Drum Tower

Necoclí is a tiny town on Colombia’s Caribbean coast. Beach bars blast party music and sell brightly-coloured cocktails. But Necoclí is not just a tourist destination. It is also a stopping point for migrants heading to the United States.The fastest-growing group among them are Chinese. They are on a journey they call zouxian, or walking the line. Disillusioned with the Chinese dream, they have decided to chase the American version. But first they face a journey that is fraught with peril.  Necoclí is the place migrants stock up on supplies and cash, before putting their trust in smugglers who will guide them across the Darién Gap, a treacherous stretch of jungle separating Colombia and Panama.In the first episode of this four-part series, Alice Su, The Economist’s senior China correspondent, travels to Necoclí to meet Chinese migrants on their zouxian journey, and asks what drove them to leave China and take such risks.Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.

Michael Kovrig spent his first six months at the Dahongmen detention centre in solitary confinement. Inside his padded, windowless cell, the lights were never turned off. They would stay on for the next three years.The former Canadian diplomat quickly realised that survival demanded a strict physical and mental regime. He would need it. 1,019 days passed before the political game that put Mr Kovrig in Dahongmen was resolved. In the second episode of a two-part series, David Rennie, The Economist’s geopolitics editor, speaks with Mr Kovrig about how he survived inside a machine designed to crush the human spirit.Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.

The day Michael Kovrig disappeared into China’s security machine began unremarkably. The former Canadian diplomat was in Beijing to pack up house; he wrote talking points for a speech, then grabbed a late dinner with his partner. But when the couple arrived back at his apartment, men in black were waiting for them. Mr Kovrig was pushed into a waiting SUV. Handcuffed and blindfolded, he was driven to a detention centre in southern Beijing that would be his home for the next 1,019 days. September 24th 2024 is the third anniversary of Mr Kovrig’s release. And now he is ready to talk publicly about his ordeal. In the first episode of a two-part series, David Rennie, The Economist’s geopolitics editor, speaks with Mr Kovrig about the night he was seized, and how his detention was part of a far bigger geopolitical game.   Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.

In 1971 Jaime “Jimi” FlorCruz, a student leader from the Philippines, arrived in Beijing, eager to explore Mao’s China. But when President Ferdinand Marcos announced a crackdown on leftists, Mr FlorCruz found himself stranded. What began as a three-week visit turned into five decades of witnessing China’s transformation.During his time in China, Mr FlorCruz became a well-known journalist, working as the Beijing bureau chief for Time magazine and CNN. In 2022, he was appointed the Philippines’ ambassador to China by President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., the son of the man whose regime had made it impossible for him to return in the 1970s.David Rennie, The Economist’s geopolitics editor, sits down with Jaime FlorCruz and asks: how close can any foreigner get to understanding China? And how have the transformations in Chinese politics changed his relationship with the country?Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.

Live-streaming is big business in China, with millions of broadcasts happening daily, featuring everything from shopping deals to dating advice. This digital gold rush has lifted many out of poverty and made others wealthy, but it comes with risks. In a country where censorship is pervasive, streamers must toe the line on socialist values—or face being shut down.Jiehao Chen, The Economist’s China researcher and “Drum Tower” producer, hosts this episode with Ted Plafker, our China correspondent in Beijing. Together they ask: what’s life like inside this dynamic but precarious world, and what does the increasing censorship of live-streamers for flaunting wealth say about China today?Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.

Just a generation ago, divorce in China was seen by many as shameful. But times have changed—divorce rates are soaring and what was once taboo is now openly discussed. This shift has brought a wave of older singles back into China’s marriage market. David Rennie, The Economist’s Beijing bureau chief, and Alice Su, our senior China correspondent, ask: what does the remarriage market reveal about modern China, and what hopes and fears drive these older singles as they seek new partnerships?Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.

In 2022, a China Eastern Boeing 737 hit the ground in a near-vertical nosedive, killing 132 people. Two years later, there has been no official explanation for the tragedy, and the crash site in Guangxi remains unmarked. It is as if the disaster has been hidden in a memory hole.David Rennie, The Economist’s Beijing bureau chief, and Alice Su, our senior China correspondent, ask: how does Xi Jinping’s China make even large events vanish from public discourse?Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.

Lured in by the promise of a cheap vacation packed with cultural activities, some young Taiwanese are heading to China for state-sponsored summer camps. But beyond the sightseeing and entertainment lies a more covert aim: to awaken Taiwanese youths’ connection to the “motherland”.Alice Su, The Economist’s senior China correspondent and David Rennie, our Beijing bureau chief explore what happens inside these cross-strait youth camps and ask: do they make young Taiwanese feel more Chinese?Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.

Since taking power in 2012, Xi Jinping has been working to restore the Chinese Communist Party’s grassroots influence and to grow its presence in everyday life. In Inner Mongolia, he has revived a Mao-era propaganda tool: Ulan Muqir troupes. Founded in 1957, their name means “Red Bud” in Mongolian, and early teams would carry news and party ideology across the region, through song and dance.David Rennie, The Economist’s Beijing bureau chief, and Alice Su, our senior China correspondent, examine the recent revival of these troupes and ask: why is Xi Jinping reintroducing Mao-era propaganda methods in Inner Mongolia—and are they effective?Transcripts of our podcasts are available via economist.com/podcasts.Listen to what matters most, from global politics and business to science and technology—subscribe to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account.