activists. He had to seek political asylum in Australia at the end of his posting because he knew his successor would uncover his secret activities.

Mr Chen has been debriefed by Australian intelligence agencies but is understandably reluctant to divulge details of what exactly he told the spooks in Canberra.

The Australian government has played down his value as an intelligence asset. But there was no such coyness when Mr Chen travelled to Washington last month where he told a Congressional committee of China's covert attempts to stifle Falun Gong practitioners overseas.

Committee chairman Chris Smith commended him for his testimony, describing it as "absolutely explosive".

So explosive, in fact, that Mr Chen still fears being kidnapped by Chinese spies, who he insists are capable of "every dirty thing".

The former diplomat admits that it will be hard to forge a new life in Australia. His English is decent, but by no means fluent. He has approached a number of political consultancies, hoping to trade on his intimate knowledge of the Chinese state apparatus. His wife, a lawyer, would also like to work. Their daughter, meanwhile, has re-enrolled in a Sydney primary school, close to where the family live.

Mr Chen has pledged to do all he can to help dissident groups and bring about the collapse of the "evil" communist government. He points to the growing number of riots and violent demonstrations in China's provinces, most of them reportedly over land disputes. Regime change, he believes, is inevitable.

"People know they're being ruled by a wolf in sheep's clothing," he says. "Their anger has accumulated for a long time." He searches for a word for a moment, before returning to a favourite metaphor. "The communist government is sitting on a volcano," he warns.





LOAD-DATE: August 14, 2005