INTERSECTIONS/ December 12, 2024
A rundown of issues, analysis, and must-read stories about women and female representation in the Sinophone landscape.
Dear subscribers,
Welcome to the sixth edition of Intersections — our monthly Lingua Sinica bulletin dedicated to women’s issues and feminism in the Chinese-language media space.
This month, I delve into the chilling reality of a new booming industry in China revolving around voyeurism and the selling of spycams; how a newly released film in Taiwan grapples with the complexity of wanted and unwanted motherhood; and how domestic abuse cases are handled in China.
I’ll say again what I always say — I’d love to make this a conversation, so please reach out. We want to hear from any of you about new outlets, stories, perspectives, or contributions.
As the Christmas holidays are approaching and my flight back to Italy is one week away, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas! I’ll see all of you again in 2025!
Dalia Parete
CMP Researcher
dalia@chinamediaproject.org
THE BOOK CLUB
Her Way: A Traveler's Guide “Women's Roads” in Taiwan
Recognizing that the existence of women has been systematically overlooked in “records of literature, history and landscapes” in Taiwan because of the dominance of traditional patriarchal culture, a group of scholars and activists in the country has been working since 2015 to reconstruct the life stories of women and “bring women in history to the forefront to show how they have shaped Taiwan's society today.” The result is the travel guide Her Way: Discovering Taiwan Through Her Stories! (走她的路：台灣「女路」旅遊指南，帶你探索每個她的故事). The authors of the book, which is now available in Taiwan, write: “We hope that through walking with this book, we can change the stereotypes and perceptions of the past so as to minimize the barriers between genders, ethnic groups, and cultures, and to enhance the visibility and subjectivity of various ethnic groups in various fields.”
Interested in a copy of this unique and necessary guidebook? Taiwan’s EsliteBookstore (誠品線上) carries a print version of the book for 332 TWD (10.20 USD), and a digital version for just 279 TWD (9 USD).
OFFICIAL FRAMING
Love Education
University students, are you ready for your "love course" (恋爱课)? In the latest in a series of responses to promote marriage and childbirth, the Chinese Communist Party now seems fixated on the idea of related university-level courses. Such classes have been around in various forms for around 10 years — but could possibly accelerate in China as the leadership grows more and more concerned about falling birth rates.
That concern was registered at the highest level just over a year ago, in August 2023, during a conference of the All-China Women's Federation, when Xi Jinping delivered what China’s official state media have touted as his most important speech on the issue of childbearing. He stressed the need to “actively foster a new culture of marriage and childbearing” (新型婚育文化), which, according to Party media readouts on the concept, “advocates age-appropriate marriage and love-based marriage” as well as infant and child health, and mutual responsibility for child-rearing.
One response to what the leadership has clearly identified as a priority is widespread education on love, marriage, and, by extension, fertility. This is where the "love course" (婚恋课程) comes into play.
Earlier this month, the China Population Daily (中国人口日报), a newspaper under the supervision of China’s National Health Commission, published an article — "Colleges and Universities Should Serve as the Main Position in Love Education" — that argued that “love courses” should be integrated into the university elective curriculum nationwide in China. The article follows measures released back in October by the General Office of the State Council directing youth to be educated to create a "fertility-friendly society" (生育友好型社会). Courses on the subject said the measures must "vigorously advocate positive views on marriage, fertility, and family . . . . integrating relevant content into primary and secondary school, undergraduate and college education.” The document and the follow-up coverage this month from China Population Daily could point to an acceleration in the trend of university “love courses” in 2025.
Earlier this year, Tianjin University introduced a course called “Love and Happiness” (爱与幸福) as a university-wide public elective. The story prompted nationwide coverage. While some have gotten behind these courses, and one 2020 study by China Youth Daily claimed that more than 90 percent of university students supported them, others have criticized them as making a political matter out of personal choices and have also expressed concern that they might be “full of traditional values.”
IN MOTION
Exploring Motherhood
During this year's Golden Horse awards, held in Taipei, the film Daughter’s Daughter (我女兒的女兒) swept five awards, from Best Actress to Best Costume Design. Directed by Taiwanese filmmaker Huang Xi (黃熙), this heartfelt film explores the struggles of modern women, including the complex relationship between mothers and daughters. The film had its world premiere back in September at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF).
The plot revolves around Jin Aixia (金艾霞), played by the talented actress Sylvia Chiang (張艾嘉), who has to grapple with the heartbreaking reality of her daughter Zuer’s death in the United States. Jin Aixia must travel to the US, where she learns that Zuer had been undergoing in vitro fertilization. She now has the role of legal guardian of her daughter’s frozen embryo and is forced to confront her complicated feelings about motherhood. These events also lead the protagonist to reckon with old feelings about her first daughter, Emma, whom she gave up for adoption during her youth.
The film depicts the harsh daily realities that women — mothers and daughters alike — face as they grapple with societal changes and challenges. It also touches upon timely themes such as artificial reproduction and LGBTQ+ issues. Daughter’s Daughter is an authentic depiction of the multi-layered role of motherhood across generations.
A graduate of NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, Huang Xi is now based in Taipei. Her previous films include Missing Johnny and the series Twisted Strings.
If you are in Taiwan, several cinemas are still screening the film.
MAKING WAVES
Invasion of Privacy
One growing menace worldwide in recent years — in most cases, particularly targeting women — has been the placement of spycams in public and private spaces such as hotel rooms and bathrooms. Here in Taiwan, the phenomenon has been serious enough that signs posted in the public bathrooms of the metro must reassure women that these spaces have been searched for hidden cameras.
In China last month, the commercial news outlet The Beijing News (新京报) ran a four-part series about hidden camera usage in the country, shedding light on the industry of voyeurism and its operation. The report is the latest in a number of more investigative and socially relevant stories this year from the outlet, which in the 2000s had a reputation for harder-hitting coverage.
According to The Beijing News, hidden camera voyeurism in China is a well-organized industry chain relying on content provided by perpetrators who purchase the necessary materials online. The reporter was able to purchase hidden cameras and equipment online by searching for certain keywords such as "capsule" (胶囊) or "forensic equipment” (取证神器). Once the equipment was purchased, it arrived quickly at the newspaper’s office in a relatively discrete package with no sender address. The reporter was also able to locate several group chats dedicated to sharing surreptitious video content. The reporter found several group chats that share such content. In order to enter such chats, members generally must pay high entry fees, and then “sellers” within these chats offer live-streamed content for several thousand yuan per view. According to the report, this industry has thrived in China and is experiencing high demand.
Such practices have continued in China despite laws over the past 10 years banning the unlicensed production, sale, or use of surveillance equipment, including hidden cameras and devices with wireless transmission — all of which are classified as "surveillance tools."
In August 2024, a woman identified as Xiaochen (晓晨) discovered a spycam in her room while staying in a hotel in Baotou, Inner Mongolia. Her immediate reaction was to expose the issue to the public, using her social media and writing a negative review of the hotel. Instead of being heard, she received a civil lawsuit from the hotel, claiming her actions had harmed their reputation.
Gao Yandong ( 高艳东), the deputy director of Zhejiang University's Digital Law Institute, told The Beijing News that China should “introduce new measures to fill the loopholes in the existing criminal law system for voyeurism.”
PRIORITY GAPS
Punishing Domestic Violence
According to research conducted by the World Health Organization in 2013, one of every three women globally has been or will be the victim of domestic violence. Some experts suggest this figure could be even higher in China, where the issue has been highlighted in recent years by cases like the “chained woman” of Xuzhou and a set of high-profile murders by husbands of their wives.
To mark the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women on November 25, the Communist Party-affiliated All-China Women's Federation (中华全国妇女联合会) and the Supreme People’s Court released a catalog of “Five Exemplary Cases of Domestic Violence,” which they hoped would “draw attention to the prevention of domestic violence” and “reduce incidences of domestic violence at their source.” The outlines of these cases take an unequivocal tone, condemning domestic violence as a “cancer on society” and tying its elimination to a slew of core CCP theoretical concepts: “national progress” (民族进步), “social harmony” (社会和谐), and “the construction of family civilization” (家庭文明) inclusive.
What it doesn’t do, however, is acknowledge that domestic violence is more than an issue of crime and punishment. Take the second case, involving a woman surnamed Zhao, for example. Zhao killed her husband after enduring years of abuse and was handed a lighter sentence in consideration of these circumstances — a fact which, we are told, illustrates the legal system’s leniency in dealing with victims of domestic violence who lash out against their abusers. The questions of why Zhao had to deal with so many years of abuse and why no one ever came to her help earlier, though, are not addressed. Doing so might not reflect so well on authorities — particularly given the high level of social monitoring by the CCP within Chinese communities.
It would also mean recognizing that the problem is rooted in notions of patriarchy that are increasingly being used to prop up the Party’s rule and promote the aggressive, muscular nationalism favored by Xi Jinping — and that, as hard as the Party might try to be part of the solution, it is also, inevitably, part of the problem as well.
MAKING WAVES
Caring for Taiwan’s Caregivers
As Taiwan edges toward its own “silent crisis” owing to its rapidly aging population and plummeting birth rates, the country has become increasingly dependent on migrant caretakers to look after its elderly. Despite their indispensable role, however, these workers — most often women from neighboring Southeast Asian nations — are not protected by Taiwan’s Labor Standards Act (勞動基準法) and are left vulnerable to exploitation as a result.
This pressing issue was the subject of a recent speech delivered by Li-Fang Liang (梁莉芳), a sociology professor at National Dong Hwa University (國立東華大學) on the east coast of Taiwan. At a press conference for the Taiwan Labor Care Industry Union (台灣照顧勞動產業工會), a labor rights advocacy group founded earlier this year, Liang highlighted the difficult conditions facing the 220,000 migrant workers in Taiwan and argued for their legal protection. “A big reason” why they are so undervalued, she said, “is that we don't see caregiving as a formal job [but view it as] a woman's natural instinct and [something that] doesn't require much professional training or skills development.” While migrant caregivers may receive verbal thanks, she says, they are not afforded the basics: a fair salary and the legal protections that Taiwanese citizens take for granted.
Read Prof. Liang’s speech in full on the website of the Awakening Foundation, a legal and legislative advocacy group fighting for gender equality and women's empowerment in Taiwan.
