Everyone watching these horrific actions will be struck by how they were organised via social media. Free flow of information can be used for good. But it can also be used for ill.

And when people are using social media for violence we need to stop them. So we are working with the police, the intelligence services and industry to look at whether it would be right to stop people communicating via these websites and services when we know they are plotting violence, disorder and criminality.

So went PM David Cameron’s statement to the House of Commons this afternoon in the wake of the intense rioting and looting that has spread across London and other English cities this week.

This is not the first time technology has been blamed for chaos, disorder or social unrest. Christian Fuchs cites Stanley Cohen’s 1972 publication, Folk Devils and Moral Panics, which details how popular culture and media — from comic books to films, music to computer games — have long been deemed triggers of violence. Social media is the twenty-first century addition to that list.

But blaming the riots on the powers of social media is both incorrect and a convenient way out of addressing the deeper, hugely convoluted issues that contributed to this week’s destructive events. Let’s be clear: social media were not a cause but a facilitator. Riots were organised before people were BBM’ing. And while social media platforms were indeed used to organise rioting and looting, they were just as easily adopted to co-ordinate the widespread clean-ups that occurred across the country in the days following the chaos.

I’m in complete agreement with Jeff Jarvis: a social media crackdown is the wrong response to these riots.

Enforcing social media restrictions would do nothing to separate the UK from the authoritarian regimes it so often pinpoints for infringing freedom of expression. The very reason the Chinese government blocked access to Twitter and Facebook — and in so doing deemed the Internet a national security threat — was the deadly ethnic riots that took place in Xinjiang in 2009. So precisely what would the difference be were Cameron to use the UK riots as a justification for banning certain individuals from using social media?

In addition, targeting “suspected rioters”, the content they upload and which communications technologies they use evidently raises questions. Suspected on what basis? What sort of content will be deemed offensive, or could result in disorder? Who will decide the parameters of who is free to express, and using which platform?

There are complex and deep-set tensions this week’s violence has brought to the surface; from race-related issues to youth disenfranchisement, from police tactics to the relationship between leaders and communities. One would hope Cameron would take a deeper look at these before setting out plans to clamp down on communication tools, plans that risk restricting our fundamental right to freedom of expression.

My reasons for leaving are mainly personal. As Adam Minter so poignantly alludes to, embracing life abroad while sacrificing loved ones from home is a difficult trade-off. I am incredibly fortunate to come from a family who pushed me to follow my curious mind and throw myself into the unknown. But being someone who needs a steady support system, my father’s simple words rung ever more true as I spent time alone grappling with a language that constantly beat me down: “nothing is more important than family.”

Yet, my homecoming will be a bittersweet one. Earlier this month my paternal grandmother, the all-seeing matriarch of my family, passed away. Being absent for the death of a woman who has always been present in my life has been jarring, making me only too aware of the disconnect one goes through when they live away from home. While distance can help with grief – you don’t have to deal with daily reminders of your loss, and you face no alternative but to carry on with your daily life abroad – knowing that the home I will go back to won’t be the home I remember…well, for that there are no words.

While she was quietly supportive, my grandmother was never completely sold on the idea of my living in the Middle Kingdom. The distance was “too far”, stories of filthy restaurants horrified her (I spared her tales of swill oil and melamine-infused milk) and, a product of her put-up-and-shut-up generation, she simply didn’t see the appeal of continuing my studies in a metropolis that couldn’t sit still when I could (or should) “find a job” in London.

But while she showed little interest in China, what never failed to strike me about living here was how often I felt Nana – southern Italian to her bones, ferocious, righteous and vivacious (her surname translated to ‘full of vigour’) – in the elderly Chinese women I’d see. In the faces that showed struggle, strength, stories; in the limitless persistence you could almost taste; in the loving ways they kissed the round cheeks of their grandchildren. I was so often taken back to the late summer evening when this woman taught me how to tie my shoelaces, the countless hours she spent teaching me how to cook, and a balmy night in Sardinia when she told my sisters and me about my father’s ex-girlfriends (prefaced with a “don’t tell your Mum, for heaven’s sake”).

In my two years here I’ve continually been reminded that, in several ways, China and Italy are far more similar than Italy and the UK. Professionally, it is next to impossible difficult to get anywhere in China without guanxi (connections), as it is in Italy. The family unit is central. Food is central. In southern Italy, face (or honour, more specifically) carries similar importance as in China. These reminders helped to shoulder some of the culture shock that crept in unannounced, and made my second (or perhaps third) home feel more natural.

Having to say goodbye to a place that has been home for two years, and say a strange sort of hello to the home I come from, is not going to be easy. Without wanting to spill a river of cliches, there are obvious things about China I will miss. The speed and direction of change (“dizzying and churning”, as Evan Osnos puts it) never failed to amaze me, and I would always miss it whenever I returned to a steady, static London. I savoured that no two days would be the same, that no matter how used you got to daily life, something always jump out and surprise me. As a journalist friend of mine once put it, “I can never quite figure this place out.” At times of course, this feeling of the rug constantly pulled from beneath me took its toll, and I wanted nothing more than a simple day with no wild surprises; but from a reporter’s point of view, China is an amazing story.

Food scandals notwithstanding, I’ll also miss living on one of the most bustling roads of the French Concession, with its baozi stands, pastry stalls, the morning pancake vendor, the endless stream of fresh markets (and, for those moments when only pasta con pesto will do, the amazing Avocado Lady). Shanghai is home to some incredible and inexpensive regional Chinese restaurants, and I plan on working my way through as many provincial cuisines as possible before 10^th July.

Of course, there are the simple daily pleasures I’ll cherish back home. Not having to open the curtains in the morning and assess how damaged my lungs would be by the end of the day if I were to walk rather than take the bus. Not having to wear a down jacket indoors during winter and have locals tell me I’m still wearing far too few layers. No longer thinking I’ve built up some semblance of a bond with my local fruit seller only for her to continue shafting me for a kilo of oranges. And if there’s one thing that keeps me up at night, it’s Chinese rules and regulations about gift-giving; I look forward to simpler days of M&S plants and Bendicks mints.

But that’s enough ruminating. A goodbye would not be a goodbye without a few final thank-yous. I am deeply grateful to all the China hands and reporters I have met in Shanghai and Beijing for their advice and insight, as well as the friends from LSE who stayed in Shanghai and offered words of encouragement over coffee. I’ve been lucky to spend my two years here in the company of the brilliant and talented Christine H. Tan of Shanghai Shiok!. From listening to my concerns from the daily to the long-term – usually over substantial portions of hong shao rou – she has been nothing short of a sister. Thanks are due to Adam Minter for his consistent encouragement and discussions of Prince versus Michael Jackson; to Malcolm Moore for listening to my career concerns. Much gratitude also to Rebecca MacKinnon, Oiwan Lam and many others at Global Voices for their support over the past few years.

I’ll be joining Index on Censorship as an editorial intern at the end of July. The next blog entry will be from EC1. Hope you’ll continue to read on the other side.

In other news: my China chapter will soon be reaching an end. In July I will move back to the UK, where I’ll be joining Index on Censorship as an editorial intern. A ‘farewell China’ post is in the pipeline. Until then…

Kenneth Clarke. Image from conservativeparty's Flickr photostream (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0).

Justice Secretary Kenneth Clark has probably had better weeks than the one just gone. On Wednesday, he was pushed by David Cameron to apologise for the indelicate remarks he made on BBC Radio 5 Live regarding rape. Discussing the coalition’s plans to reduce sentences for those who plead guilty to rape from 33% to 50%, the justice secretary said,

That includes date rape, 17-year-olds having intercourse with 15-year-olds. A serious rape, with violence and an unwilling woman, the tariff is much longer than that.

Obviously taken aback by the mention of “serious rape” (as opposed to frivolous? Trivial?), presenter Victoria Derbyshire said, “rape is rape.” Clarke’s response? “No, it is not.”

Clarke’s words were indeed poorly chosen. Rape is serious, regardless of whether or not violence was involved. The point he was trying (but failed) to get at was that the Criminal Justice system treats certain rape cases with more severity than others, with punishments varying based on aggravating factors, as David Allan Green explains here.

But he did himself no favours by later appearing on Sky News citing a ”classic rape, where someone jumps out from behind a bush”. It is disconcerting that a justice minister and once-practising lawyer who has seen not a small amount of rape cases in his time, would suggest there is such a thing as a “classic” rape, never mind the fact that most rapes are not committed by a stranger in woodland but by someone the victim knows.

The fallout was immense. Ed Miliband made swift (and, perhaps, opportunistic) call during Prime Minister’s Questions for Clarke to resign. Pressure from No.10 forced Clarke to clarify and apologise for his comments. Appearing on BBC’s Question Time, he said,

All rape is serious. It’s one of the gravest crimes. My choice of words was wrong. It’s because I got bogged down in a silly exchange.

He also pledged to “choose his words more carefully in future.”

A sizeable portion of the vehement response to Clarke’s blundering comments rested on the argument that they are proof of a wider cultural mindset that routinely undermines the crime’s severity. Laurie Penny writes,

Clarke’s comments play into the weary stereotype that rape is not rape if the victim knew the rapist, or if the victim had a drink, or if the victim has consented to sex on a previous occasion, or if he or she was wearing a short skirt – that rape is only really rape when a moustache-twirling, knife-wielding ruffian assaults an unsuspecting virgin in a burqa in a backstreet.

(…)

Ken Clarke’s repulsive, reactionary comments are part of a culture that still misunderstands consent, punishes female sexual agency, and wilfully ignores the scale and prevalence of rape.

Taking into account Amnesty International’s 2005 research highlighting the UK’s ingrained blame culture, compounded by our shockingly low 6% conviction rate for rape, Penny’s argument makes sense. Yet calls for Clarke’s resignation are futile: with him as Justice Secretary or not, the ill-informed attitudes to rape that we have in the UK will continue to linger.

The added kicker of the whole event is that it could have been a useful opportunity to push forward a debate on rape and the failings of the criminal justice system, as Baroness Stern’s review last year highlighted. Perhaps now that he has apologised for his serious error, we can move on to a serious discussion.

[And] that shoddy reporting, I’m pretty sure, was built upon a preconceived belief that, when in doubt in China, assume the totalitarian explanation. Now, I’m not doubting that there’s enough totalitarianism to go around, but when you start assuming it, rather than reporting it, you have a tendency to create a comic book image of China that has more in common with the Cultural Revolution than it does with contemporary reality. When the comic book treatment is warranted, then write it up (but be careful you’re not having your leg pulled, or somebody will call you on it); but when it’s not, when there’s something more subtle going on, or nothing’s going on at all, it does a real disservice to readers to just assume the worst and damage reputations – in this case, Dylan’s -  in the process.

(Speaking of the NYT, the Hidden Harmonies China Blog has also refuted its recent ‘Jasmine becomes contraband in China’ story. Worth a read.)

Poster of Ai Weiwei. Image from Akbar2's Flickr photostream (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0).

Chinese Vice Foreign Minister Fu Ying this week defended the arrest of dissident artist Ai Weiwei, whose whereabouts remain unknown after he was detained at Beijing Capital airport in April. Fu said,

There are rules and laws in China that need to be applied just like here. And individuals, maybe they are your friends, maybe they agree with you more than others, but that should not make (them) … above the law.

She concluded,

It is very condescending for the Europeans to come in to tell China that some people are beyond the law.

The Telegraph’s Peter Foster disagrees. He writes that growing foreign concerns are instead “about the real fear of where China is heading”:

China is going to shake the world over the next 50 years – for good or ill – and the shape of the Chinese state is therefore of concern to us all. China can bluster all it likes, it can posture and ignore the criticisms, but modern China does not exist in isolation.

It has emerged as a rising power precisely because it has engaged with the world, signing up to a host of international agreements on trade and politics that imply certain norms of behaviour. The benefits of rejoining the world community can’t come, as Chinese foreign policy mandarins say, with “no strings attached”.

Ai, who built the 2008 Olympics Bird’s Nest stadium and whose sculptures of the twelve Chinese zodiac heads are currently on display at Somerset House in London, has long been an outspoken critic of the ruling Communist Party. In 2008, he led an investigation to collect the names of students killed in the Sichuan earthquake as a result of the government’s poor construction of schools.

His art is inseparable from such activism: at a show in Munich, his Remembering installation was filled entirely with 9,000 children’s backpacks which spelled out the words of a grieving Sichuan mother: “She lived happily for seven years in this world.”

Ai has faced growing pressure from the authorities in recent months. He was placed under house arrest last November for pledging to host a party to commemorate the demolition of his Shanghai studio, and in December was prevented from leaving the country amid fears he would attend the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony for imprisoned writer Liu Xiaobo.

Ai’s arrest on 3rd April occurred in the midst of an increased crackdown on potential dissent in China. This followed online calls (which, it must be remembered, originated outside China) for a “jasmine revolution”, inspired by the Arab Spring during which regimes in Tunisia and Egypt were toppled. For a time, Xinhua reported that Ai was being investigated for “economic crimes”.

Tens of people, many of whom are human rights lawyers, remain detained or missing as part of this deepening repression. The crackdown is indicative of of the Communist Party’s fear – and acute awareness – that aggrieved members of Chinese society are becoming more widespread, from unemployed university graduates to migrant workers, from truckers in Shanghai through to those disillusioned by food safety scandals. By targeting the country’s most outspoken activists, the CCP is attempting to contain such grievances.

China has argued before that the West’s rallying cries for the release of dissidents undermines the rule of law in the People’s Republic. It called the awarding of the Nobel Peace prize to Liu Xiaobo, who co-authored pro-democracy document Charter 08, a “political farce” that insulted China’s judicial system. Yet if Ai’s detention, with its unknown whys and wheres, symbolises anything, it is the very lawlessness of the state.

It could be said that Ai’s message of freedom perhaps carries more weight and garners more followers in the West than in China: the rhetoric of human rights is centred within a small intellectual circle, lower on the priority list for a larger portion of a nation whose personal wealth has increased while memories of abject poverty remain fresh.

That does not mean his arrest has no ramifications on Chinese society: on the contrary, it illustrates a worrying development, in which the rule of law is growing ever more shady, compounded by a leadership that is dealing with its paranoia of social discord with an increasingly repressive hand. As a result, the prospect of political change that is due to follow economic reforms seems further away on the horizon.

WikiLeaks editor-in-chief Julian Assange. Image from espenmoe's Flickr photostream (CC BY 2.0).

Perhaps the most sinister aspect of the whistleblowing site WikiLeaks is that, in spite of it championing openness and transparency, it dislikes being scrutinised itself. This has become all the more evident this week, with the New Statesman publishing the full text of a gagging order signed by almost all WikiLeaks staff members, Clause 5 of which states a £12m penalty to be imposed on any employee who reveals details about WikiLeaks’ daily operations.

Revealing the existence of the gagging order is itself a breach, likening it to the superinjunctions currently stirring opinion and grabbing column space in the UK.

Guardian journalist and former WikiLeaks aide James Ball described how the site’s creator and editor-in-chief Julian Assange demanded staff and volunteers sign the document. Ball himself refused, arguing that such orders confirm suspicions that the whistleblowing site is unaccountable. He writes,

WikiLeaks is not democratically accountable. Julian’s argument that it is accountable because it is funded by donations could just as equally be made of KKK, or the BNP. It has no board, or no oversight. If any organisation in the world relies on whistleblowers to keep it honest, it is WikiLeaks.

In such circumstances, silencing dissent is not just ironic, it’s dangerous. WikiLeaks needs to get out of the gagging game.

New Statesman’s David Allan Green has also pointed out that WikiLeaks is accountable to no-one (it has no democratic mandate, after all), arguing that the site “remains a powerful but undemocratic and unaccountable entity that shows a general disregard for both the rule of law.”

Chiming in today was Daniel Domscheit-Berg, an ex-WikiLeaks spokesman, saying,

WikiLeaks has become what it despises: a repressive organisation, using restrictive contracts to gag its staffers, cultivating intransparency and unaccountability.

The strange legal world of the organisation garnered attention in February, when it appeared Assange was threatening The Guardian with legal action following the publication of WikiLeaks: Inside Julian Assange’s War on Secrecy, written by two of the newspaper’s journalists. Assange tweeted that the book contained “malicious libels”. While the paper confirmed that no formal threat had been received, it remains puzzling that an advocate of open societies and governments would consider using British libel laws to challenge the newspaper, one to whom he gave exclusive access of the Afghan and Iraq warlogs, and the US diplomatic cables.

WikiLeaks has made important contributions to the 21st century mediascape – top of my list is rightly “waking up” journalism, as well as promoting transparency and online freedom. Yet seeking to legally punish – with a fine of £12 million, no less – anyone who leaks against it, only discredits the values of accountability, openness and transparency that Assange fiercely argues his organisation promotes. We’re left with an entity whose legal world is far from clear; indeed, it has become a sinister haze.

Dilma Rousseff and Hu Jintao during Dilma's recent trip to China. Image from Blog do Panalto's Flickr photostream (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0).

Much of the ink spilled on the ever-deepening relationship between Brazil and China has tended to focus on the former’s “China syndrome.” While strengthening its currency and helping Brazil to shoulder the worst of the global economic crisis, a flood of cheap Chinese imports has also depleted workforces in various Brazilian industries, undermining the competitiveness of the country’s manufactured exports. What we have been left with is an unequal relationship, rather than one of interdependence.

Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff has addressed this by imposing tariffs on footwear and leading anti-dumping campaigns against Chinese goods. She is also well aware of the need for a diversification of trade to ease the “syndrome”, having signed a joint statement with China urging deeper cooperation between the two at the recent BRICs summit in Hainan.

Dilma’s subsequent pressure on China to buy more than her country’s soy and iron ore seems to have produced swift results. Besides Embraer agreeing to sell up to $1.4 billion worth of regional jets to China, the FT’s beyondbrics reports that China has approved 25 new chicken processing plants and 5 new beef refrigerators for export, which may mean that the total amount of chicken exported directly to China from Brazil will double in 2011.

With these ties increasing, Matías Spektor has argued in Americas Quarterly that Brazil must develop a sustainable and strategic policy to deal with an ever-looming China. His piece is worth reading in full, but the crux of Spektor’s argument goes:

Either Brazil develops the skills to influence the overall direction of China’s pull—securing some degree of choice—or it is overcome by the sweeping force of structural change. Here, is an opportunity for Brazil to learn to take advantage of the global power transition currently benefiting China; if not, its leaders will become hostage to the growing influence of vocal domestic fearmongers.

Easier said than done, he admits, citing an unequal power balance, clashing interests and diverging visions of global order as key roadblocks. All of these are worsened by the fact that academic and cultural ties between the two BRIC nations are few and far between, limiting how far Brazil can make sense of its new and increasingly significant partner.

Spektor’s argument is convincing: without a clear framework on Brazil’s part, China will continue its apparently limitless rise, while the Latin American giant will be left behind wondering how and where to make its next move.

“Brazilians worry about China with reason while China can afford by and large to simply ignore Brazil,” he writes. It would seem, then, that one of Dilma’s many challenges lies in redressing this imbalance.

With the rise of social media, the boundaries between professional reporters and citizen journalists have been blurred, York said. But the important aspect now is the possibility for cooperation and collaboration between reporters and amateur writers around the world.

“There is so much of the world to grasp, and I think that we can learn so much about it through its citizens and their use of social media,” she said. “There will always be language issues, there will always be translation issues, but I think that all of the technology is bringing the whole world a lot closer to us. It’s just our job to seek it out.”

Blogging/updates to begin in earnest shortly. Thanks for reading!