The Juiciest Scandals Leaked By Chinese Microblogs

Media censorship and China go together like holiday gluttony and a New Year's gym membership. Or peanut butter and jelly. Hell, whatever inane coupling you'd prefer to substitute into this analogy; the point is that this is nothing new. In fact, whenever China's simulacra of complete internal harmony and accord is threatened, authorities there resort to extreme measures to prevent the dissemination of this information into the media—including the use of giant plaid umbrellas.

Yet, the increasing popularity and proliferation of Chinese social media microblogs like Sina Weibo have made policing the flow of dissident chatter increasingly difficult. Once leaked, information is shared so rapidly that small tidbits of gossip can blow up into front-page scandals overnight, leaving no time for cyber cops to cover their tracks.

Last month, the Chinese government decided to put the muzzle on bloggers through a new round of Internet sanctions. According to the New York Times, the Communist Party's Central Committee declared at its annual meeting that a new "Internet management system" would be enforced to "punish those who spread harmful information." As part of this plan, bloggers will have to register accounts with their real names and identification numbers. The logic being that without the obscurity of anonymity, bloggers will be less likely to spread slander.

This regulation comes in the wake of several years of juicy political scandals that were broken by the whistleblowing of vigilant netizens on microblogging platforms. As a paean to these brave (or just bored) cyber watchdogs, here’s a look at a few sleazebag scandals brought to light by Chinese Internet users.

Poor Xie Zhiqiang. In an attempt to fit in with the hip crowd, the municipal health director decided to hop on the micro-blogging bandwagon. He failed to realize, however, that his updates would be publically visible. So when Xie tweeted his mistress, also a married woman, to arrange their next rendezvous, their meeting time, hotel room number, and proposed sex positions ("Baby, it does not feel good when you touch me through all those layers of clothes. I want you to suck with your mouth") were exposed for millions of tickled readers. The guileless Xie didn't even realize his mistake until reporters came knocking on his front door. The kicker: Xie was also a huge cheapskate, and even reminded his paramour to keep her receipts so he could get them expensed at work.

Thanks to funding from the Chinese government's economic stimulus plan, China has the longest high-speed rail network in the world, with some lines powered by futuristic "magnetic levitation" technology. These rail services are widely understood as symbols of national prestige and development, so when a horrific accident on July 25, 2011 killed 38 passengers and injured 200, the authorities scrambled to control the damage—by ordering media outlets to avoid covering the story. "There must be no seeking after the causes (of the accident)," read the propaganda directives, which were leaked online.

It was the survivors themselves who broke the story to the public, by posting cellphone pictures of the destruction while trapped in train carriages and awaiting rescue. As images deluged the Chinese blogosphere, one in particular hinted at an insidious (and literal) cover-up attempt by the government. It showed bulldozers shoveling dirt over mangled carriages mere hours after the disaster. Chinese netizens were enraged by the paltry rescue attempt and subsequent media blackout. "When a country is so corrupt…none of us is exempt. China today is a train rushing through a lightning storm (and) we are all passengers," asserted one of the most popular blog comments on Sina Weibo.

Detailed note taking is a valuable skill, especially for high-ranking bureaucrats. Except when you're recounting your sexytime with colleagues, calculating the bribes you've received, and describing your life of luxury—in your secret diary. Top bureau director Han Feng was suspended from his job and faced 13 years imprisonment after his private journal was stolen by the scorned husband of one of his lovers, who leaked them on Tianya, another popular microblog, as icy cold revenge.

Han's obsessive attention to detail (or obsession with himself) can be seen in each of his entries. For example, on October 5th, we're told it was 24—31℃, overcast, and that Han stayed at home playing with his cellphone. Interspersed between such inane cataloging, juicy descriptions of Han's profligate sexcapades abound. One of the grossest: "Tan is going to get married on the 29th and still wants to play with me. Chatted for a while and had sex in the middle of the night, she was bleeding again. Slept for a bit and did it again in the morning, this time she did not bleed."

In addition to sleeping with his female co-workers, Han frequently accepted bribes from local government officials, policemen and company directors. His "business trips" were revealed to be leisure vacations, and netizens calculated that he got drunk at least five times per week.

By the way, Internet censorship isn't just a "China thing." The Great Firewall of America is an imminent possibility, and you should probably think about trying to stop it before it engulfs us all in e-flames.

• Why You Might Join China’s Largest Social Network
• Europe Needs Money From China; Here’s What the Chinese People Want In Return
• Europe Needs Money From China; Here’s What the Chinese People Want In Return
• Ai Weiwei’s Architecture of Freedom
• Father of Great Firewall Speaks Out, Is Promptly Censored