China Society
Beyond Climate Change Concerns: Fukushima Fear and Eco-Anxiety in China
“Is our world turning into an apocalyptic survival game?” Fears over Fukushima waste water and other global threats are fueling public anxiety in China.
Published
1 year agoon
While there isn’t a heated ongoing debate about global warming and climate change in China, it doesn’t imply that people are apathetic about the environment and well-being of future generations. Public expressions of ‘eco-anxiety’ and fears for the future are channeled towards different topics in China, where some believe that recent global challenges have transformed their lives into an ‘apocalyptic survival game.’
Over the past ten days, Japan’s decision to release treated nuclear water has ignited waves of anger and concern on Chinese social media platforms. Many netizens express worries about how the Fukushima wastewater might impact the marine ecosystem, while others are deeply concerned about the long-term repercussions of this pollution on their food safety and overall well-being in the coming decades.
The huge public concern over the Fukushima water seemingly poses a stark contrast with that over climate change. As Miranda Barnes recently noted in our Weibo Watch newsletter, the urgent implications of climate change and global warming caused by human activities are a huge topic of debate in Western countries, especially in relation to extreme weather. In China however, the phenomenon of “eco-anxiety” doesn’t resonate among the public in the same manner as it does in Western discourse, despite notable events like China recording historically high temperatures in July, the impact of Typhoon Doksuri, last summer’s wildfires and this summer’s devastating floods.
In a recent Reuters article about the discussions surrounding climate change in China, a Greenpeace senior adviser called it a “big missed opportunity” that Chinese state media and official channels did not connect the recent extreme weather in the country to its own carbon emissions and climate change at large.
China’s limited engagement with the climate change discourse is also noticeable in the realm of social media. Researchers Chuxuan Liu and Jeremy Lee Wallace published a study about “China’s missing climate change debate” (2023), concluding that social media site Weibo does not have very active discussions about the topic of climate change at all. They found that only 0.12% of the unique trending topics on Weibo from June 2017 to February 2021 were related to this theme.
Some news articles suggest that the lack of climate crisis discussions in China relates to the challenges faced by grass-roots environmental movements in contemporary China, alongside censorship.
But climate anxiety is not the only form of eco-anxiety, and it would be a misconception to assume that absence of panic over climate issues means that Chinese people are not concerned about the environment or the well-being of future generations at all. As explained in Eco-Anxiety and Pandemic Distress, various global threats, including climate change, ecological challenges, and pandemics, are interconnected in multiple ways. Pandemics can influence ecological problems, for example, and ecological dynamics and climate factors can also cause outbreaks and shape pandemics (Pihkala 2023, 1).
Climate change, global warming, and environmental activism may not hold as prominent a place in daily social life and online media in China as in the West, but some topics related to global ecological challenges — often communicated by state media and amplified by public responses — actually garner more engagement than in Western countries.
We delve into a few examples in this article. Given the scope of our discussion, we won’t go into the scientific details behind these phenomena; instead, we’ll center our attention on the public anxiety surrounding them.
Public Panic over Fukushima
Japan’s decision to start discharging treated nuclear water into the Pacific has already become one of the biggest topics on Chinese social media this year. Through Weibo posts, short videos, articles, and memes, people vociferously criticized Japan for what they saw as an irresponsible act of releasing “contaminated water” (污染水) – a concept popularized by official channels highlighting the toxicity of the disposed water, as opposed to the more neutral “treated water” (废水) term.
In the first days surrounding the Fukushima waste water release, a trending topic on Chinese social media highlighted how the move would harm to the oceanic ecosystem, with many people posting photos of dolphins, sealions, whales, fish, and other wildlife that could be affected by water pollution alongside the hashtag “History Won’t Forget.”
In addition to a surge in anti-Japanese sentiments and concerns about the livelihoods of the Chinese fishing industry, another significant aspect of the viral online responses to the Fukushima wastewater issue has been the discussions regarding strategies for how to survive the perceived crisis.
While in the English-language media sphere, critics dismissed the panic as unwarranted, stressing that the disposal is well within safety limits or that environmental impact is negligible, the release of the treated water caused an outbreak of apocalyptic fears and many people immediately took action to protect themselves and their loved ones in various ways.
These fears are widespread, encompassing notions such as the contaminated water having the potential to induce mutations in marine life and elevate the risk of cancer when consumed by humans.
On the day preceding the wastewater release, Chinese state media outlet China Daily launched a hashtag about how “the nuclear-treated water will reach our seashore in 240 days” (#核废水排放后240天就会到达我国沿岸海域#). This statement was based on a Tsinghua University simulation study into how the tritium will spread.
The idea that the contaminated water discharged into the Pacific could reach China within less than eight months quickly gained traction on social media platforms, with many netizens reposting and highlighting the timeline, even planning their “last activities” within these days, such as consuming China-produced seafood or visiting the beach.
Rumors suggesting that the released water would reach the United States long after affecting China and nearby countries also gained widespread online popularity. Some of these analyses led to suspicions that the release of treated water must be a joint conspiracy by Japan and the United States, with the specific aim of targeting the lives of Chinese people.
Guidelines on how everyday practices could mitigate radioactive harm widely circulated. These included recommendations such as taking showers after it rains, identifying makeup products free from radioactive elements, or transitioning to a more vegetarian-based diet. Many of these tips, however, have no scientific basis. One restaurant in Shanghai even started offering anti-radioactive menus.
Meanwhile people began hoarding supplies in preparation for long-term survival. In the coastal city of Weihai, the closest Chinese city to South Korea, four tons of salt were sold in just one hour as citizens queued to stockpile salt on August 24. The salt frenzy stems from collective concerns about the impact of Fukushima water on food safety and that table salt – in the near future and in the decades to come – might also become compromised. There’s also a believe that salt might help in case of radiation pollution (iodized salt, however, is actually no antidote for radiation).
Although muck of the panic buying may have evoked memories of the past Covid years and preparations for the potential next lockdown, people actually also started hoarding salt back in 2011 shortly after the nuclear accident at Fukushima Daiichi in March of that year.
Russia’s Anthrax Outbreak
Similar to the Fukushima wastewater responses, the same question of “how long does it take to arrive in China” also frequently pops up in the discussions surrounding the spread of anthrax in Russia. Anthrax is a serious infectious disease that occurs naturally in soil and can cause severe diseases to both humans and animals.
While Western media mostly focused on the Prigozhin jet crash incident, news of a mysterious anthrax outbreak in Russia (#俄罗斯一地暴发细菌性炭疽病#) has garnered attention on Chinese social media, causing significant concern. A current hypothesis directly connects climate change and the outbreak by suggesting that the thawing of frozen soil might have exposed people to decades-old infected reindeer carcasses.
In the comments under reports about the anthrax outbreak, many people are curious about how close the outbreak is to China’s borders. Others are researching anthrax transmission and fatality rates, wondering if it could turn into another global pandemic.
While most people are concerned about the outbreak’s potential impact, some are politicizing it without clear evidence, accusing the US of engaging in new “biological warfare” in Russia.
The unease about Russia’s anthrax outbreak possibly being linked to “biological warfare” aligns with the public’s anxiety about mutations caused by Japan’s release of radioactive water. These worries amplify existing concerns about environmental changes, drawing parallels with the dystopian world of the Japanese survival horror game “Resident Evil,” where players face environments filled with zombies and other terrifying creatures. In discussions about the anthrax situation, a recurring question emerges: “Why does our reality increasingly resemble an apocalyptic survival game?”
Covid-19 Subvariants and Monkeypox
Apocalyptic game survival always becomes challenging when there are more than two crises unfolding at the same time. Beyond the concerns about contaminated water and anthrax outbreaks, another issue has captured the attention of the Chinese public recently – the spread of the latest Covid-19 subvariants, EG.5 and BA.2.86.
EG.5 is now the most prevalent in the US and has been detected in at least 52 countries. BA.2.86 is much less widespread, but scientists are alarmed by how many mutations it carries.
While more Chinese social media users are sharing their own experiences of getting Covid a third time, people begin to worry about the possible impact of a massive Covid-19 third wave, referred to as sān yáng (三阳). At the same time, some accounts are giving daily updates on new global cases of BA.2.86, and news reports related to new Covid sub-variants ignite strong reactions from netizens.
We have seen similar responses related to news about monkeypox (mpox), with one domestic case of monkeypox occurring in July of this year becoming a top trending topic. Soon after, China saw the world’s fastest increase in cases of mpox, leading to significant concerns expressed by many, with people seeking information on preventive measures to avoid contracting the virus and expressing their hopes that the virus will remain far away from them.
Apocalyptic Games
“The main task is to stay alive”, concluded numerous netizens on Weibo after listing recent hashtags related to nuclear water, anthrax, and the next Covid-19 subvariant in their posts.
The combination of recent crises involving the environment and public health has made the prospect of impending catastrophe feel distressingly real to many. Half-jokingly, young people on Weibo express their concerns about having shorter lifespans. One netizen even humorously remarks, “Paying into your pension plan under these circumstances is almost like a form of romantic heroism,” suggesting that maintaining the belief that one will live long enough to enjoy their pension is overly optimistic and somewhat naive, especially in the face of present-day global challenges.
Beyond concerns about pension plans, a reluctance to have children has also emerged as a common sentiment, especially after Japan’s release of nuclear treated water. A viral screenshot of a street interview in Hong Kong captures the essence of this sentiment. In the interview, a young person nonchalantly responds that he isn’t worried about contamination of Japanese seafood because he doesn’t plan to have children. While not everyone shares this carefree attitude, many agree that having children in the current climate would be risky and senseless given the state of the world today.
Some netizens humorously assume the roles of players in an apocalyptic survival game, assigning different tasks to themselves.
Under the hashtag ‘What China Can Do When Japan Releases Contaminated Water in the Ocean’ (#日本核污水排海中国怎么办#), one netizen outlines tasks for ‘players’ based on priorities: “Primary task: stay alive; Side-quest: prevent a third-time Covid-19 infection; Special Task: prevent Russia’s anthrax; Hidden task: avoid being deceived by North Myanmar; Important task: avoid consuming seafood from the Pacific Ocean; Final task: eliminate zombies.” Similar tasks have been listed in other posts, reflecting the sentiment that a mass extinction event is looming, making survival increasingly challenging.
Eco-Anxiety and a Bleak Future
While the term ‘eco-anxiety’ is familiar in Western societies and used by environmental activists, it has yet to become popular among the general public in mainland China, and there is no widely recognized Chinese translation for it. However, this doesn’t mean that only vocal activists are concerned about ecological disasters, or that ordinary people in China are indifferent to global challenges because their concerns are not framed in terms of climate change or expressed through activism.
As numerous studies have shown, ecological anxiety is not exclusive to the West. It’s just that the Western language and framework may have captured this mentality first, making it easy to overlook individuals in other regions who share the same sentiments but express them differently.
Certainly, as elsewhere, mainstream national media in China also contribute significantly to events and incidents that fuel “eco-anxiety” among the public. Moreover, changing political narratives play a pivotal role in shaping these dynamics.
In contrast to the West, Chinese media doesn’t necessarily connect global warming to the nation’s carbon emissions. A recent article published by The Economist discussed official and public discussions being “inward-looking” and avoiding direct engagement with climate change debates.
However, as recently pointed out by Miranda Barnes in our newsletter, additional factors contribute to the distinct responses of Chinese netizens, particularly regarding personal consumption and how individual behavior is connected to climate change. With many people, especially elderly, feeling they bear no responsibility for major pollution or gas emissions, “extreme weather” (“极端天气”) topics on on Chinese social media mostly center around personal safety, self-rescue strategies, and considerations for insurance rather than the collective responsibility of humanity for causing climate change.
Complicating matters further, the presence of low social trust and public skepticism towards official media exacerbates eco-anxiety and other concerns about well-being and the future. People often believe that prioritizing individual self-help and self-protection is the safer option, leading to behaviors like panic buying, even when official sources advise against hoarding.
It is also noteworthy that many of the topics that people are concerned about when it comes to eco-anxiety and public health scares are linked, either directly or indirectly, to foreign countries. While several socio-historical factors contribute to these fears, there are critics who argue that Chinese leaders might exploit public sentiment against Japan or the US to deflect attention from their own internal economic, ecological, and political challenges. On the other hand, some Chinese commentators interpret the Western world’s apparent indifference to these issues as a prioritization of political strategies and capitalist profits over ecological concerns.
Eco-anxiety is a collective response to various interconnected issues, including pandemics, disease spread, food security, environmental disasters, and the well-being of future generations. It’s like a complex puzzle where many pieces are intertwined, often involving intricate geopolitical and domestic political dimensions.
After the recent Fukushima fears, one person wrote on Weibo: “A while ago when listening to the BBC, I first heard the English term ‘eco-anxiety’ and I originally did not understand at all, why would people suffer from ‘eco-anxiety’? I hadn’t seen anyone around me with such emotions. But I get it now. I’m already deeply anxious myself.”
By Zilan Qian and Manya Koetse, with contributions by Miranda Barnes
Follow @whatsonweibo
References:
Liu, Chuxuan and Jeremy Wallace. 2023. “What’s Not Trending on Weibo: China’s Missing Climate Change Discourse.” Environmental Research Communications 5 (1).
Pihkala, Panu. 2023. “Introduction” In: Eco-Anxiety and Pandemic Distress. Edited by: Douglas A. Vakoch and Sam Mickey, Oxford University Press.
Get the story behind the hashtag. Subscribe to What’s on Weibo here to receive our newsletter and get access to our latest articles:
Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.
©2023 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.
Stories that are authored by the What's on Weibo Team are the stories that multiple authors contributed to. Please check the names at the end of the articles to see who the authors are.
Also Read
China Society
Explaining the Bu Xiaohua Case: How One Woman’s Disappearance Captured Nationwide Attention in China
This is why Bu Xiaohua’s 13-year disappearance became such a major topic of discussion on Chinese social media.
Published
1 month agoon
December 14, 2024PREMIUM CONTENT
The story of Bu Xiaohua, a Chinese MA graduate who was reunited with her family after disappearing for 13 years, has recently dominated discussions on Weibo. Her case reveals much more than just the mystery of her disappearance—it highlights systemic failures and the vulnerability of women in rural China. Here, we unpack the key aspects of her story.
Her name is Bu Xiaohua (卜小花), but for the past 13.5 years, she lived a life without that name and without any connection to the person she once was.
The story of this Chinese female MA graduate from Shanxi’s Jinzhong, born on September 1, 1979, who disappeared for over a decade and was recently found living in a village just a 2.5-hour drive from her hometown, has sparked widespread discussion on Weibo and beyond. We previously explained the story in our article here.
In brief: On November 25, 2024, a woman from Heshun County (和顺县) sought help from volunteer Zhu Yutang (朱玉堂), who focuses on reuniting families with missing loved ones, to trace the origins of her “aunt,” who had been living with her uncle Zhang Ruijun (张瑞军) for over a decade. During this time, they had multiple children together, despite the woman clearly suffering from mental illness.
As volunteer groups and authorities got involved, it was eventually revealed that the woman was Bu Xiaohua (卜小花), an MA graduate from Jinzhong who had disappeared after experiencing a schizophrenic episode in the spring of 2011. Bu was found looking emaciated, bewildered, and unkempt, and was soon reunited with her family, who immediately ensured she received the help she needed. During a medical check-up, she was found to be not only suffering from mental illness but also from malnourishment.
When volunteers first met with Bu, they tried to get her to speak and learn more about her background. Among other things, she also wrote down several clues that led to the discovery of her identity, such as the names of family members. The first thing she wrote down was “run” (跑).
As discussions about Bu’s disappearance continue, several aspects of this case have become focal points, highlighting the vulnerable position of Bu and many other women like her.
1. “收留”: Was She “Taken In” or Abducted?
One term that frequently comes up in discussions around Bu Xiaohua’s case is “收留” (shōu liú), meaning “to take in” or “give shelter.”
This term was used in various reports about Bu’s story, including in the first police report of December 3.
Many netizens pointed out that the initial police statement seemed to frame the situation as an act of human compassion, reflecting the niece’s account of how Ms. Bu allegedly “wandered” into their family home one day. The family claims they reported her to the police but eventually decided to “take her in.”
Netizens are outraged by the use of this term, as it glosses over the criminal responsibility of Zhang and his family, who essentially kept Bu Xiaohua away from her own family for over 13 years. They are accused of exploiting her mental illness and inability to consent to marriage or sexual relations, which resulted in multiple children. The exact number is unclear, though rumors suggest she had six children in total, with only two remaining in her care.
The oldest of the two children is already twelve, meaning she must have become pregnant not too long after going missing.
Some commenters have referred to this as “rape-style sheltering” (“强奸型收留”). Was it rape, human trafficking, or illegal detention?
While netizens speculated about the actual crime behind this “taking in” of a mentally ill woman, local police announced they had opened a criminal investigation into suspected illegal acts. Bu’s “husband” has since been detained, and officials are continuing to investigate the case.
No evidence or clues of Bu being trafficked have been found as of now. Investigations into the case reveal that Bu – displaying signs of mental illness according to witnesses – was alone when she walked around neighboring villages for at least ten days in July and August of 2011, some weeks after she disappeared from her home.
The hashtags “Taking In” (#收留#) and “‘Taking In’ Shouldn’t Be Used as a Cover for Unlawful Realities” (#收留之名难掩不法之实#) have been used by netizens to protest the phrase’s use.
Meanwhile, some reports on the misuse of the term have been censored. The Weibo hashtag “Taking In the Female MA Graduate” (#收留女硕士#) has been taken offline and comes up with a “Sorry, the content of this topic is not displayed” message. A QQ News article titled “Female Master’s Graduate Missing for 13 Years Has Given Birth to a Son and a Daughter; The Person Who ‘Took Her In’ Responds: ‘I Didn’t Detain or Hit Her'” (“女硕士走失13年已生育一儿一女,“收留者”本人回应”) also now leads to a ‘404 page,’ indicating it has been removed.
Critics like Lawyer Zhao (@披荆斩棘赵律师), who has actively commented on this case, believe that Bu’s “husband” and his family never made any real effort to help her find her own family. They speculate that the family only agreed to let volunteers get involved because Bu’s childbearing value had long been exhausted, or because she was aging and they no longer wanted to care for her.
Zhang’s niece, whose request to volunteers initially brought this story to light, has also become an increasingly controversial figure. She recently hosted a livestream in which she claimed that the Zhang family had actually taken good care of Bu, describing her as a “good-for-nothing” who neither did housework nor fed her own children. She also defended her impoverished and disabled unlce Zhang, claiming the family is not as bad as the public says.
“Let her experience being ‘taken in’ by another family and see how she feels,” some top commenters suggested in response.
2. Lacking Law Enforcement: Systematic Failures Exposed
The outrage over the term “taking in” is directly tied to anger over inadequate law enforcement regarding the protection of women in rural China.
Years ago, local police in Heshun County, where Zhang’s family lives, were already aware of a mentally unstable woman being “taken into” a man’s home and giving birth to his children. After all, both children had a hukou (household registration). Chinese media report that police officers visited the home multiple times and allegedly continued efforts to search for her family, which indicates they understood her situation. People wonder how they could let this go on, given Zhang’s continued sexual relations with her—wouldn’t that constitute rape?
Female commenter and author Zheng Yuchuan (@郑渝川) suggested that Bu’s case is particularly troubling because of systematic failure at all levels. She wrote:
“Despite population censuses, pandemic prevention measures like mass nucleic acid testing and vaccinations, as well as the issuance of birth certificates, household registrations, and school admission procedures for the two children—every single step was carried out flawlessly. Isn’t this the biggest joke within the current institutional system?”
Although there are reports emphasizing the continued efforts of the police to find Bu’s family, many netizens aren’t convinced: “Why is it that the police took blood samples and conducted facial recognition comparisons, yet after 13 years, they achieved nothing? Meanwhile, a volunteer, using just a bit of intelligence, managed to make her write down some names, and this bizarre case was solved.”
Law blogger Zhang San (@张三同学) commented: “A single crime pollutes a river; a single act of unjust law enforcement pollutes the entire water source.”
3. A Brilliant Mind: Bu Xiaohua’s Academic Achievements
Another recurring topic is Bu’s academic achievements before her life with the Zhang family. Bu was a student in Yanshan University’s (燕山大学) Mechanics and Engineering program, a prestigious major.
In 2004, she wrote a thesis titled “Temperature Field of a Thin Plate with Curved Cracks During Electrothermal Crack Arrest” (带有曲线裂纹薄板电热止裂时的温度场). Her 2006 thesis was “Small Bending Deformation of an Elastic Thin Plate Under Continuous Transverse Flow-Around Conditions” (不间断横向绕流条件下弹性薄板的小弯曲变形). She obtained her MA degree in 2008.
Bu had planned to continue in academia, but due to an expired ID card, she was unable to register for her Ph.D. exam—a setback that marked the beginning of her rapidly deteriorating mental health. This eventually led to her leaving her home one day in 2011, vanishing without a trace, and ending up in her dire situation with the Zhang family.
Her education is significant to the story in many ways. First, it serves as an important bridge to her past. One of her former professors, the 82-year-old Bai Xiangzhong (白象忠), was one of the names Bu first wrote on a note when volunteers from the missing persons organization came to her house and asked her about her life.
In recent news, it became known that Bai Xiangzhong learned of Bu’s story and was moved to tears upon hearing about her circumstances.
Bu’s education is also an important part of her identity. Recent videos showed Bu reading a book and pushing back her glasses—which she hadn’t had for 13.5 years—as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
One popular Weibo blogger (@我不是谦哥儿) wrote:
“More than the Master’s degree she obtained years ago, it’s this natural skill [the way she reads and pushes back her glasses] in which we can directly observe and vividly feel the life she had. We can feel that, if it were not for the dusky farmhouse in the mountainous area where she got trapped, there would have been an entirely different possibility [for her life].”
But her education is also significant in other ways. It shows that it is not just low-income, less-educated, rural women who can become victims of rape and human trafficking, but that even women with a university degree can end up in such situations.
4. Bu Xiaohua’s Case: A Reflection of Larger Social Issues
In the end, the story of Bu Xiaohua is attracting so much attention because she represents much more than just herself.
One of the most well-known stories similar to hers is that of Xiao Huamei (小花梅), the mother of eight children who was found tied to a shed in Xuzhou in 2022. After her story became a major trending topic on Chinese social media, local authorities launched a thorough investigation and uncovered the woman’s true identity. They found that she had been a victim of human trafficking back in 1998.
Like Bu, Xiao Huamei also suffered from mental illness. And similar to Bu’s case, local authorities failed to step in. The family received subsidies, and local officials approved the marriage between the mentally ill woman and her husband, Dong Zhimin, who was later sentenced to prison for his involvement in the human trafficking case.
This all brings back associations with the Chinese film Blind Mountain (盲山, 2007). Directed by Li Yang (李杨), the movie revolves around Bai Xuemei (白雪梅), a recent college graduate who is tricked into traveling to a remote mountain village under the pretense of securing a job. Once there, she is drugged, kidnapped, and sold into a forced marriage with a rural farmer. Trapped in the isolated and impoverished village, she faces constant physical and psychological abuse from her “husband,” his family, and even the local community, who see her captivity as normal or necessary. Despite multiple attempts to escape, she is repeatedly caught and encounters indifference or complicity from those around her, including the police. She is only rescued years later.
Films such as Blind Mountain and the 2022 case of Xiao Huamei have helped create more awareness of the vulnerable position of Chinese women in rural areas, particularly those dealing with mental or physical disabilities. Last year, a marriage in Henan was denied after a local official found the woman, who was deaf and mute, had not learned sign language and could not write (read more).
But the problem persists. China, particularly its rural villages, faces a shortage of women stemming from the decades-long one-child policy and a traditional preference for boys. This has been further exacerbated by women migrating out of villages in search of better prospects. As a result, many rural single men are unable to marry, especially when they face additional challenges such as poverty or disability. Since marriage and children are considered social norms, these men and their families are often willing to take drastic measures. This situation has fueled the human trafficking of women for forced marriage in China since the 1980s.
“Why not re-release Blind Mountain?” some wonder. “It feels so relevant today.”
As for Bu, she is currently doing well given the circumstances. Her brother, who searched for her for so many years, is determined to take care of his sister. “My little sister is the treasure of our entire family,” he recently said. “Every day that I am on this earth is a day that I will take care of her.”
By Manya Koetse
(follow on X, LinkedIn, or Instagram)
Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.
©2024 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.
China Insight
Story of Chinese Female MA Graduate Going Missing for 13 Years Sparks Online Storm
The story of the Chinese MA graduate, Ms. Bu, who disappeared in 2011 brings back memories of the Xuzhou mother of eight, who was later revealed to be a victim of human trafficking.
Published
1 month agoon
December 10, 2024Once a promising Master’s graduate in Engineering, Ms. Bu went missing for 13.5 years. Her return marks the end of her family’s long search, but it is the beginning of an online movement. Chinese netizens are not only demanding answers about how she could have remained missing for so long but also want clarity about the puzzling inconsistencies in her story.
Over the past few days, Chinese social media users have been actively spreading awareness about a case involving a Chinese woman who they suspect became a victim of human trafficking.
Netizens trying to draw attention to this story used the hashtag “Female MA Graduate Becomes a Victim of Human Trafficking” (#女硕士被拐卖#). Between December 6 and December 10, the hashtag garnered 150 million views on Weibo.
The case centers on a Chinese female Master’s graduate from Yuxi District in Shanxi Province’s Jinzhong, who went missing for over thirteen years. Now reunited with her family, netizens are demanding clarity and answers about how she could have disappeared for so long.
This case, which has sparked emotional and outraged responses online, brings back memories of another incident that became a landmark moment for online feminism in China: the case of the Xuzhou mother of eight children, who was discovered chained in a shed next to her family home. Her husband was later sentenced to nine years in prison for his role in her human trafficking.
A Niece’s Search into the Origins of Her Mysterious Aunt
The online movement to raise awareness about this case began well before it gained traction on December 6. It all started when a young woman named Zhang (张) from He Shun County (和顺县) contacted a volunteer group dedicated to reuniting missing individuals. On November 25 of this year, Zhang sought their help in tracking down the family of her somewhat mysterious “aunt.”
According to Zhang, her aunt—who suffered from mental illness—had been living with her uncle for over a decade. Despite this long history, the family knew almost nothing about her past. Wanting to know more, Zhang reached out to the group in hopes of learning about her aunt’s origins.
Zhang claimed that her “aunt” had wandered into their family home one day fifteen years ago. Although they reportedly informed the police, no action was taken, and they allegedly decided to “take her in.” After about two years, she ended up living with Zhang’s uncle, with whom she had two children.
When volunteers visited the family home, they found that the “aunt” was literate and appeared to be well-educated. As reported by the popular WeChat account Xinwenge (December 4 article), the volunteers gradually guided the woman into revealing her name, her family members’ names, and the university she attended.
After passing this information to the police, they confirmed her identity as ‘Ms. Bu’ (卜女士), a missing person from Jinzhong’s Yuxi, about a 2.5-hour drive from He Shun County.
On November 30, Ms. Bu finally returned home, where her 75-year-old father had prepared a welcome banner for her. She was accompanied by her “husband” and their two children, a 12-year-old son and an 8-year-old daughter.
Although Bu initially did not seem to recognize her father, Chinese media reported that she eventually smiled when he brought out her glasses, which she had worn as a student.
From Doctorate Pursuit to Disappearance
Ms. Bu was born in 1979. As a bright young woman, she graduated high school, attended college, and earned her master’s degree in engineering in 2008. Bu planned to pursue a doctorate afterward. However, due to not renewing her ID card in time, she failed to register for her doctoral exam.
This caused severe stress, and she subsequently developed schizophrenia. Her brother recalled that it was not the first time she had struggled with mental health issues—she had undergone various treatments at multiple hospitals for mental illness between 2008 and 2011.
At the time, Bu reportedly received medical treatment. While recovering at home after being discharged, the then 32-year-old Bu suddenly disappeared in May 2011. Although she was reported as a missing person, her family did not hear from her for over 13 years.
But this is where the questions arise. According to Ms. Zhang, her “aunt” had first walked into their home fifteen years ago, which is impossible since Bu did not go missing until May 2011.
Other aspects of Bu’s disappearance also raise questions. How did she end up in He Shun County? Why did the Zhang family not seek help all these years? And how was she able to have two children with her “husband” despite her fragile mental state?
Authorities Get Involved
While the story of Ms. Bu has received considerable online attention over the past few days, a joint investigation team was set up in Shanxi’s He Shun County to investigate the case. While investigations are still ongoing, new reports suggest that, after her disappearance in May 2011, Bu spent some time wandering alone in multiple nearby villages for over ten days in July and August of that year, exhibiting signs of mental illness.
She was later taken in by Mr. Zhang, a 45-year-old villager, who is now the target of an active criminal investigation. Zhang was aware of Ms. Bu’s mental condition yet engaged in relations with her, resulting in children.
Bu has now been hospitalized for treatment, and authorities are providing support to her children. It is unclear if they will remain with their father—custody arrangements will be determined based on the outcome of the case.
On social media, interest in the case is only growing. On Tuesday, a Xinhua post detailing the latest updates on the case received over 433,000 likes and 44,000 shares shortly after it was posted.
Despite the official updates, questions continue to surround the case of Ms. Bu, nicknamed ‘Hua Hua’ (花花). Given that her mental illness was apparent to so many, why did local authorities fail to intervene earlier? Particularly during the strict social controls and widespread testing of China’s ‘zero-Covid’ era, it is hard to believe that local authorities were unaware of her existence and her mental state. These criticisms and questions are flooding social media and growing louder as more details about her past emerge.
Ms. Zhang, the family niece, further revealed in a livestream that ‘Hua Hua,’ who was reportedly sleeping under a bridge before being taken in by the Zhang family, actually had more than two children. However, as of the time of writing, the fate of these additional children remains unclear.
This case also brings back memories of the Xuzhou mother of eight, another victim of mental illness who was nonetheless “married” to her “husband” and gave birth to eight children. Her story sparked a massive online outcry over how local authorities were complicit in enabling such abuses.
“From the Xuzhou chained woman to the missing Ms. Bu, these women’s tragedies cannot remain incomplete stories,” author Ma Ning (麻宁) wrote on Weibo. “Women are not commodities for marriage and reproduction (…) Let’s continue to follow this case, not just to seek justice for Ms. Bu but also to protect ourselves.”
See more about this story in our follow-up article here.
By Manya Koetse, with contributions by Miranda Barnes
(follow on X, LinkedIn, or Instagram)
Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.
©2024 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.
Subscribe
Weibo Watch: A New Chapter
Our Picks: Top 10 Chinese Buzzwords and Phrases of 2024 Explained
Weibo Watch: Christmas in China Is Everywhere and Nowhere
12-Year-Old Girl from Shandong Gets Infected with HPV: Viral Case Exposes Failures in Protecting Minors
Explaining the Bu Xiaohua Case: How One Woman’s Disappearance Captured Nationwide Attention in China
The Price of Writing Smut: Inside China’s Crackdown on Erotic Fiction
The Hashtagification of Chinese Propaganda
Controversial Wanghong Livestreamers Are Becoming a Weibo Staple in China
Weibo Watch: “Comrade Trump Returns to the Palace”
The ‘Cycling to Kaifeng’ Trend: How It Started, How It’s Going
Hu Xijin’s Comeback to Weibo
The Viral Bao’an: How a Xiaoxitian Security Guard Became Famous Over a Pay Raise
Our Picks: Top 10 Chinese Buzzwords and Phrases of 2024 Explained
Chiung Yao’s Suicide Farewell Letter: An English Translation
Why Chinese Hit Movie “Her Story” is ‘Good Stuff’: Stirring Controversy and Celebrating Female Perspectives
Get in touch
Would you like to become a contributor, or do you have any tips or suggestions? Get in touch here!
Popular Reads
-
China Insight8 months ago
The Tragic Story of “Fat Cat”: How a Chinese Gamer’s Suicide Went Viral
-
China Music10 months ago
The Chinese Viral TikTok Song Explained (No, It’s Not About Samsung)
-
China Insight10 months ago
The ‘Two Sessions’ Suggestions: Six Proposals Raising Online Discussions
-
China Digital7 months ago
China’s 2024 Gaokao Triggers Online Discussions on AI