http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424127887323826704578354070931017596.html?mod=opinion_newsreel
I picture the Chinese hacker who spent part of last year perusing internal Wall Street Journal emails as a scrawny 23-year-old lieutenant with bad English, bad acne and a uniform that is a half-size too large for his frame. He works for a branch of the People’s Liberation Army known as Unit 61398. His office is a nondescript building near Datong Road in Shanghai.I call him Feng. I wonder what Feng does for fun.
I also have a mental picture of the censor who decides which articles or editions of The Wall Street Journal to ban in China. In my imagination she’s a matronly woman with good English named Mei. Mei works for CNPIEC—the state-owned China National Publications Import & Export Corporation—which has offices near Beijing’s Workers’ Stadium.
There’s a pond next to the stadium. I imagine Mei sometimes takes her lunch breaks on a bench by the water’s edge, quietly reading unredacted copies of Western publications.
The world knows about Unit 61398 thanks to a report last month by the Virginia-based Mandiant Corporation, which traced the source of many of the hacks into U.S. companies, including the Journal, to the Datong Road address. And the Journal knows CNPIEC’s censorship because we take note of what gets banned or torn out of our newspapers when they are distributed in China.
In 2006, a year’s worth of censorship amounted to eight articles being torn out of the paper. In 2012, the censorship was up more than 13-fold. Maps that treat Taiwan as a country: out. Articles critical of Beijing’s policies toward Tibetans or Uighurs: out. A review of two books about Mao Zedong’s Great Leap Forward and the famine he caused: out. Articles about intrigues at the top level of the Communist Party: out.