In the run up to the Games, China’s bare-foot spin doctors are again reminding people to be vigilant, as Fergus Naughton explains:

    The head of Urumqi’s Public Security Bureau last week announced that China’s police force had cracked five terrorist groups in the Xinjiang region over the first half of 2008, and had detained 82 suspects who “allegedly plotted sabotage against the Beijing Olympics.”  Citing Xinjiang security chief Chen Zhuanqwei, state media said that during this period the police had also destroyed 41 training bases of ‘holy war.’

     Xinjiang terrorists, Dalai cliques, Falun Gong, secessionist splittist snake spirits…..you never know where or when they might attack. The newest focus for Beijing's beefed-up security campaign is the city's greatly expanded subway system; authorities are making huge efforts to try to ensure no security lapses during the Olympic games.

     The build-up of security in the underground system has been all the more noticeable as locals fumble with coins and swipe cards upon the recent introduction of brand new automated ticketing and turnstile units at each stop, creating lengthy debates among subway goers and even lengthier queues. Each day a gaggle of young subway security guards man X-ray machines while others congregate by the turnstiles wielding magnetic wands.

     And, according to the Beijing Municipal Public Security Bureau, the checks are working. State media reported that since they began June 29, Beijing police have detained 39 passengers who were packing ‘prohibited’ knives. Security personnel checked nearly two million subway goers and 3,400 ‘forbidden articles’ were seized. Law-breakers could face detention for between five to fifteen days, the bureau warned. The majority of seized items were ‘flammable goods such as oil, paint, wine and thinner’ and some 2,000 people carrying such materials were denied entry to innards of the subway  system – artists be warned.

      Initially it was solely the usual suspects – ruddy faced peasants and labourers - who were subjected to inspections and searches. But lately foreigners too have been targeted. Just the other day, a group of bewildered-looking Dutch tourists, with about 10 wide-eyed kids in tow, had all their handbags, camera cases and Snoopy backpacks X-rayed at downtown Chaoyangmen subway station in a new departure.

    The whole process only took about ten minutes but it was a bizarre scene. When asked why this group of foreign families were searched -- and not, say a dodgy-looking male in his twenties with a Chinese kung fu sword strapped across his back, with “Chinese kung fu sword” embroidered along the sheath -- the security guard uttered those fateful words in Chinese: “there is no why.”

To the uninitiated, his response is not a form of post-Derridean linguistic play, nor does it echo China’s homegrown and long forgotten Chan, or Zen, Buddhism. 

  It simply means, there is no ‘why.’  Ask a stupid question….. So perhaps this random searching of the offensively inoffensive Dutch tourists was just that – random. And, with a claimed extra 3,000 security inspectors searching for “dangerous articles including guns, ammunition, knives, explosives, flammable and radioactive materials, and toxic chemicals” in over 93 subway stations across the city, this random stop-and-search of potential security threats could well become a reality for many of Beijing’s subterranean commuters.

   Some have taken the disruptions in stride. “We don’t really mind,” said one of the Dutch parents whilst trying to restrain her child from making a run for it.  “It’s for our own protection.” But protection from whom?

     Talking to locals about the issue reveals a sentiment shared by many – this year there’s already been a lot of trouble in China, and during the Games they don’t want any more of it. Especially not in the capital.  May’s tragic earthquake in Sichuan pushed to the back of many minds the disturbances in Tibet as well as repeated ‘terrorist threats’ from the majority-Muslim Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region in the far northwest of the country.

       In March of this year the government revealed that it had foiled an orchestrated terrorist attempt on a China Southern Airlines passenger flight from the Xinjiang capital of Urumqi to Beijing, and further calls were made to beef up security across the nation to prevent any future attack from taking place.

        Despite some positive signs that China was beginning to take international security seriously, many observers, both Chinese and foreign, were noticeably sceptical about this ‘terror plot.’ Scant information was offered concerning the details of the plot; names, photos, police testimonies, details about precise charges and convicting evidence were hard to come by.

Many dismissed the story as mere fear-mongering, a device often claimed to be used by Western powers to boost support for their draconian ‘anti-terrorism’ laws.

But in fact, trouble could come from other disgruntled quarters too. Spontaneous protests across the country seem to hit the headlines more and more.  The recent 30,000-strong riots in southern Guizhou over allegations that police covered up the death of a young girl whose parents and friends claim to have been raped and murdered by a local with government connections, exemplifies the wild-fire nature and deep-rooted grievances of many. Meanwhile, labor disputes, pollution protests, violence over forced or ill-compensated evictions continue to erupt.

    So far, local citizens don’t seem to mind heightened security everywhere from local villages to expressways to the airport – and now, in Beijing’s subway. Returning from work the other day, I and a young couple who looked like they’d just raided the Adidas store, judging by the amount of NBA regalia on them, were confronted by a security officer at the downtown Wangfujing subway station.

The couple in matching Houston Rockets jerseys duly followed the uniformed subway sergeant for some X-ray shenanigans. I -- hot, damp, sweaty, and wielding a sack of Whiskas dried cat food, beef flavoured – was is in no mood for messing about, especially with the threat of hungry and bored cats awaiting my return. Motioning towards the X-ray machine I looked at the bloke in the uniform and then at my feline fodder and said “mate, you must be joking!”