Costas
¥
Fair enough (κι εγώ αντί να κάνω τη βαλίτσα μου για τις 2.00 πμ...)
(NYT)
Gao Zhisheng , a self-taught legal rights defender, has been missing since April of last year, disappearing soon after he defied the authorities by telling a reporter about the torture he endured during an earlier detention. Liu Xia, the wife of the jailed Nobel peace laureate Liu Xiaobo, has been held incommunicado since October. And this month, a United States rights group released a letter by the wife of a lawyer, Chen Guangcheng, who is blind, that described the beatings the couple suffered during months of forced confinement in their rural village.
For those who have grown accustomed to speaking their mind, the restrictions can be hard to swallow. Zhao Lianhai, a Beijing activist who sought greater compensation for the victims of a tainted milk scandal, gained early release from a two-and-a-half-year prison term after he reportedly pledged to stop his public protests. ³I support and thank the government, and I feel deeply sorry for the remarks I made against the government in the past,² Mr. Zhao wrote in an online message to supporters after his parole last December.
But three months later, prompted by the detention of Mr. Ai, he broke his silence with a torrent of Twitter comments that have become increasingly impassioned and frequent. ³I¹m ashamed of myself for not speaking up until now,² he wrote in one of his first dispatches. ³I cannot stay silent anymore. I¹m ready to go back to prison. I would rather die than give in.²
Wu Lihong, a Jiangsu Province environmentalist who served three years in prison after exposing local officials whose machinations allowed a lake to become fouled with industrial pollution, was told he would be jailed again if he publicly revealed the details of his mistreatment in custody, which he says included whippings and cigarette burns.
Speaking by telephone on Thursday, Mr. Wu described the web of other restrictions that he said were imposed by the police since his release last year: No Internet access and no interviews with the media ‹ and under no circumstances was he to photograph the lake. Although he remains free, Mr. Wu, a machine salesman by trade, says he has paid a steep price for his intransigence. Each time he finds a job, he said, the police arrange for his prompt dismissal. In recent months, he has survived by growing vegetables on the small plot of land next to his house, he said.
It is too soon to tell what kind of restrictions Mr. Ai may face on his ability to work, socialize or communicate with the outside world. Any impulse to speak out may be tempered by the knowledge that three of his associates remain in detention as part of a financial inquiry that his family says is groundless.
(NYT)
Gao Zhisheng , a self-taught legal rights defender, has been missing since April of last year, disappearing soon after he defied the authorities by telling a reporter about the torture he endured during an earlier detention. Liu Xia, the wife of the jailed Nobel peace laureate Liu Xiaobo, has been held incommunicado since October. And this month, a United States rights group released a letter by the wife of a lawyer, Chen Guangcheng, who is blind, that described the beatings the couple suffered during months of forced confinement in their rural village.
For those who have grown accustomed to speaking their mind, the restrictions can be hard to swallow. Zhao Lianhai, a Beijing activist who sought greater compensation for the victims of a tainted milk scandal, gained early release from a two-and-a-half-year prison term after he reportedly pledged to stop his public protests. ³I support and thank the government, and I feel deeply sorry for the remarks I made against the government in the past,² Mr. Zhao wrote in an online message to supporters after his parole last December.
But three months later, prompted by the detention of Mr. Ai, he broke his silence with a torrent of Twitter comments that have become increasingly impassioned and frequent. ³I¹m ashamed of myself for not speaking up until now,² he wrote in one of his first dispatches. ³I cannot stay silent anymore. I¹m ready to go back to prison. I would rather die than give in.²
Wu Lihong, a Jiangsu Province environmentalist who served three years in prison after exposing local officials whose machinations allowed a lake to become fouled with industrial pollution, was told he would be jailed again if he publicly revealed the details of his mistreatment in custody, which he says included whippings and cigarette burns.
Speaking by telephone on Thursday, Mr. Wu described the web of other restrictions that he said were imposed by the police since his release last year: No Internet access and no interviews with the media ‹ and under no circumstances was he to photograph the lake. Although he remains free, Mr. Wu, a machine salesman by trade, says he has paid a steep price for his intransigence. Each time he finds a job, he said, the police arrange for his prompt dismissal. In recent months, he has survived by growing vegetables on the small plot of land next to his house, he said.
It is too soon to tell what kind of restrictions Mr. Ai may face on his ability to work, socialize or communicate with the outside world. Any impulse to speak out may be tempered by the knowledge that three of his associates remain in detention as part of a financial inquiry that his family says is groundless.
