Shops shut as thousands vent fury in Shenzhen


Justin Mitchell


April 18, 2005


  
Protesters, carrying anti-Japan banners and calling for a stronger China, march on downtown Shenzhen.
JUSTIN MITCHELL

If you happened to work for a Japanese-owned or related company in downtown Shenzhen Sunday, chances are you had the day off.

For the third Sunday in as many weeks, thousands of anti-Japanese protesters took to the streets of the city venting their outrage at what they perceive to be distortions and omissions in a Japanese history textbook, Japan's attempts to gain a permanent seat on the United Nations' Security Council, the disputed Senkaku/Diaoyu islands and just about anything else Japanese connected that they could seize on.

As such, many Japanese-linked businesses were closed, advertisements were covered over and one posh Japanese-related shopping mall, Jusco, in which windows were broken a week ago, appeared to be sealed off completely and ringed with People's Liberation Army soldiers and police.

``I'm very angry about the textbook,'' said 36-year-old Peng Zhaodi, a housewife who was one of the tens of thousands who paraded slowly and generally peacefully for about four hours through corridors of soldiers and police in Shenzhen's two major retail areas, Hua Qiang Dei and Dong Men. ``The Japanese are not supposed to deny their past.''

Like many other protesters, Peng said she had joined the march ``spontaneously'' and added that the paper flag she carried urging a boycott of Japanese goods had been given to her ``by a friend.''

Marchers, many carrying Japanese mobile phones and recording the event with Japanese digital and video cameras, chanted slogans urging a boycott, sang the Chinese national anthem and shouted ``join us!'' to onlookers lining the streets.

Many carried signs and wore T-shirts advocating the same themes.

``If we don't buy their products, they will all starve to death,'' one mother was overheard explaining to her small daughter who had asked her why a boycott made sense.

Police vans with loudspeakers urged the crowd to ``please remain calm,'' ``resist the influence of evil groups'' and to ``always remember the lessons of history.''

What evil groups or lessons they referred to was unclear - whether June 4, 1989 when unruly protesters met a bloody end in the Tiananmen Square massacre or, possibly, the 1937 Nanjing massacre.

While the authorities urged calm, they did nothing to stop an occasional burning of a Japanese flag, or two rather pathetic incidents of vandalism.

Lacking a specific site at which to target their discontent - such as a Japanese consulate - the marchers took a break beneath a large Hitachi billboard and watched for more than an hour as several young men, one carrying a sword, tried to peel the offending advert away amid cheers and more sloganeering.

That mission accomplished, the next target was a Hong Kong-owned Japanese rice and noodle bowl chain that the owners had padlocked, complete with a red and white sign that proclaimed the business was ``100 percent Hong Kong-owned, we love our motherland.''

It didn't stave off the wrath of the protesters, though, who cheered lustily and threw water bottles and vegetables at the offending noodle shop as a young man with a handy stepladder and a hammer smashed the store's neon sign and slowly tried to scrape and peel away a large picture of a sumo wrestler.

Occasionally, a store occupant would raise the metal door shield part way up to peer out at the crowd, only to quickly slide it back as another rain of plastic bottles and vegetables showered the storefront.

As the sign was smashed, police on Honda motorcycles moved around the edge of the crowd, which either failed or chose to ignore the Shenzhen government's connection with a major Japanese manufacturer.

``Tell the world the truth. This is a spontaneous activity sponsored by Chinese youth because Japanese invaded our island,'' said 69-year-old retired college professor Shen Lantian.

``The Japanese should face their past as they are a developing economy like China.''

Shen, it turned out, was a retired chemistry professor, obviously a man more at home with Bunsen burners than the realities of international economics.

A few others were more pragmatic.

Thirty-year-old Liu Shangwu, who sells printed circuit boards, said while he joined the marchers, he didn't agree with the call for a boycott. ``We are too connected. If it's done, it should be step-by-step. I don't agree with the Japanese government's actions, they must apologize for them, but I also have business with Japanese. Not all Japanese are bad, mostly only the government.''

Eddie Mong, a 60-year-old retired Hong Kong police sergeant, said he joined the crowd out of professional curiosity. ``The police are doing a very good job,'' he said.

justin.mitchell@singtaonewscorp.com

 


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