On March 4 this year, just as China’s annual legislative meetings were set to open, the government surprised journalists with the decision to scrap the annual news conference with the premier, ending a practice in place for three decades . For most, this change was yet another sign of China’s inward turn. A press conference with the foreign minister three days later finally gave the international press an opportunity for a face-to-face, and Wang Yi (王毅) seemed eager to appear open and off-the-cuff.
As the spotlight fell on Ameen Muneer Mohammed Al-Obaidi, a reporter with the Dubai-based China-Arab TV, the foreign minister became jocular: “Are you the young man who performed the kemusan dance [online]?” he beamed, referencing a freestyle street dance that had gone viral on China’s internet the previous year. Al-Obaidi, who is Iraqi, then lobbed a softball question that referenced China’s external propaganda policies. “What role can foreign reporters play in telling China’s story well?” he asked in faultless Chinese.
This exchange, no doubt intended to appear unscripted, highlights how fundamentally China has shifted the game in recent years to advance its state narrative. For starters, it has expelled experienced foreign correspondents and made visa approvals difficult; it has stacked the deck at government events with compliant guest reporters on government-run journalism exchanges. The Al-Obaidi case is likely something different altogether — the crea.
