Liu Xiabo And A Quiet Revolution Of Whispers In China

The Nobel Committee has made some bizarre decisions in the past when awarding its peace prize. The most eggregious example was the award given to mass-murderer and terrorist Yasser Arafat for "efforts to create peace in the Middle East", a few years before he ordered the launch of one of the most infamous terror campaigns in modern history. Last year's decision, for US President Barack Obama, was not so much eggregious as silly; even the winner himself humbly stated that the prize was not so much about what he had accomplished in his short months in office, but was essentially aspirational.

But it's hard to make the case that the Nobel Committee screwed up this time. In giving the award to Chinese democracy activist Liu Xiaobo, they've stood by an overwhelming precedent of recognizing champions of human rights and freedom, which are so integrally connected with the goal of peace.

That's why the Chinese government's tyrannical moves - jailing Xiaobo, keeping his wife under house arrest, detaining supporters and blocking websites that have the courage to so much as mention Xiaobo's name - are so transparently evil. China's characterization of Xiabo as a "common criminal", for the crimes of suggesting that his country adopt the rule of law, operate democratically and allow for free expression, essentially defames the vast majority of China's citizens (not to mention the rest of the people on the planet) who aspire to these things.

The despots who rule China are right to be afraid of Xiabo. He is not a criminal, warlord or terrorist. Yet in their clumsy response to what Xiabo represents, they are falling into a trap often used by terrorists, to goad the government into overreacting and provoking the population into siding with the "enemy of the state". There is not question that the government's overreaction has made Xiabo a household name around the world and yes, even in China, where his name must be spoken in whispers.

When a democratic transformation comes to China, it may be this quiet revolution of whispers that spawns louder voices and forces the country to change direction.

Jonathon Narvey is the Editor of The Propagandist