In One Child Nation (2019), Nanfu Wang, a first-time mother and
documentarian now living in the US, commits herself to the arduous job of
scrutinizing various aspects of collective trauma inflicted upon generations of
Chinese people, in the name of an allegedly necessary ‘social experiment’. The one-child policy, first presented in 1979, included into the Chinese constitution in
1982, and staunchly enforced until it was terminated in 2015, is one among the
many examples of an infamous communist regime diktat, where deified economic
plans are churned out by dumping the human lives into a statistical bucket. As
this controversial law is now replaced by the considerably ‘generous’ Two-Child
Policy, the state propaganda machine has kicked off campaigns to erase the
memories of horrifying past in a truly Orwellian fashion. Nevertheless, Nanfu
Wang & Jialing Zhang’s multi-pronged investigation of one-child policy puts
a stop to this sweep-it-under-the-rug approach and valiantly displays all the
micro and macro level adverse impacts of the policy.
The one-child policy was strictly imposed all across China
with few exceptions. In fact, Nanfu Wang came from a two-child household, which
was possible in rural communities although it also had set of restrictions
(demanding a five-year gap between children). The preference of boy child over
girl is a common yet ineradicable cultural phenomenon across the world, but the
policy has added brought upon sinister dimensions to it. Wang chillingly
confesses that her parents were ready to get rid of her younger brother, if he
had been born a girl. In one of the interviews with her uncle, Wang captures
him grievously admitting the reasons for giving up a daughter. Starting with
family members and cautious community elders, Wang gradually deepens her
inquiry by talking with retired family planning officials, who provide the
first-hand account of forced sterilizations (women were brought to medical
centres hog-tied like a pig) and late-stage abortions.
A guilt-ridden mid-wife who says she conducted between
50,000 and 60,000 involuntary abortions now treats
couples suffering from infertility. She invites Wang into her home and shows
roomful of banners (affixed with infant’s photo) that expresses gratitude to
the mid-wife from those benefited. Another old family planning official
proudly exhibits the awards she gleaned from the authorities. Unlike the
redemption-seeking mid-wife, this health worker believes that despite its harsh
and upsetting nature, the policy was absolutely necessary and that she would do
it again, if given a choice. She speaks like the firmly indoctrinated
individual and never uses the typical refrain of “we had no choice”. In the earlier, episodic investigations, Wang and Zhang
also focus on how the authorities efficiently applied different forms of
propaganda to indoctrinate people: from billboards, folk music performances
to playing cards and calendars.
It is only when Wang meets an artist (named Wang Peng), who
painted Mao’s little red books with pictures of fetuses, the unimaginable ugly layers
of the policy begins to unravel. More than the upsetting testimonies of health
workers performing late-stage abortions, it is the artists’ devastating photos
of ‘yellow bags’ (bags containing fetus or abandoned babies died of exposure)
which sharply reveals the atrocities of the policy. It is definitely ironical
that the ones who offer glimmer of hope for the abandoned babies are human
traffickers (aka ‘match-makers’). Not only the black market for babies is
linked to the one-child policy, but such black markets have played a dominant
role in China’s international adoption scheme (initiated in 1992). One of the
former child traffickers, now working as a security guard after a stint in
prison, describes how he started rescuing babies out of compassion, which later
became a lucrative family business. Wang’s researching on trafficking and
adoption policies disentangles a much more intricate web of fraud and
deception, sponsored by the state.
Wang speaks to an American couple – Brian and Long Lan Stuy
-- the adopted parents of three Chinese daughters, who established Research China to provide the service of helping adoptees to track down the origins of
the alleged orphans. Eventually, Wang follows the investigations of an exiled
Chinese reporter, updating his story on separated twin girls, one growing up in
rural China while the other in US. The effectiveness of One Child Nation lies
in the manner it connects all the dots, intertwining the personal, political,
and social dimensions of the story. Wang starts her narrative by evoking a
deeply personal context (having recently given birth to her first child), but
gradually reaches out to discuss the wider social impacts of the policy. The
personal context (Wang’s voice-overs keeps alive a conversational tone)
compliments the investigative reporting part and vice-versa. Despite going
through trove of archived materials and information, the directors take time to
look at the psychological trauma of a populace, indoctrinated by the
propaganda. Most importantly, the individuals who find the state policy
adequate enough are never demonized; all have served the agenda of a faceless
state that trains humans to be at odds with their own humanity.
Overall, One Child Nation (88 minutes) offers a
comprehensive account of one of the darkest, heavily obscured chapters in
China’s modern history. It also works as a seamless and haunting portrait of
collective trauma and guilt.
Trailer