The emperor does know

A CENTRAL contradiction in the story of Chen Guangcheng, the blind activist who fled last month to the American embassy, is one that also lies at the heart of Chinese political life. Mr Chen considers one official in his home prefecture of Linyi in Shandong province to be most responsible for the human-rights abuses committed against him and others. Yet that official, Li Qun, has never been punished. Indeed he has been promoted several times, and is now one of Shandong's most powerful officials. The abuses of which Mr Chen speaks include forced abortions and sterilisations that Mr Chen was jailed for documenting; the use of thugs to beat and intimidate him and his family; and the illegal house arrest from which Mr Chen escaped last month to take refuge in the American embassy. He is now awaiting papers to leave China for study in America.

Like many Chinese, Mr Chen portrays his own struggle as part of a wider gulf between an overwhelmed central government and maverick local authorities. After his escape, in a videotaped message, he implored the prime minister, Wen Jiabao, to investigate abuses in Linyi. Speaking from his hospital bed in Beijing, where he is recuperating from a broken foot suffered during his escape, Mr Chen says: “It is clear that the central government needs to turn over the Shandong soil in which the crimes of local officials have grown.” It is a modern rendering of an ancient countryside lament: “If only the emperor knew…”