In Washington’s bustling Dupont Circle, Yu Miao beams as he surveys his newly reopened bookstore, JF Books, brimming with 10,000 titles among bamboo shelves. This location is a significant shift from his previous establishment in Shanghai, which was shut down by the Chinese government six years prior.
“Here, I don’t feel pressured by the authorities,” stated Yu, the sole Chinese bookseller in Washington. “I want to live free from fear.”
Independent bookstores in China are increasingly becoming a frontline in the struggle against government oppression and restrictions on free speech. Numerous reports have highlighted the closure or targeted crackdowns on at least a dozen bookstores across the nation within recent months, signaling a tightening grip on press liberties. Additionally, one owner has been taken into custody for over four months.
The crackdown is also affecting the broader publishing scene in China. While bookstores are ubiquitous, many are state-run, and independent establishments face a complex web of regulations that have recently intensified. Owners report more stringent monitoring, with printing facilities and street vendors also subjected to heightened scrutiny from the National Office Against Pornography and Illegal Publication.
When inquiries were made, the office declined to comment, and China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs claimed ignorance regarding the bookstore closures.
Yu is not alone in relocating his business. In recent years, independent Chinese bookstores have emerged in various countries, including Japan, France, and several locations in the United States, fueled by the dual pressures of stringent regulations in China and growing Chinese expatriate communities abroad.
The skepticism of Chinese authorities extends beyond the content of the books. Many of these bookstores serve as cultural hubs where critical discussions thrive, often straying into political territory that the government finds uncomfortable.
One such bookstore owner, Yuan Di, known as Yanyou, was arrested in June. He is the founder of the Jiazazhi bookstores in Shanghai and Ningbo. According to Zhou Youlieguo, who was forced to shut down his own bookstore in Shanghai last month, Yuan’s detention has been confirmed by other sources who chose to remain anonymous due to safety concerns, though the specific charges remain unclear.
An official from the Ningbo Bureau of Culture, Radio Television, and Tourism, which oversees bookstores, refrained from commenting, citing an ongoing investigation. Attempts to reach the Ningbo police for insights were unavailing.
Michael Berry, the director of UCLA’s Center for Chinese Studies, noted that a sluggish economy may prompt the government to clamp down further on freedoms. He remarked, “In these times, the government may seek to closely regulate discourse, controlling what people read in an effort to stifle potential dissent.”
According to Berry, bookstore proprietors face significant challenges from both political repression and the trend among younger generations favoring digital media over physical books.
Wang Yingxing’s bookstore in Ningbo, which specialized in used books for nearly two decades, was forced to close in August. Local officials claimed he lacked the necessary publication business license, despite him not being eligible for one as a second-hand seller.
The space where Fatty Wang’s Bookstore once thrived now bears faded outlines of its sign. Its window is marked by the spray-painted words: “Temporarily closed.”
“I’m promoting culture, and I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?” Wang expressed, as he bundled together books with brown wrapping and nylon string. “Then why can’t they just leave me alone?”
As he spoke, several individuals loaded boxes of books into a van, which were to be distributed to café and bar owners who intended to create small libraries for their customers. Wang indicated that some would go to a warehouse in Anhui, while others were bound for a recycling facility for destruction.
The crackdown isn’t confined to bookstores; authorities are also targeting printing shops, internet cafés, gaming facilities, and street vendors, with stringent inspections nationwide.
In Shanghai, officials inspected printing establishments and bookstores for “printing, copying or selling illegal publications,” as outlined in an official government document. This indicates that the government is not only prohibiting the sale of specific books but also tracing their production. Authorities discovered that some printing businesses failed to comply with registration requirements for printed content, swiftly demanding rectifications.
In Shaoyang, a southern Chinese city, authorities announced a campaign against harmful publications, adhering to legal guidelines.
The Communist Party wields considerable authority over the availability of books. Any publication lacking a China Standard Book Number is deemed illegal, including self-published works and books that enter the country without appropriate licenses. Even after publication, books can face bans if later restrictions intensify or due to author statements deemed politically sensitive.
Nevertheless, the influx of new bookstores persists amid the crackdown. Although updated statistics are not available, a 2020 survey by Bookdao revealed that more bookstores opened than closed in China, with the ratio being over two to one.
Liu Suli, who has operated All Sages Books in Beijing for over thirty years, noted the persistence of idealism within the industry. “Everyone who reads aspires to have their own bookstore,” he stated, acknowledging the many hurdles they face.
For many aspiring bookstore owners, these dreams are now materializing outside of China. Yu and fellow booksellers internationally curate their collections with titles from Hong Kong, Taiwan, and mainland China, as well as locally published works.
Zhang Jieping, who runs Nowhere, a bookstore in Taiwan and Thailand, mentioned a rising demand for books among migrants fleeing China since the COVID-19 pandemic. “They seek not only to master the local languages but to establish cultural autonomy,” Zhang noted. “They desire community gathering spaces — not solely bookstores, but also galleries or restaurants.”
Li Yijia, a 22-year-old student who relocated from Beijing to Washington in August, found a sense of belonging in JF Books on a Sunday morning, surrounded by titles in both Chinese and English. She envisioned the bookstore as “another world encapsulated in a bubble” that fosters her critical thinking and alleviates her homesickness, much like a Chinese restaurant would.
The closures of bookstores often push their owners down various paths. Some have faced imprisonment, while others seek new employment to support their families. For many, the quest for freedom from censorship becomes a reality.
Since shutting his Shanghai store, Zhou has relocated to Los Angeles but remains unsure of his next steps. He recounted the challenges faced while running his fully licensed independent bookstore, which specialized in art books and self-published works, including hefty fines and repeated interrogations over four years. Colleagues have been jailed for distributing “illegal publications,” and pressure from local authorities led most artists he collaborated with to withdraw their work.
Feeling overwhelmed from continued harassment, Zhou described his bookstore experience as akin to “smuggling drugs instead of selling books.” He lamented the loss of his establishment, which he regarded as an act of “rebellion and resistance.”