Investigative journalism is indeed undergoing a crisis in China: not in the sense that it is getting weak, but in the sense that it is getting stronger – so strong that some people feel disastrously frightened. And the consequence of this fear is to use the power that is still available to them to suppress those who want to investigate their doggy doings. The stronger the investigative journalism, the more fear generated; the more fear generated, the more suppressive techniques employed. The manifestation of such high suppression is the closure of some outspoken media outlets.

Caijing Magazine which was taken over by the authorities last month is such an example. Being ‘taken over’ does not technically mean that the publication was closed; but it definitely means that the old editorial guideline be abandoned, the old editorial committee dismissed, and the old journalist team unemployed. It equates announcing the death of the old Caijing. For those who don’t know much about Caijing, it would be illuminating to read a report that appeared on the New Yorker earlier this year. Caijing was one of most prestigious and toughest investigative-style publications in China; and its editor Ms Hu Shuli has regularly been cited as a legendary woman in China for her accomplishment in investigative journalism – “the most dangerous women in China”, it was said. Now, however, with the authorities taking over the magazine, Hu Shuli has resigned and the entire team has also left. There will be no Caijing anymore – not the Caijing that made so many corrupt politicians and dishonest merchants quiver, and which comforted so many suffering souls. The taking over of Caijing is obviously a matter of fear. It is dead because it has been powerful – the same logic underlying the closure of 21st Century Herald in 2003 and Freezing Point in 2006.