Indian flag
Photo by Naveed Ahmed on Unsplash

How India’s crackdown on NGOs is serving Hindu nationalism

by Lisa Kirchgatterer, MF Norwegian School of Theology, Religion and Society leading up to the MPhil.

Over the past decade, the Indian government has systematically cracked down on dissenting, secular, and minority non-governmental organizations (NGOs) by limiting their access to funding. Organizations have been forced to shut down or severely limit their advocacy and community work. The gap that these organizations leave behind in communities is filled with exclusivist volunteer groups, which promote the government’s Hindu-nationalist (Hindutva) ideology. It appears that the crackdown on organizations is not only aimed at silencing critics, but it is also polarizing communities.

Clear restriction patterns

In August 2012, there were 39.236 organizations in India that were permitted to receive foreign funding. By September 2023, that number had fallen to 16.473. Between 2014 and 2016 alone, around 20.000 NGOs lost their licenses. In most cases, this meant that licenses were either canceled, suspended, or not renewed by the government. Loss of access to foreign funding had consequences not only for the affected organizations, but also for the partner projects they were supporting around the country.

These restrictions on foreign-funded NGOs have of course not gone unnoticed. These developments have been reported on Indian news, organizations’ own websites, and occasionally in research articles covering India’s crackdown on critical voices and minority groups. The pattern of restrictions seems clear: openly dissenting organizations that often promote secularism, and organizations focusing on issues of religious minorities, caste, and gender are hit the most. By contrast, Hindu nationalist organizations close to the governing Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) are expanding and continue to receive foreign funding.

Drained and replaced

Two consequences of the government’s funding restrictions for NGOs have been understudied and largely unmentioned: first, their influence on NGOs’ fundraising efforts at home, and second, the consequences for the communities who benefited from these organizations’ services and advocacy efforts.

Representatives of Indian organizations who I talked to in late 2022 stated that the government-administered foreign funding cuts were perceived as a warning by local donors. This includes both individual donors and national donor agencies who wanted to avoid unwanted negative attention from the government for supporting targeted organizations. Consequently, they have been less likely to make donations. Affected organizations are then forced to either continue working with severely limited financial resources, shifting their focus away from what the government regards as controversial or “anti-national” issues, or close altogether.

Interestingly, restricted organizations often have direct connections and access to local communities, either through their own operations or via partner projects. In a recent open letter to the Indian government, the Constitutional Conduct Group, a non-partisan group of former civil servants committed to the Constitution of India, drew attention to the worrying gap that voluntary organizations leave once restrictions have forced them to halt their operations. It seems that the groups tied to the Hindu nationalist organization Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) are quick to fill these gaps. The RSS is India’s largest voluntary organization and is considered the “ideological root” of the BJP. Some scholars have described this shift as an orchestrated effort to replace critical organizations with an ‘ersatz’ civil society. This ersatz civil society echoes the government’s political agenda and operates on its terms, instead of challenging it and demanding dialogue and accountability. The organizational sector is therefore now experiencing an erosion similar to that seen in academia and the Indian media landscape over recent years.

Dividing communities ahead of elections

Previous research has identified the essential role played by voluntary organizations in the formation of attitudes and political opinions, and in (de)stabilizing communities. These functions were also stressed by the NGO workers I talked to. These organizations create meeting places, provide services like health care and education, and arrange community activities. Naturally, these kinds of programs and activities are shaped by the ideological framework of the responsible organization.

Since the BJP’s national electoral success in 2014, polarization and communal tensions have been rising. It is, therefore, concerning that organizations that aim for dialogue and advocate for a commitment to constitutional values are being drowned out and replaced by exclusivist Hindutva organizations in communities.

Even if this reduction in the presence and influence of pluralist and secular NGOs in communities is only one of many factors contributing to communal unrest, it is not to be brushed aside. Research has in fact shown that building tension in communities and keeping it simmering is one of the ways the RSS manages to recruit support for the BJP ahead of elections. In other words, stoking often violent and at times deadly conflict in communities, often between groups with different religious affiliations, is of political interest to the ruling party.

The next national elections are less than one year away. The political competition for the BJP is weak and the RSS has dwindling organizational competition in communities. Individuals and groups committed to ideas of secularism, non-discrimination, and increased inclusivity, have concerns about what this will mean for both community stability and the election result itself.

In my conversations with NGO representatives and activists, I repeatedly heard worries about India’s political and social future. Again and again, they expressed fears about the government undermining the Indian Constitution. This fear is not new. “Saving the Constitution” has become a core agenda of activists. But their shrinking financial resources and limited community presence to advocate for constitutional values and against the Hindutva vision of India, paired with personal threats against activists, has limited their ability to effectively challenge Hindu nationalism.

NGOs request international solidarity

When I asked these NGO workers about what would help organizations and activists in the current political climate, they all gave the same answer: more attention and pressure from the international community.

They were of course neither the first nor the only ones demanding greater international attention, including from political and corporate actors. There have been plenty of such demands in previous years. But while India is polishing its image as a strong global player, these demands remain unheeded. How many more NGOs, activists, and minority groups need to be forced into silence and inaction before the international community will speak up?

Lisa Kirchgatterer graduated from the master’s program “Religion in Contemporary Society” at MF Norwegian School of Theology, Religion and Society with a thesis titled “An Undeclared Emergency: How the Crackdown on Civil Society Abets the Realization of a Hindu Rashtra in Contemporary India” in May 2023. The project was partly funded by the Norwegian foundation Fritt Ord.

China Innovation flag
Image: Shutterstock

Creativity vs control: tensions in Chinese educational policy

By Naja Morell Hjortshøj, PhD fellow, Aarhus University, Institute of Culture and Society

For the past decade, the Chinese state has promoted the development of “mass entrepreneurship” by requiring all higher education institutions offer courses in innovation and entrepreneurship. But innovation and entrepreneurship requires creativity, critical thinking, and independence, characteristics seemingly at odds with government efforts to promote loyalty to the party-state.

How is this tension resolved in practice? How does the party-state reconcile these competing goals? What are the consequences for students who want to pursue careers as entrepreneurs? I conducted one year of ethnographic fieldwork in Chinese universities to explore these questions.

Former Chinese Premier Li Keqiang launched the government’s “mass entrepreneurship and mass innovation” (dazhong chuangye wanzhong chuangxin大众创业 万众创新) campaign with a speech at the World Economic Forum in September 2014. Li Keqiang called for the liberation of creativity in society and said everyone should be able to engage in entrepreneurship. The campaign was soon promoted widely, and in 2016, it became mandatory for all Chinese higher education institutions to offer courses in innovation and entrepreneurship. Central government documents state that the purpose of these courses is to develop students’ ability to think creatively, critically, and independently.

At the same time, Chinese President Xi Jinping expressed a desire to establish a “modern world-class education system with Chinese characteristics”. This vision entailed that all Chinese university students must develop the “correct” moral and political values, meaning they must learn the value of serving their country, while becoming sincere, hard-working, and diligent.

In the Chinese university where I conducted my research, entrepreneurship and innovation courses were often taught as guest lectures from “successful” individuals. The guest speakers were entrepreneurs, investors, and businesspeople, presented as role models of how to practice innovation and entrepreneurship in the real world. Usually, they were charismatic and self-confident people who urged the students to discover what they were genuinely passionate about in life. They also encouraged students to look inwards and to go through a process of self-exploration, for example by writing a diary or taking a gap year abroad.

In general, these “successful” individuals advised students not to listen to what their parents and peers thought they should do, but focus on their own interests. While the guest speakers encouraged students to pursue their inner passions, however, they also made it clear that they must comply with the “correct” values in life, including responsibility, diligence, and persistence.

For example, one guest speaker claimed that he had acquired the skills to become a successful investor by reading the same book 10 times in two weeks, and solving over a thousand business cases on his own. “When a person is able to study, they can overcome anything,” he said.  

The Chinese state used these guest speakers to show that there is no tension between acting as autonomous, self-driven, and entrepreneurial citizens on the one hand, and behaving morally “correctly” and serving the nation on the other.

If this is how the government attempts to overcome its seemingly contradictory goals, how is this tension perceived by students?

Even though the government aims to cultivate “mass entrepreneurship”, only 3.71% of Chinese students in higher education actually choose this career path. During my fieldwork, I interviewed nine students who came from all over China and had widely different family backgrounds. All wanted to pursue careers as entrepreneurs.

These students did not see any tension between showing loyalty to the party-state and being creative. In fact, similar to the guest speakers, they spoke about entrepreneurship as a way to pursue their own passions and engage in something they found truly meaningful. To this end, they were keen on exercising pressure on themselves to achieve success. Some of the students were fascinated by the guest speakers, whom they praised for their ability to practice self-discipline and contribute to societal development.

One of these students was Wang Yong, whose entrepreneurial dream was to establish a resort in a beautiful natural setting, where Chinese young people could spend time and receive psychological counselling. He developed this idea after one of his friends committed suicide due to depression and he wanted to help people in similar situations. Wang Yong explained that if he pursued a ‘normal’ career and worked for a regular company after finishing university, he would end up spending all his time stuck in an office, being forced to work from 9am to 9pm, 6 days a week – often also called ‘996’. This kind of work schedule, he said, would constrain his freedom and flexibility to explore his own entrepreneurial ideas.

In recent years, the ‘996’ work culture has been widely criticized on Chinese social media. In an environment where competition for positions is fierce, many young people feel that they are forced to deal with unfair work conditions to avoid being replaced by their peers. Generally, the students I met described entrepreneurship as an alternative to pursuing a ‘996’ work life. Even though they were not afraid of engaging in a competitive environment, they believed that working ‘996’ would make them subject to the control of their bosses. By contrast, they imagined that entrepreneurship would enable them to take control of their own time, providing a path to well-being and happiness.

The students often stated that their aim was to contribute productively to the nation, and some of them had won official entrepreneurship competitions for their products. They were therefore able to reconcile the competing goals of showing loyalty to the party-state and being innovative. At the same time, their motivations for choosing an entrepreneurial career path also differed from the state-propagated notion of entrepreneurship, since it reflected a critique of the job market and the consequences of there being too many graduates compared with number of jobs available.

Bangladesh flood
Photo by the author

The Final Straw: How a cyclone created a revolution in Bangladesh

by Muhammad Asiful Basar, Doctoral Candidate, Institute of Development Studies, University of Antwerp, Belgium and Senior Lecturer, Department of History and Philosophy, North South University, Bangladesh.

The birth of Bangladesh as an independent nation-state in 1971 was a remarkable moment in modern history. It was remarkable not only for its people’s lengthy fight for freedom but also because of the role of the Bhola cyclone, an unforeseen natural disaster that accelerated Bangladesh’s separation from the rest of Pakistan. Yet the cyclone – and how it affected local, regional and global politics – has only received limited attention by the historians.

What was the impact of the cyclone?

Following its establishment in 1947, Pakistan endured 23 years of unstable rule, with a one-party-dominated system and military interventions eradicating any semblance of democracy. The first period of martial law began in 1958, which saw General Muhammad Ayub Khan installed as chief martial law administrator and president. In the early 1960s, a movement for democratic restoration took shape, spearheaded primarily by the Bengalis of East Pakistan, who constituted 54% of the Pakistan population. Despite their significant contribution to the national economy, the Bengalis of East Pakistan were consistently marginalized by the ruling elite. This inequality led to demands for provincial autonomy, expressed in the “Six-point” movement, led by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the president of East Pakistan-based political party, Awami League.

In response to these growing calls for democracy and equality, the military government announced the date for the country’s first-ever national election. The election was scheduled for 7 December 1970, to be held simultaneously across all provinces. However, just three weeks before the election, at midnight on 12 November, a devastating cyclone with winds of up to 200 km/h struck the coast of East Pakistan. Accompanied by 10-meter waves, the cyclone wreaked havoc, causing immense loss of life and property for millions of people. The people of East Pakistan received limited warning about the cyclone, as the early warning system failed to function properly. The media and government officials were preoccupied with the election and gave scant attention to the impending disaster. Despite the fact that the East Pakistan government was informed by the Indian Meteorological Department about the cyclone’s imminent arrival at the coast, this warning was issued at least three days prior.

The cyclone and electoral politics:

The aftermath of the cyclone proved to be even more devastating than the cyclone itself. It took nearly 10 days for the government to declare a state of emergency and deploy the military to assist in relief and rehabilitation efforts. This delayed response deeply affected the views of Bengalis and ignited their nationalistic aspirations during this final phase of election campaign. The second military president, Yahya Khan, who had replaced Ayub Khan in 1969, faced severe criticism for his mishandling of the disaster, with many considering his indifference to be criminal negligence.

Maulana Abdul Hamid Bhashani, leader of the left-wing National Awami Party (NAP), joined the chorus of critics condemning the government’s response to the cyclone. He accused the Pakistani government of displaying a complete lack of concern and indifference toward the victims. On 23 November 1970, he took the bold step of declaring East Pakistan’s independence and called for a boycott of the upcoming elections. Following his lead, two other leftist parties also decided to boycott the election.

In this crucial period, East Pakistani politicians, particularly Awami League leader Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, seized the moment as an opportunity to rally Bengali unity against the West Pakistani elites. Sheikh Mujib highlighted the central government’s inadequate response to the catastrophe and emphasized the need for increased autonomy to better protect the people of East Pakistan from future natural disasters. Employing tactics such as public gatherings, marches, and posters, Mujib drew attention to the disparities between East and West Pakistan and repeated the demands for greater autonomy. One influential poster with the caption, “Why is Golden Bengal a Crematorium?” became a symbol of his campaign.

The electoral outcome and the mess afterwards:

Political observers expected the Awami League to emerge as the leading political party in East Pakistan, but very few predicted them to win 160 out of 162 seats in the election. The election outcome came as a shock, not only to the political parties but also to the Pakistani military. The military had greatly underestimated the influence of Mujib’s Awami League in East Pakistan. Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, president of the second-largest party, the Pakistan People’s Party, swiftly rejected the election result and called for fresh elections. The central government also refused to acknowledge the Awami League’s mandate, while the military dismissed Mujib as an Indian agent. Despite the Awami League’s unexpected victory, which granted Mujib and his party an absolute majority and the legitimacy to form government at the center, power was not handed over.

Instead, on March 25, 1971, the military initiated a brutal military operation known as Operation Searchlight. This event sparked a civil war that lasted for nine months and devastated the country again. In late 1971, India intervened in the conflict, resulting the birth of another Indo-Pak war that lasted a mere 13 days. As a consequence of this conflict, the Pakistani authority ultimately surrendered, leading to the establishment of Bangladesh

In summary, the Bhola cyclone of 1970 not only caused immense devastation but also had far-reaching political consequences. The disaster shaped the electoral landscape in East Pakistan, leading to a call for a boycott of the elections by the head of the NAP, which resulted in the Awami League gaining a significant majority. The military’s refusal to transfer power to Sheikh Mujibur Rahman ultimately sparked the civil war that led to Bangladeshi Independence. Despite the historical significance of these events, they have largely been overlooked in global historical accounts. The Bhola cyclone and its aftermath serve as a reminder of the complex interplay between natural disasters and politics and the enduring legacy of such events.

………….

This post is based on a longer article examining the role of the cyclone in the independence of Bangladesh, recently published in Contemporary South Asia. The article is available Open Access via the following link https://doi.org/10.1080/09584935.2023.2203901

Author: Muhammad Asiful Basar, Doctoral Candidate, Institute of Development Studies, University of Antwerp, Belgium and Senior Lecturer, Department of History and Philosophy, North South University, Bangladesh. Email: [email protected]

Windpower stations Vietnam
Windpower stations Vietnam. Picture by the author.

How Just is the Just Energy Transition Partnership in Vietnam?

Julia Behrens,Post Doc Fellow, University of Bielefeld

In the middle of May, a sigh of relief went through the Vietnamese environmental civil society community. Nguy Thi Khanh announced on her Facebook page that she was home with family. Khanh, one of the best-known advocates for renewable energy in Vietnam, had been arrested in the beginning of 2022 for tax evasion. Before that, she was the director of the local NGO GreenID, the first Vietnamese to win the Goldman Environmental prize and her input on the energy transition was valued inside and outside Vietnam. Her arrest was a surprise to civil society actors.

Vietnam is an authoritarian state under the rule of the Communist Party Vietnam (CPV). Benedict Kerkvliet has coined the term “repressive-responsive” system to describe the state’s power architecture. There is room to navigate and protest, but only within certain red lines. Critique cannot become systemic, threaten economic interests or attack individuals in powerful positions. On a local level, however, small-scale protests have been successful in the past.

The environmental community, including Khanh herself, was convinced that Khanh was working within the red lines (personal communication with experts and NGO representatives 2022). No one knows what was the actual trigger for her arrest, but speculations are that she became too influential for some decision-makers. As a consequence of her imprisonment and alongside new decrees that made it harder for NGOs to get permits for project implementation in Vietnam, NGOs started to lay low. Workshops were moved from public to closed settings, publications got put on hold, activities were not started in the first place.

Into this setting came the announcement of the Just Energy Transition Partnership (JETP) with Vietnam. The JETP is a mechanism by the G7 countries and the EU, together called the International Partnership Group (IPG), to implement their (financial) commitments for climate mitigation in the Global South and exhilarate the energy transition in so-called developing countries. South Africa and Indonesia’s JETPs were announced as the first two, making Vietnam the third JETP in December 2022 with a total financial volume of 15.5 billion USD in grants, loans and projected investments.

The IPG emphasizes the J in JETP on purpose. Behind that are important considerations and the success of social movements: workers movements have, originating from the US, advocated for making the economic transition towards a carbon-free economy a just one. Climate action is supposed to be understood as a social task, too. The closing down of coal mining and the introduction of solar power, for example, demands re-skilling, early retirement schemes, participation of the work force and trade union in the transition process. The International Labor Organization (ILO) has published guidelines on Just Transition that are an important reference for the JETPs.

The justice aspect has since been broadened by other civil society actors and incorporates other marginalized groups and intersectional discrimination. On a global scale, it means justice between the Global South and North and the demand by governments and groups from the South towards the JETP that the financial support should be in forms of grants not loans. It also means including all affected groups in the transition: local communities, all gender groups, informal workers, disabled people, etc. Within the framework of South Africa and Indonesia, the JETP negotiations foresee a meaningful involvement of civil society groups throughout the process of negotiating and implementing the framework (personal communication with NGOs in South Africa and Indonesia 2022).

While there have been shortcomings in those country partnerships already, the case of Vietnam is even more difficult due to the political context already described. For the Vietnamese side, “just” means support from industrial countries in the fight of the climate crisis due to their historic responsibility. It also means keeping the price of electricity at an accessible level for all groups in society and providing enough electricity to prevent power cuts.  Additionally, in the JETP agreement between IPG and Vietnam, workers are a focus in reference to the ILO Just Transition guidelines. Re-skilling programs among others are supposed to be part of the JETP financing mechanism. The Vietnamese government welcomes this support and will implement it in cooperation with the trade unions.

The IPG tried to push the justice aspect further by including the necessary participation of NGOs and media in the agreement, as well. As a result, one sentence was included that puts down the participation in writing. However, after the release of the JETP agreement, only very few media and NGOs dared to report on it due to the political climate (personal communication with NGOs 2023). The energy question is systemic. Not only is it a question of national importance and coordination, but vested economic interests are involved, too. Coal-producing provinces are not the ones with a high potential for renewable energy, causing worries to provincial governments who rely on coal. Additionally, two-thirds of coal-fired power plants are state-owned, while state-owned enterprises only make up four per cent of solar power and one per cent of installed wind power capacities as of 2021. Khanh’s arrest is likely proof that energy matters fall under the “repressive”, not “responsive” side of the Vietnamese state.

Nguy Thi Khanh was released five months early from her prison sentence. Could this be a sign that the Vietnamese government is making a step towards the “just” understanding of the IPG and JETP? Hardly. Only two weeks after Khanh’s early release, another star of the Vietnamese environmental civil society scene has been arrested: Hoang Thi Minh Hong, previous head of the Vietnamese NGO CHANGE and Obama fellow in 2018, on the same charges as Khanh. There is no sign that the political climate will change. The IPG needs to be aware of the limitations of the JETP and possible consequences for agreements in other countries: a watered down “just” part could return the partnership to a technical undertaking and diminish the discourse around Just Transition.

Kachin Sunflower
Kachin Sunflower. Picture by the author

Validating Kachinland’s Independent Colleges- Between market and ethnic communities 

By Bill Hannah

While the military coup of 2021 has been the catalyst for a revolutionary uprising in Myanmar’s heartlands, for many of those in the country’s ethnic areas, it was merely an extension of the brutality and authoritarianism they had known for years. The 2010s had been characterised by some observers as a democratic interlude, yet the Tatmadaw, Myanmar’s military, still operated with impunity, particularly in ethnic minority areas.  In the northern Kachinland region, the ceasefire between the Kachin Independence Army and the Tatmadaw broke down in 2011, and while the economic hubs of Yangon and Mandalay played host to foreign investment and unprecedented overtures of soft power, almost 100,000 people in the Kachinland region were displaced due to fighting[i]. Simultaneously, extractive industries in jade, rare earth, and bananas ramped up their resource heavy operations under the auspices of the state, leading to environmental, land, and labour outrages.[ii] For many in Kachinland, it appeared as though the nominal civilian government were indifferent to their suffering.[iii]

Education has long been an area of friction between the state and the Kachin people. Schools have become a site for ‘Burmanization’, the cultural imposition of the dominant Bamar ethnic group onto the country’s minorities in terms of language, cultures and historical narratives[iv][v]. In common with other ethnic minority organisations with high degrees of autonomy, the political wing of the Kachin Independence Army (KIA), the Kachin Independence Organisation (KIO) has been running its own secondary schools outside of state control[vi][vii].  However, the central government has still been able to exert its own governance as pupils matriculate and move on to university education. For many years during the ceasefire period prior to 2011, the KIO had adapted its curriculum so students could take the central exams and thus move on to State universities. Following the resumption of hot war, the KIO forged a more independent path, with more Kachin-focused curriculum as well as building its own tertiary institution, Mai Ja Yang College. Simultaneously, non-profit and independent tertiary colleges, aligned neither to the State nor the KIO, also sprung up within the region, often connected with civil society organisations.

In my fieldwork in the region, I’ve worked with and studied these independent colleges and looked at the strategies they employ for sustainability. While they generally charge fees for tuition, they also function as non-profits, putting a social mission to educate at the forefront of their operations. One key mission common to many is the aspiration to have courses and programs at a higher pedagogical and curricular quality than state universities. Myanmar’s state education has faced much criticism when it comes to its rote learning methods[viii] and so alternative colleges have used “critical thinking” as a watchword for their alternative pedagogies which aim to get students questioning and engaging more in their own learning. Avoiding Burmanisation as much as possible, some independent colleges in Kachinland favour English as their common classroom language while also making time in the curriculum to explore local Kachin cultures and languages.

However, the schools also realise that if they are to be sustainable, it is not just the content of the curriculum. At a more strategic level, then there is a need to address the socially recognised value of the school to the community. For students the decision to study somewhere comes not only from the value of knowledge but the value of the school certificate.

This dual value of education relates to the human capital and credentialist schools of thought. Theories of human capital posit that education provides students with skills and knowledge that makes them more valuable in society.[ix] Prospective employers recognise this and thus offer students who have more years of education more money. Credentialism, however, argues that what is important to graduates and employers is the credential, i.e. the status of being a graduate. In terms of social dynamics in labour markets it is this credential that gives additional rights to individuals as opposed to what they have learned in classrooms. Schools do not just process students, but are institutions that have social power to confer social status.[x][xi] 

The distinction between education as a value and education as a signifier has been embodied in a number of students in Kachinland who have enrolled simultaneously at the state university and at an independent college. The justification was that the college would provide them valued knowledge and skills, while the state would give them credentials for the labour market. In other words, they knew that graduating from a state university would allow them to apply for a wider range of jobs, but they still wanted the meaningful education that the independent colleges provided. Interestingly however, since the coup, the social value of state higher education has gone down amidst general calls to boycott state institutions.

Both theories of human capital and credentialism have their strengths and weaknesses. Human capital can help us to see the value of education as a resource to societies. On the other hand, it can lead to a somewhat mechanical view of knowledge, seeing education as a process of transferring discrete chunks of information rather than learning as an individual’s evolving relationship to the world. Human capital, by commodifying education’s value, can also be the framework in which higher education is denied to some on grounds of economic viability. Credentialism allows us to see the way that education functions as a status signifier within societies and the ways in which central power can govern at a distance (e.g., the way the central Myanmar state was at one time able to direct the curricula content of KIO schools). However, credentialism risks treating education as hollow, with the act of teaching reduced to mere ritual.

Both human capital and credentialist lens are useful for looking at the strategies of independent colleges in Kachinland and how they are sustaining themselves through both higher quality teaching and an evolving process of recognition within the community, especially among local employers. Yet these two lenses both have a blindspot to the ways in which labour markets are not static entities that education simply supplies. Land grabs and rural dispossession in Myanmar has created a large labour force with little hope of absorption into urban wage labour. It is thus unsurprising that entrepreneurialism has become a popular subject in independent colleges as graduates seek to make their own way in the market. This does not necessarily mean that humanities and the arts are no longer useful. Subjects such as social studies, skills such as critical thinking, and extended research in local communities remain vital not only in terms of building up human capital, but in building the critical thinking skills so that graduates may become leaders in exploring alternatives to current economic governance and creating new paths of resilience for livelihoods both in and outside the market.


[i]OSHA (2021) IDP Sites in Kachin State. Available from https://reliefweb.int/map/myanmar/myanmar-idp-sites-kachin-state-31-march-2021

[ii]Tsa Ji (2012) Lessons from the Kachin “Development” Experience. Online Kachin Development Networking Group (KDNG).

[iii]Pangmu Shayi (2012) Silence is not all that Golden. Kachinland News. September 18th. Available from https://www.kachinlandnews.com/?p=22292

[iv]Houtman, G. (1999) Mental culture in Burmese Crisis Politics. Institute for the Study of Languages and Cultures of Asia and Africa. Tokyo. Tokyo University of Foreign Studies.                

[v]Lwin, T (2011) Languages, Identities, and Education – in Relation to Burma/Myanmar. Thinking Classroom

[vi]South, A and Lall, M (2016) Schooling and Conflict: Ethnic Education and Mother Tongue-based Teaching in Myanmar. Online. Asia Foundation.

[vii]Lwin, T (2019) Global justice, national education and local realities in Myanmar: a civil society perspective. Asia Pacific Education Review. p.273-284.

[viii] Fishbein, E., Nu Nu Lusan. (2021) Military coup kills higher education dreams in Myanmar. Al Jazeera. https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2021/11/3/military-coup-kills-higher-education-dreams-in-myanmar

[ix]Becker, G. (1993) Human Capital. Third Edition. Chicago. University of Chicago Press.

[x]Meyer, J.W. (1977) The Effects of Education as an Institution. American Journal of Sociology. Vol. 83 (1). p.55-77.

[xi]Collins, R. (2019) The Credential Society. An Historical Sociology of Education and Stratification. Legacy Edition. New York. Columbia University Press.

President Trump at the Akasaka Palace
President Trump at the Akasaka Palace

Japan’s Abduction Issue: Why Japan-North Korea Relations Remain at a Standstill

By Kate Allanson Conlon,PhD Candidate at the University of Central Lancashire and Associate Researcher at the Northern England Policy Centre for the Asia Pacific (NEPCAP)

Prior to 2002, the idea that Japanese nationals were once abducted and transported back to North Korea was labelled as a conspiracy theory by the Kim regime. This was until the Japan-North Korea summit meeting held in Pyongyang on September 17, 2002. The Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi had hoped for three outcomes: for North Korea to agree they will no longer seek compensation and reparations, but rather economic cooperation; for North Korea to pledge to maintain international agreements on its nuclear programme and the moratorium on its missile testing programme; and finally, for North Korea to acknowledge the 1970s and 1980s abductions of Japanese nationals (Hughes, 2002, p.61). Few people expected North Korea to formally acknowledge their crimes, making the events of the summit and of the months to follow even more astounding.

‘An Appalling Incident’

Despite previous efforts to debunk rumours of North Korean involvement in the abduction of Japanese nationals, Kim Jong Il chose to instead admit North Korean involvement in the abductions. During the Japan-North Korea summit meeting, Kim condemned the abductions as ‘an appalling incident … initiated by special-mission organisations in the 1970s and 80s, driven by blindly motivated patriotism and misguided heroism’ (Boynton, 2015). It seems the North Korean government felt this explanation would suit both parties. For the Japanese, they would finally have an answer to the ‘abduction issue’, with the families of the victims either reunited with their loved one or in receipt of closure knowing they are no longer alive. For the North Koreans, they are able to resolve the issue under the pretence that it was individuals working independently from the Kim regime who committed these crimes, meaning the regime is not at fault and the normalisation of Japan-North Korea relations can continue. Koizumi had hoped to return to Japan triumphantly, having finally extracted an admission of guilt from the North Korean leader and taken a step towards the normalisation of bilateral relations. However, in reality, media and public outrage over the admission had only made the possibility of normalised relations more unlikely. North Korea admitted to the abduction of 13 Japanese nationals, eight of whom were dead with the remaining five alive and living in North Korea. Those living were Yasushi Chimura and Fukie Hamamoto who disappeared in July 1978, Kaoru Hasuike and Yukiko Okudo who also disappeared in July 1978, and Hitomi Soga who disappeared along with her mother in August 1978. Koizumi’s mission was now to facilitate the repatriation of these abductees. 

On October 15, 2002, North Korea allowed the five abductees to return home to Japan, where they were reunited with family members who they had not seen for decades. All five abductees chose to remain in Japan with the government of Japan urging North Korea to also ensure the safe return of their families who still resided in North Korea, these family members included spouses and children. By July 18, 2004, North Korea had returned the three children of the Chimura family, two children of the Hasuike family and the husband and two children of Hitomi Soga. Following their admission of guilt and repatriation of five abductees, North Korea now considered the issue closed. What was intended to be a gesture of honesty and good will by the North Korean government completely backfired, leading only to further hostilities between the two nations. By October 2003, opinion polls communicated that concerns over the abduction issue among the Japanese had increased to 90.1 percent, while concerns about the North Korean nuclear programme had also increased to 66.3 percent (DiFilippo, 2013, p.143). In addition, the ascension of Prime Minister Shinzo Abe to power only fuelled Japanese resentment over the abduction issue, with Abe vowing to make the abduction issue his life’s work (Siripala, 2022).

Is There a Way Forward?

Over two decades on from the events of 2002, for the Japanese the issue remains unsolved with many questions still unanswered. Despite North Korea declaring their commitment to resuming investigations into the abductions at the second Japan-North Korea summit meeting in 2004, Japan feels Pyongyang is yet to provide acceptable explanations for the remaining abductees. Declaring that ‘the abduction of Japanese citizens is a critical issue concerning the sovereignty of Japan and the lives and safety of Japanese citizens’ and that ‘without the resolution of this issue, there can be no normalization of relations between Japan and North Korea’ (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan, 2022). While current Prime Minister Fumio Kishida has vowed he is willing to meet with North Korean leader Kim Jong Un to resolve the issue, there has been no progress (Yamaguchi, 2022). Calls for answers over the issue have only intensified in recent years, as parents and family members of the abductees reach old age with the fear they will never truly know what happened to their loved ones.

Japan has tried to incentivise North Korea into opening a formal investigation into the abductions by promising to ease sanctions. This approach proved successful with North Korea opening a formal investigation from 2014 to 2016. However, North Koreas continued nuclear testing meant Japan was forced to reverse its easing of sanction, effectively clearing the slate on all the previous progress made on the issue (Siripala, 2022). It seems a resolution to the abduction issue and the normalisation of relations with Japan is low on the North Korean agenda. This may be as a result of their stance that the issue was resolved following their admission of guilt and repatriation of five abductees in October 2002. Until both countries either agree that more investigation is needed surrounding the abduction issue or that the abduction issue is resolved, it is unlikely that the proper normalisation of Japan-North Korea relations can occur. However, with the abductions still in living memory and the continued campaigning led by the parents and family members of abductees, it seems unlikely the Japanese government could agree the issue is resolved without significant public outcry.

Boynton, R. S. (2015) North Korea’s Abduction Project. The New Yorker. 21 December 2015. Available at: https://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/north-koreas-abduction-project (Accessed 27 March 2023).

DiFilippo, A. (2013). Still at Odds: The Japanese Abduction Issue and North Korea’s Circumvention. UNISCI discussion papers. no. 32.

Hughes, C. W. (2002) Japan-North Korea Relations from the North-South Summit to the Koizumi-Kim Summit. Asia-Pacific Review. 9 (2), pp.61–78.

Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan (2022) Abductions of Japanese Citizens by North Korea. Available at https://www.mofa.go.jp/region/asia-paci/n_korea/abduction/index.html (Accessed 27 March 2023).

Siripala, T. (2022) Abe Shinzo and the North Korean Abduction Issue. The Diplomat. 28 September 2022. Available at: https://thediplomat.com/2022/09/abe-shinzo-and-the-north-korean-abduction-issue/ (Accessed 28 March 2023).

Yamaguchi, M. (2022) EXPLAINER: Why Were Japanese Abducted by North Korea?. AP News. 24 May 2022. Available at: https://apnews.com/article/biden-japan-north-korea-government-and-politics-094e087cadbd6fd571f59c1c4bc102e0 (Accessed 28 March 2023).

Covid19 China
Photo by Jida Li on Unsplash

Globalism or Nationalism? Chinese Public Discourse on COVID-19 Vaccines

By Dechun Zhang, PhD candidate at Leiden University in Netherlands, and guest PhD at NIAS.

On 11 March 2020, COVID-19 was officially declared a global pandemic by the World Health Organization. Subsequently, the pandemic impacted the lives of millions of people. It is widely accepted that the development of COVID-19 vaccines would be a significant step in controlling the pandemic. Many countries then have weaponised vaccines in an attempt to further national interests. For instance, in the People’s Republic of China (PRC), the Communist Party of China (CPC) announced that all Chinese citizens were to receive the vaccination free of charge. However, the Chinese public only has access to Chinese vaccine brands. Moreover, after China officially joined COVAX on October 9, 2020, although it refuses western media labelling of its foreign assistance with COVID-19 vaccines to developing country as “vaccine diplomacy”, China indeed offered loans and priority access to developing countries for vaccinations. Hence, some scholars observed the emergence of vaccine nationalism, a term that denotes competition among superpowers to be the first to launch an effective vaccine on the market, accompanied by the prioritisation of domestic use. However, most of the discussion on vaccine nationalism has been framed from a western perspective. As the COVID-19 vaccines also have triggered heated discussions on social media in the PRC, I conducted an online observation from 9 October 2020 to 9 February 2021 on Sina Weibo to collect data on discussions about COVID-19 vaccines.

COVID-19, nationalism, and vaccines

Chinese nationalistic expressions usually feature both top-down and bottom-up types of expression. In other words, China’s nationalism is not only framed by the Chinese political elites but also demonstrates grassroot features. The online nationalism discourse is indicative of hostile sentiments towards external provocations that are characteristized as confrontational and xenophobic, while demonstrating positive perceptions of the CPC. Hence, it is widely accepted that the nationlists in China are ‘blind’ followers of the CPC. However, Chinese popular nationalism also demonstrates certain autonomy from the official discourse, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic. While the Chinese government’s narrative highlights the role of the CPC to assist the world and to defend China against the western democracies’ criticisms, Chinese netizens actively express a range of opinions online regarding the COVID-19 vaccines.

Globalism or Nationalism?

The Chinese public indicate their adherence to the official doctrine through their positive attitudes towards China and their negative attitudes towards the West. Popular phrases and terms used on public posts related to the Chinese COVID-19 vaccines include responsible, putting people first, properly arranged, greatest happiness, best gift, great motherland, adorable persons, safeguarding us, salute, proud and happy, Long live our motherland, and most reliable. However, the Chinese public also demonstrated other self-contradictory attitudes regarding the use of COVID-19 vaccines.

First, the Chinese public are proud of the speed of vaccine development. The ‘China speed’ was mentioned in many posts to demonstrate their pride that China can invent vaccines so fast. However, when discussing the speed of western vaccine development, the Chinese public borrow from the CPC’s narrative in respect of the alleged side effects of western vaccines, thereby maintaining existing arguments about the irresponsibility of the American government. Then “speed” becomes a negative trait.

Moreover, nationalists indicate the belief that the American government invents vaccines so fast only in order to secure a geopolitical win, with only perfunctory consideration for the wellbeing of the public. Unlike Western countries, China did not rush to develop vaccines because the Chinese government decided to develop the most reliable vaccines for the Chinese people. Therefore, the Chinese public celebrated online that China was not the first country to invent a vaccine and that China chose not to replicate the actions of Western countries that rushed out their vaccines in response to geopolitical rivalry. In contrast, China’s approach to vaccine development is to be interpreted as indicative of the fact that CPC cares about people’s lives.

Moreover, although the Chinese government denied using the vaccine issue to engage in vaccine diplomacy, the Chinese public celebrated the fact that China could overtake the United States to gain world-leading geopolitical power. The Chinese public celebrated online that the Chinese government was able to assist the world. Their narrative focused on the gratitude for Chinese COVID-19 vaccines expressed by those that had received Chinese assisted vaccines. Hence, while the Chinese public welcome the opportunity to assist the world, their willingness is based on the condition that countries who receive assistance must admit the leading role played by China. Yet, the Chinese public defamed Western countries as selfish because they used vaccines in a self-interested fashion. In other words, Chinese popular nationalism encompasses a belief of a Western-dominated world order where China’s globalism would further its national interests.

Overall, the pandemic offered Chinese people the chance to change the nationalist narrative, both domestically and globally. Chinese popular nationalism displays demonstrable traits of anti-Western sentiments and pro-China features. Hence, in China, the vaccine came to signify a set of beliefs that reinforced nationalism. Nevertheless, vaccine nationalism in the context of Chinese society also exhibits an appreciation of globalism, albeit combined with self-interest and the need for a geopolitical win.

Bio

Dechun Zhang is a PhD candidate at Leiden University in Netherlands, and the guest PhD at NIAS in Denmark. His research interests are political communication, media and politics and digital nationalism with a focus on China. His PhD project, “Rethinking China’s Digital Nationalism in the wake of COVID-19 Pandemic”, aims to investigate how COVID-19 has reshaped and influenced China’s digital nationalism.

Time is money plackard
Photo by Olivia Yijian Liu

Life as “humineral”? What is behind China’s high-tech boom?

by Olivia Yijian Liu, doctoral research fellow at the University of Oslo.

In early 2023, the term “human mine” or “huminerals” (renkuang 人矿) has sparked a widespread discussion on the Chinese Internet (China Digital Times, 2023). The term first appeared in 1984 in the People’s Daily to describe Chinese workers as a kind of material resource for economic development. Forty years later, young talents in the high-tech industry have used the term to criticise how their lives are used as “consumables” and exploited continuously. What is the underlying logic behind the sudden popularity of the term? How do young talents in urban China experience their work and life?

The rapid expansion of China’s high-tech industry has attracted young talent from the best universities of the country and overseas. They seek a decent income, self-improvement, and generally consider overwork and chronic stress to be acceptable.

The concept of “humineral” is closely tied to the notion of the “striving individual” of China (Yan, 2013). A common urge to succeed and the accompanying anxiety push many Chinese individuals to strive at work (ibid., p. 272). Many work, on and off, roughly 72 hours per week. This is known as 9-9-6, i.e. working from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., 6 days per week. Some even work roughly 84 hours per week, known as 0-0-7, i.e. working from midday to midnight, 7 days per week. Basically, working on Saturdays and Sundays is widely accepted as the norm. Common words that were used to describe the abnormal working schedules are “big-week and small-week” (daxiaozhou 大小周), i.e. one week of six workdays, followed by one week of five workdays, “single rest-day” (danxiu 单休), i.e. one week of six workdays, and 5.5 workdays.

The premise of this overwork culture is the unwritten rule that prevails at many high-tech companies, which pride themselves on having a young average employee age. As an ethnographer researching the field of entrepreneurship in China, I joined the training and orientation sessions dedicated to interns and entry-level positions in a high-tech start-up based in Shenzhen in July 2020. I was sitting with around 20 other new staff members in a seminar room, and I was surprised to learn how young the newcomers were, ranging between 20 and 22 years old. At 25 years of age, I was the oldest intern in the room. After familiarising myself with the company, I noticed that peers in their late 20s often took on the role of managers and group leaders in charge of interns or a small team.

The term “35-year-old crisis” was frequently mentioned in the Chinese high-tech industry. This is often associated with the perception of employers that employees aged 35 years and above are “too old” and “cannot do it anymore,” and therefore need to “be optimised,” a euphemism for being laid off. In the tech industry, optimisation is often used to describe the process of improving a technology, a prototype, or a business model to make it more desirable and efficient. When applied to the strategic management of human resources of a tech company, the term implies that middle-aged employees are less desirable and in need of being replaced by more “cost-effective” graduates who can and will work harder for less pay. Many entrepreneurs openly admitted that they deliberately tried to recruit striving and young employees who let their private and working life overlap with no overtime payment.

Facing the risk of downsizing and age discrimination, many in Shenzhen who have the financial burden of raising a child or paying off a mortgage saw sacrifice with crazy working hours as necessary to become “less replaceable” in the high-tech labour market when they approach the age of 35 or older. I often heard striving talents take pride in how much they worked saying, “I worked until 4 a.m.” or “Work is all I do”. I simultaneously saw how much stress they had to bear.

In fact, many Chinese workers were aware that the humineral lifestyle was unsustainable and detrimental to their health. Young employees in their 20s shared that they found reading their yearly physical examination report scary because the majority had health problems. Moreover, the story of a 24-year-old Chinese high-tech giant employee who suddenly died at home after working overtime for several days in a row recently went viral on social media. Such tragic stories are nothing new. Just a few months ago, a young female employee of a high-tech firm (born in 1998), worked overtime until 1:30 a.m. and died suddenly on her way home.

During my fieldwork, I noted that some educated workers chose to escape their precarious work in the high-tech industry to embrace a different lifestyle. Their decision to return to their hometown from tier-one Chinese cities, which also means less income and lower social status, reflects individual choice in employment and lifestyle. Although many faced moral tension when making such a decision.

To this end, what seems to underpin China’s booming high-tech sectors in recent years are waves of young striving talents coming or returning to tier-one Chinese cities, and their temporary lifespan as huminerals for self-actualisation. Such striving practices allow for China’s rapid development but also lead to chronic stress, insecurity, and fragile well-being. The frequent critique mentioned by high-tech workers on the ground regarding human life as a humineral appears as a sign of the coming change of an unsustainable development model. If this happens it will significantly change China’s economic future.

References

China Digital Times (2023) Mingan ciku: Renkuang 敏感词库: 人矿 [Internet]. Available from https://chinadigitaltimes.net/chinese/691753.html [Accessed 09 January 2023].

Yan, Y. (2013) Aferword: The drive for Success and the Ethics of the Striving Individual. In: Stafford C., ed. Ordinary Ethics in China. London, Bloomsbury Academic, pp. 263–292.


Olivia Yijian Liu is a doctoral research fellow at the University of Oslo. Her PhD was a part of the Brokex project, funded by the European Research Council Starting Grant (grant agreement No 802070). She holds a MSc at the University of Oxford and a BA at the University of Pisa. Her research focuses on entrepreneurship and innovation in China. She has done 7 months of ethnographic fieldwork in South China’s tech industry, e.g., start-ups, makerspaces, and incubators in 2020 and 2021.

Indonesian Police personnel in Jakarta
Indonesian Police personnel in Jakarta. Picture by AWG97, Wikimedia

Could the Kanjuruhan stadium disaster spark Indonesian police reform?

David Aled Williams, Senior Researcher
Kari Telle, Senior Researcher
Chr. Michelsen Institute (CMI), Norway

The 1st of October disaster at the football stadium on Java, in which 135 people lost their lives, is the second-worst footballing tragedy in history. Might it spark Indonesian police reform?

The disaster was filmed and photographed from various perspectives, including by security cameras and mobile phones. After losing 3-2 to Persebaya Surabaya, supporters of the home side Arema FC took to the pitch and police attempted to regain order, with riot police deploying tear gas – banned under FIFA rules. This triggered a fatal stampede as people tried to escape. Many fans were crushed or asphyxiated in the process, including 40 children.

A Washington Post investigation indicates a heavy-handed police response and inadequate stadium measures. At least 40 rounds of munitions were fired at the crowd over a 10-minute period, including tear gas, flash bangs and flares. Fans ran to the exits, but some were closed. Many were trampled to death or crushed against walls and metal gates. Just days after the incident, Indonesia’s police chief, Listyo Sigit Prabowo, announced six main suspects: the director of PT Liga Indonesia Baru, the Arema FC head of security, the Arema match organizing committee, and three police officers.

The brutal images of riot police firing munitions into the tightly packed stands have placed Indonesia’s policing culture in the spotlight. The stadium disaster comes at a time when Indonesia is scheduled to host the FIFA U-20 World Cup in 2023. Indonesia is also one of three countries (plus Qatar and South Korea) bidding to stage next year’s AFC Asian Cup, a tournament involving 24 nations. Indonesian media were flush with relieved reports after President Widodo tweeted that FIFA had confirmed Indonesia would still host next year’s World Cup. Perhaps the fact that Indonesia is eager to host international sporting events will enable a long-overdue and comprehensive police reform in the wake of Kanjuruhan?

Indonesia certainly pins great hopes on its footballing future. Launching the official emblem of the FIFA U-20 World Cup on the country’s day of independence, the president of its footballing association, Mochamad Iriawan, said that “Indonesian football is ready to rise and look stunning on the world stage”.  This statement vividly illustrates that the hosting of sports events is tied to Indonesia’s nation-building project and a quest for international recognition. But, less than two weeks later, the Kanjuruhan disaster called this vision of the World Cup as a public relations bonanza into question.

  

Banner demanding a  ‘thorough investigation’ into the stadium disaster.  Malang, East Java, October 5.
Banner demanding a  ‘thorough investigation’ into the stadium disaster.  Malang, East Java, October 5.

The disaster clearly exposed the problematic policing culture in Southeast Asia’s most populous country. Comprehensive reforms have proved elusive and police brutality is a familiar reality to many Indonesians. Indeed, Kanjuruhan is far from the only recent example of heavy-handed policing, with 2019 identified as a turning point in the use of tear gas by police. In 2020, for example, a series of demonstrations protesting the so-called Omnibus Law saw accusations of excessive use of force by police. Then, the Indonesian Commission for Missing Persons and Victims of Violence received around 1500 complaints of police brutality, while the Alliance of Independent Journalists reported that seven journalists were attacked by police. After the more recent Kanjuruhan stadium disaster, banners and graffiti calling for a thorough investigation (usut tuntas) were put up across Malang and other cities. Similar calls have accompanied previous incidents involving accusations of excessive police force or misconduct, but only rarely have there been indictments or trials over the alleged use of excessive force by police.

Part of the challenge is that the Indonesian national police force (or Polri) is a powerful national institution: a largely self-governing body with little civilian oversight that benefits from a growing budget. In 2022, the total national police budget more than doubled since 2013. The ballooning police budget includes millions spent on tear gas, batons, and other riot gear. At the same time, the police have faced a string of scandals, including one of the worst cases of police corruption in recent Indonesian history. In this case, Nopryansyah Yosua Hutabarat, a 27-year-old bodyguard and driver of the Head of Internal Affairs for the Indonesian national police, Ferdy Sambo, was found dead at his boss’ home. Initially depicted as an accidental shooting, the death sparked widespread rumours of a police cover-up, and Sambo’s wife and three of their staff were eventually arrested for murder. Against this backdrop, the Indonesian police force has been described by experts as “broken” and “deeply politicized”, here.

 So far, the way the police have dealt with the footballing tragedy follows a familiar pattern. There is a tendency to blame “anarchic” football supporters for the deadly outcome. East Java’s Police Chief defended the use of tear gas as a necessary response to a riot in which the lives of security personnel were at risk. Indeed, two police officers tragically lost their lives. However, an investigation by Indonesia’s National Commission on Human Rights concluded that the tear gas caused panic that triggered the deadly stampede. Although the East Java Police Chief has been dismissed, senior officials have admitted only limited responsibility for the disaster. At a press conference at the Indonesian police headquarters on October 10th, a spokesperson claimed that tear gas was not deadly and that it merely caused temporary irritation to eyes, skin, and lungs, citing scientific studies to back up these claims. This response is, unfortunately, symptomatic of how the police have attempted to minimize responsibility for the disaster.

Kanjuruhan has, however, opened a debate on police violence and accountability in Indonesia. It has also brought the management of the Indonesian Football Association (PSSI) under scrutiny, particularly about safety. Given that the association’s president is a former high-ranking police officer, many observers have asked why Mochamad Iriawan failed to convey the FIFA ban on tear gas to police and personnel in charge of stadium security. At the same time, given the forces opposing police reform in Indonesia, it remains to be seen whether the renewed pressure for action in the wake of Kanjuruhan will be enough to spur lasting change.

Workshops outdoor Suzhou

Workshops outdoors: means of coping amidst COVID-19 online mode in Suzhou, China

by Ms Santa Stopniece, PhD of Intercultural Communication, Vice Dean of Foreign Affairs, Suzhou Polytechnic Institute of Agriculture (China)

Working as a lecturer and researcher in China, the COVID-19 pandemic has meant several periods of partial lockdown and lengthy online teaching periods since the beginning of 2020. At the moment, here in Suzhou we have been able to start the term as usual, however in some other cities in China, the beginning of study year is delayed or moved online. For more than three years, I have not been able to travel internationally, which has to do with the complex procedures of return to China involving quarantine as well as flight costs that presently are still very high. Reflecting on own experiences with COVID-19 situation in China, being outdoors in the nature daily in the yard or compound, and weekly at Tai lake or surrounding parks has been very helpful in coping with the online mode and limitations on gathering. When starting to work for Suzhou Polytechnic Institute of Agriculture, I learned about their outdoors workshops and a defining moment when students were especially appreciative of chance to get together and be out in the nature after 2020 lockdown.  An idea for research article was born, realizing that outdoors workshops in small groups could be more widely used not only for COVID-19 coping, but also for online degrees and online work balance in general.  

Amidst global pandemic of COVID-19, online learning and teaching, video conferencing and online meetings are oftentimes treated as the new normal. Students, tutors, employees and supervisors are expected to accept it and perform as effectively as under face to face situation. However, online mode sustained over periods of longer time, e.g. several months, often results in decreased motivation, lesser ability to concentrate, and general fatigue. While exercise programs and other coping methods indoors are being suggested, there is still limited information available on best strategies to alleviate online learning challenges. Learning outdoors, when possible and relevant, would offer more comprehensive experience of inquiry and healing effects of nature that offers deep replenishment. While outdoors workshop method may not be possible to use under complete lockdown measures, in many circumstances, it is still allowed to meet outdoors and in small groups. These opportunities could to be more actively explored and incorporated into learning and work schedule.

Showcasing the experience of Suzhou Polytechnic institute of Agriculture (China), I looked into the experience of outdoors workshops for replenishment amidst lengthy online learning periods. Method of the study was content analysis of reports on outdoor workshops and activities organized as well as interviews with tutors who organized them. Results of the study indicated that different experiences provide renewal of motivation and joy of getting together. The opportunities were sought to offer students with the varying experiences during COVID-19 limitations and online learning, as the following excerpt from the report of foreign affairs office (Suzhou Polytechnic Institute of Agriculture, 18.05.2020.) illustrates:

On May 15, class teacher took the eight international students outdoors for practical teaching in Xiangcheng campus to ease their mental stress. Activity took place with the approval of the COVID-19 Epidemic Control Office of the institute and enthusiastic support and participation by the management. The functional zone of the Sci-Tech Park in the Xiangcheng Campus was explained in detail, and during their tour, the international students had a chance to try the characteristic fruit of Suzhou, loquat. Also, they independently finished replacement of flower pots and cutting propagation of crab cactus and wandering jew plant as a part of their practical training.

Referring to the personal communication with junior tutor at Suzhou Polytechnic Institute of Agriculture on 14.06.2022., learning by doing is very important and facilitates the involvement, strengthening interactions between teachers and students:

Due to lack of sufficient interactions between teachers and students during online learning, both teachers and students are tired of dealing with it for a lengthy time. If it is possible to be outside and practice in the nature, it will definitely help students get involved and master all the skills taught by teachers in a vivid way. While learning outdoors, it will enhance their enthusiasm and interest about the class. When they just read or listen to the teachers online, they can’t create the knowledge by themselves, involving tactile and sensory experience. So I maintain that outdoors workshops are essential.

It is a chance to create milestone memories of achievement together, and the willingness, collaboration and participation of students are good in this setting, as indicates personal communication with institute’s senior tutor on 14.04.2022.:

Last semester, I taught Chinese students a course on culture, and there was one afternoon when I took them to an ancient street that has a lot of history, so it was a long walk about 3.5 km all the way down. It was the beginning of semester, and I felt so close to my students, and they also felt close to me, and everybody enjoyed it. So this was the first time after the pandemic that the students were meeting outdoors. They were very happy, and I was very happy too.

Study results also outlined important aspects to note or possible challenges while organizing workshops outdoors. Task, completion time, and goal needs to be set, and it works better with small groups to keep students focused.  Team work is preferable to get everyone involved and to facilitate mutual co-operation. It can involve additional costs, organization, staff and supporting tutors to make outdoors workshop a success. 

To conclude, I propose outdoors workshop method as an approach of maintaining motivation amidst online learning, for getting together and experiencing the restorative effect of being in the nature. This can be relevant and creatively applied in a variety of settings, learning situations, and disciplines. The paper in progress was presented in a number of international conferences online held in Turkey, Azerbaijan, and India on the topics of education, youth, pandemic, and social sciences, and suitable publication opportunities are sought for the completed full paper at the moment.

Outdoors cultural activity in traditional Suzhou gardens with international students

(Source of picture: personal communication with senior tutor at Suzhou Polytechnic Institute of Agriculture, used with permission)