22 The Sunday Times November 14, 2021
WORLD NEWS
tions across 21 regions — the broadest
flare-up since the virus fifrst emerged in
Wuha although low by international stan-
dards for a country of 1.4 billion.
The stakes are highest in Beijing,
where 45 cases have been detected in the
current wave – the highest since June last
year. Companies have been told to cancel
conferences, residential compounds
have been locked down and a major
shopping mall closed after infections.
In Shanghai earlier this month, more
than 30,000 visitors to Disneyland were
held inside the theme park and forced to
wait long into the night for tests when a
guest tested positive for Covid two days
after their visit.
National health officials said last week
that the country would maintain strin-
gent curbs and border controls until at
least spring, despite a double vaccination
rate of about 70 per cent.
So why has Beijing clung to this strat-
egy, even as other adherents to “fortress”
tactics such as Australia, Singapore and
several Asian states have tentatively
eased restrictions and adopted a “living
with Covid” approach?
Next year’s calendar offers two signifi-
cant reasons. First, Beijing will host the
Winter Olympics in February and the
administration is determined that no bad
news or distraction will spoil its party.
The country’s leaders are already
It’s the people’s war on Covid, but
President Xi is the biggest winner
As President Xi Jinping was elevated to
the pantheon of Chinese communist
immortals in Beijing last week, citizens at
the outer fringes of his realm were count-
ing the cost of his determination to crush
the pandemic.
Alone on the world stage and against
the advice of even China’s own leading
virus experts, his regime is clinging to a
hardline “zero Covid” strategy, deploy-
ing severe crackdowns, mass testing and
sealed borders in an attempt to eradicate
the coronavirus while furthering its polit-
ical goals.
The narrative that Xi, 68, has led the
country to victory in a “people’s war”
against the pandemic featured promi-
nently in the hagiographic coverage of his
achievements by state media during a
party conclave over recent days.
But 2,000 miles away from the capital,
there was no triumphalism in the south-
western border city of Ruili. Since the lift-
ing of the Wuhan lockdown 19 months
ago, nowhere has suffered more than the
jade trading hub as infections swept
across the frontier from neighbouring
Myanmar.
One couple, food stall vendors identi-
fied only as Mr and Mrs Lu, thought they
had survived the worst a few months ago.
Then they were stranded at a farmers’
market, two miles from home, by a snap
lockdown in March, and spent 40 days
sleeping on the floor of a friend’s shop.
Lu’s 94-year-old mother fell badly ill with
a lung infection while they were trapped,
and died two months later.
Late last month they were ordered out
of their home because of nearby Covid
infections and moved into quarantine,
sleeping on wooden bunks in a noisy
metal shack.
The cycle of lockdowns and closures
has left the family — and many others in
Ruili — in desperate economic straits,
with no income and rapidly depleting
savings. Many have simply abandoned
the former boom town in the hope of
making a living elsewhere.
“No one knows what we’ve seen, what
we’ve heard, what we’ve experienced,
and no one can understand how it feels
for a native Ruili resident to see people
disappearing from the streets one after
another,” said one jade merchant.
A trader said that his toddler son, not
yet two, has been tested more than 70
times. A 14-month girl automatically
opens her mouth when she sees anyone
in protective gear after being tested doz-
ens of times.
Across China, officials are fighting to
suppress more than 1,000 active infec-
seething over calls for an international
boycott to protest against their actions in
Xinjiang, Tibet and Hong Kong. They
intend the event to showcase the suprem-
acy of the Chinese model for pandemic
containment. Any major new outbreak
would not only undermine the claim to
have vanquished the virus but would also
fuel scepticism about the efficacy of the
Chinese-made vaccines on which Beijing
has solely relied.
Another important date looms later in
the year: the 20th party congress. At that
gathering, Xi seems certain to tighten his
grip on power with a third term in office —
and the option of indefinite rule — after
last week’s party plenum, a four-day
meeting of the Communist Party central
committee. It passed a rare “historical
resolution” acclaiming Xi’s role in the
“rejuvenation” of the Chinese nation.
The only earlier resolutions were passed
under Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping,
who dominated the country for decades.
Some analysts believe that Covid
restrictions will not be substantially
relaxed before that set-piece event,
which is expected to be held in October
or November.
“There’s no hint of easing up on
restrictions,” said Huang Yanzhong, a
Chinese public health expert at the Coun-
cil on Foreign Relations. “One of the shin-
ing bright spots of Beijing’s narrative for
the Olympics and the party congress, as
during this plenum, is the handling of the
pandemic. They are so invested in it that
it is difficult to see how they can back
away any time soon.”
Gauging public opinion in a dictator-
ship is an inexact pursuit but the “Covid
zero” policy, amplified by relentless gov-
ernment messaging about the dangers of
the virus, seems to be popular. Indeed,
when Ruili’s long-suffering residents
lamented their plight, they were
drowned out on social media by support-
ers of the crackdown.
It is a striking turnaround. Discontent
flared online early last year, reaching a
peak following the death from the virus
of a whistleblower medic in Wuhan.
There was speculation then that Xi was
facing a moment comparable to the 1986
Chernobyl nuclear disaster that precipi-
tated the collapse of the Soviet Union.
Instead he weathered the squall and
held course.
“From Beijing’s perspective, China is
still reaping the benefits of its zero toler-
ance approach,” Huang said.
“They look at countries as different as
Singapore and the UK — which have seen
cases rise after moving away from a con-
tainment approach — and they say: ‘See,
we’re in control.’”
The Chinese leader is tightening his grip on power with a hardline zero-Covid policy and a never-ending cycle of lockdowns
Philip Sherwell Asia Correspondent
Masked troops in Beijing, where cases are at their highest since June last year
KEVIN FRAYER/GETTY IMAGES
When Dean Gallagher first
moved to Ibiza 15 years ago,
he was looking forward to a
life of good vibes in the sun.
He did not expect to become
a snake catcher.
Yet after finding the island
was being overrun by
serpents accidentally brought
over inside ornamental trees,
the 43-year-old British-
Australian joined an intensive
effort to eradicate the plague
from the island.
This year he has caught
and killed 400 snakes, some
of them nearly 6ft long.
“They’re an invasive
species,” he said last week,
lifting a small ladder snake
out of a container. A bruise
on his bicep showed where
Ibizans take up clubs against ‘plague’ of snakes killing off their beloved lizard
another snake had bitten him
as he caught it the day before.
“If you don’t euthanise the
snakes, then we’re talking
about thousands of endemic
lizards that will never be
replaced.”
He and other volunteers
are backing a government
effort to eradicate snakes
from the island in the hope of
saving the beloved Ibiza wall
lizard, the island’s only
endemic vertebrate, from
extinction.
If they succeed, the cull
will serve another purpose
too: protecting tourists, the
lifeblood of the islands, from
heart-stopping encounters.
Before the pandemic, up to
three million people visited
Ibiza each year — mostly in
the spring and summer, when
snakes are at their most
active. Snakes have caused
panic by appearing inside
holiday rentals and slithering
across the sand in crowded
sunbathing spots.
“You’ve never seen anyone
evacuate a beach so quickly,”
said Gallagher, who has been
offered gifts from those he
has rescued — including a live
chicken from one grateful
resident.
Once he was called to the
aid of a British family who
had found a snake in their
holiday home. Amid the
screaming and panic,
someone had managed to
kill it with a rolled-up
newspaper.
So far the
volunteers
have killed
between 12,000 and 16,000
snakes in the past six years —
most of them non-venomous
horseshoe whip snakes. Many
more snakes are still on the
loose, and the number is
growing each year. Each
female horseshoe whip snake
lays up to ten eggs a year and
can eat more than 500 lizards
in their lifetime.
“It’s really serious,” said
Elba Montes, a biologist who
wrote her doctoral thesis on
the snakes and their impact
on the lizard population. “By
2030, if nothing changes, [the
lizard] will be extinct from
the main island
of Ibiza.”
About
20 years
ago,
she said, snakes were brought
onto the island for the first
time, hidden inside holes in
decorative plants — many of
them ancient olive trees —
brought from the mainland
by restaurateurs, hoteliers
and villa owners wanting to
spruce up their properties.
Now the snakes have
spread over almost all of the
island — driving out or killing
much the lizard population.
On one islet, the lizards are
already gone.
Montes and the volunteers
say it is a race against time to
stop the snakes before the
lizard — a symbol of the
islands, appearing on
everything from souvenir
T-shirts to tourism campaigns
— disappears for ever.
“We have people who’ve
seen snakes eat birds in the
trees out of their nests right in
front of them on their
porches in their country
homes,” said Timotheus
Freytag, 50, an expat who has
been working to eradicate
snakes on the island for years
— breeding mice for bait and
arranging for hundreds of
traps to be built and
distributed around Ibiza.
“We have snakes on third-
floor apartment buildings,
they crawl up the
bougainvillea vines. Snakes
everywhere, you know. A lot
of snakes.”
The grassroots efforts are
supplementing the work of
the Balearic government,
which has budgeted
thousands of euros to
eradicate the snakes in recent
years.This year alone, more
than 1,100 snakes have been
caught by the government’s
Consortium for the Recovery
of Wildlife in Ibiza.
Yet volunteers say it isn’t
enough — and that if measures
are not taken to quarantine
imported trees, more
dangerous snakes could be
inadvertently introduced.
Gallagher, who volunteers
for a Friends of the Earth
programme to remove snakes
from the island, said: “If [the
horseshoe whip snakes] can get
here from the mainland,
there’s nothing to say a viper
couldn’t get here as well.”
Many more snakes will have
to die in the name of saving the
lizards, he added: “It breaks my
heart because I really like
snakes.” @LouiseElisabet
Louise Callaghan Ibiza
Britney Spears supporters celebrate in Los Angeles after a judge ended the conservatorship that has overseen her
personal affairs and $60 million estate for almost 14 years. The singer, 39, described it as the “best day ever”. Spears
spoke publicly about the controversial legal arrangement for the first time in court in June, condemning her father
and others who have been in control of her life since she was said to have suffered mental health issues in 2008
My deathbed conversation with BRITNEY’S BACK
the leader who killed apartheid
him wildly, chanting: “NP!
NP!” for the National Party,
the same party that had
oppressed them for more
than 40 years. Two days later
he got 20.6 per cent of the
vote against more than 60
per cent for Mandela’s ANC.
De Klerk was an excellent
public speaker, second in
demand only to Mandela in
the months after the election.
In June 1994 we invited him
to speak at a Sunday Times
event in London, where the
demand for tickets was so
high that we had to take the
Albert Hall. When Andrew
Neil, then the editor,
introduced him, the whole
audience, including Margaret
Thatcher, stood to applaud.
I reminded him of that
occasion two weeks ago
when I went to see him for
the last time at his house in
Cape Town. “That was one of
the best days of my life,” he
said, almost choking. He was
weak and frail but he wanted
to talk, mostly about the way
he would be perceived after
his death. “I’m going down,”
he said calmly. “But Elita [his
wife] and I try to do
something every day.”
The previous day he had
recorded his last message to
the world, trying to kill once
and for all the accusation that
he had continued to justify
apartheid long after he
abolished it.
“It is true that in my
younger years I defended
separate development,” he
said. In later years he had
tried to apologise but not
everyone believed he meant
it. Now he wanted to make it
clear and unequivocal.
“I, without qualification,
apologise for the pain and the
hurt and the indignity and
the damage that apartheid
has done to black, brown and
Indians in South Africa.”
That’s not a bad note to go
out on.
Ivan Fallon is a former deputy
editor of The Sunday Times
CHRIS PIZZELLO/AP
‘No!’ And I said: why ‘no’?
And he said, ‘We need
another week to prepare.’
“I told him, ‘Mr Mandela,
you have been in jail long
enough. You and I will
negotiate about many things
in future but not about the
date of your release.’”
The next day, February 11,
1990, Mandela, hand in hand
with his soon-to-be-estranged
wife, Winnie, walked out of
the prison gates, watched on
TV by half the world.
That was the third big
interview I did with de Klerk.
The first was in May 1994 in
the imposing British-built
government buildings in
Pretoria. Although he was in
his last week as president, he
was in a confident mood,
saying that he had a good
chance of winning the
coming election with the
support of the black
population.
When I expressed
scepticism at this unlikely
outcome, he invited me to
join him at a political rally in
a football stadium in Soweto
the next day. It was the first
time I had heard him speak in
public, and the
transformation from the
quiet, formal man I had met
the previous day into a
passionate, powerful public
speaker astonished me. So
did the reaction of his largely
black audience, who cheered
what made me embark on a
course of fundamental
transformation. Did I
experience some form of
Damascene conversion? The
answer is ‘No’. It was a slow,
gradual and often painful
process.”
In real life he never would
have used the “Madiba” title,
Mandela’s tribal name used
only by friends. Relations
between the two, although
they were jointly awarded the
Nobel peace prize, were at
best guarded and at worst
downright hostile. De Klerk
ruefully recalled the occasion
in 1991 when he accused
Mandela of condoning a
series of bloody attacks on
whites across the country.
“Mandela launched a
vitriolic attack on me, saying
I was without moral
standards and was not fit to
be the head of government
and represented a regime
which did not have
legitimacy,” said de Klerk.
“All I could do was roll with
the punches. We were always
going to have serious
differences.”
He also recalled the day,
soon after his parliamentary
address, when he visited
Mandela in Victor Verster
prison, where he was living in
a warder’s bungalow. “I told
him that the decision had
been taken to release him the
next day, and he said to me,
In an interview to mark the
25th anniversary of the end
of white power in South
Africa, I asked FW de Klerk
when he had had a change of
heart about apartheid and its
inevitable — and probably
bloody — end. It happened,
he said, one night in the mid-
1980s when he was at one of
President PW Botha’s
bosberaads, or bush
conferences. “I came to the
conclusion that apartheid
was morally wrong,” he said,
“and we couldn’t reform or
improve it. We had to
abandon the whole concept.”
He was a senior minister in
the Botha government at the
time, born into the apartheid
culture, which he actively
supported until midlife. It
would be a further five years
before, having shouldered
aside the ill Botha, he was
able to make the huge leap he
had been planning for some
time. That came on February
2, 1990, when, in his first
presidential address to
parliament, he announced
the release of all political
prisoners, including Nelson
Mandela, the unbanning of
the African National Congress
(ANC) and — more
importantly in his view — the
South African Communist
Party, and abolished more
than 40 years of apartheid
restrictions. Crucially, he
committed the government
to free and fair elections.
As historians generally
acknowledge, it was Frederik
Willem de Klerk who ended
apartheid that day — not
Mandela. He was in jail.
In later years de Klerk got
into the habit of writing
deeply personal letters to the
long-dead Mandela,
reflecting on his conversion
from white supremacist to
reformist president.
He showed me one of
them: “Dear Madiba,” he
wrote, “I am often asked
Ivan Fallon Cape Town
WALTER DHLADHLA/AFP/GETTY IMAGES
President Nelson
Mandela holds
hands with
deputy president
FW de Klerk at
South Africa’s
Freedom Day
celebration held
in Pretoria on
April 27, 1996, to
mark the second
anniversary of
all-race
elections, which
ended whites-
only rule